Until recently, we thought the curse worked well. Since the night we cast our spell, the few children that did manage to come to Mandisa High appeared ashen, tired, harassed and timid. They complained of a ghost that came at night, creating havoc and chaos.  

Cheater Marcus and the gang found themselves out of the frying pan and into the fire. It was delightful to witness. It entertained us for three full days until the fourth day, that’s when the fires began. 

Thick plumes of smoke hovered balefully dark over the settlement. Huge shack fires burned and raged. Its flames were red, high and angry. Thankfully, there were no casualties, but the devastated residents were completely bewildered at how such a fire could have started. 

On the fifth night, when a child sustained a severe burn injury, we became concerned. There was a dreadful suspicion running between the four of us. That night we decided to investigate. 

Walking into Jabulani Skies was equivalent to walking into a war zone. The heat of misery and the stench of disaster layered the air like a tight bedsheet. The ground was hard, dry, hot and black, with people’s lives scorched into dust. It was horrendous. 

Upon reaching the spot we planted Isipoki, it was vacant. There were sharp indentations on the dry earth leading to the settlement. We followed it slowly at first, then more quickly as urgency took over. The marks abruptly stopped at a tin and wooden shack. There we found our suspicion. Its small straw hand held a matchbox as it stood beside a burning shack. 

We stood there flabbergasted, horrified. Were we responsible for this? Was this the form our hatred took? We didn’t want this! We did not call for this! But reality stood in front of us, brutal and ugly. In our greed for revenge, we had burned the lives of so many innocent people. 

Isipoki was not a monster. We were. 

I dry heaved into the ground as Greta cried softly. Archie was silent, his fist clenched.

“Stop it!” David bellowed. 

The scarecrow hardly registered our presence. 

“I said stop it.” David charged toward Isipoki, fury in every step. Just as he reached the scarecrow, it turned around, grabbed David around the waist and flung him into the fire. 

“NO!” I cried, pushing against Archie, who held me back. 

“We have to save David,” I pleaded. But even I could see that the flames were too high and ferocious. 

“We have to go,” Archie cried into my hair. “We can’t stop it like this!” 

We ran. Out of fear and heartbreak, we ran, leaving our friend behind. 

The wind followed, whispering in David’s playful voice, “Bind it.”