In bed that night, Thabiso tossed and turned. His boss, Mr Mervin, wanted to see him first thing in the morning and didn’t give any indication what this was all about. As he tried to get more comfortable, Thabiso heard an agonising scream.

He shot up, sitting upright, with his eyes wide open. The scream came again in the dead of night.

“Yooh! You have to help me!” the voice pleaded.

Thabiso clutched his duvet and pulled it up towards his mouth, as if trying to prevent himself from screaming in fear.

“They think I killed her,” the voice quivered. “They think I-I murdered my wife.”

The statement sent a cold chill down Thabiso’s spine and covered his arms in goosebumps.

“L-leave me a-alone,” Thabiso stammered.

An eerie silence filled the room. Thabiso didn’t move for several minutes. Then, just as he thought he had composed himself enough to slide back under the duvet, he heard another piercing scream. This time it was the voice of a woman.

Thabiso jumped out of bed and ran to his walk-in cupboard. He closed the door and rocked back and forth, holding his knees close to his chest.

“What’s happening to me?” he whispered, as a tear rolled down his cheek.

The next morning a ray of sunlight poured through the crack in the cupboard door. Thabiso had survived the night. He was encouraged to leave the safety of his temporary sanctuary. He slowly stretched out his aching legs and pushed the doors open.

“Do you need time off?” Mr Mervin asked just as a panting Thabiso appeared in the doorway, trying to tuck in his shirt and straighten his tie. “Perhaps a little time off will do you good,” Mr Mervin continued.

“No, Mr Mervin, I’m fine.” Thabiso said, trying to catch his breath. He had sprinted across the parking lot and up two flights of stairs.

“You’re anything but fine,” Mr Mervin interjected. “You’re snapping at magistrates, dozing off in your office and the bags under your eyes have clients asking questions. What the hell is going on with you?” he snapped.

“I… I wish I knew,” Thabiso said, covering his face with both hands.

That afternoon Thabiso was forced to take some overdue leave.

“Don’t worry,” Mr Mervin said as he walked Thabiso out to the parking lot. “I’ve been doing this for a long time, and sometimes the body lets you know when it’s time for a break. Take as long as you need.”

His job was safe, the one thing he was worried about. His boss had encouraged him that a little rest would sort him out, and as soon as he was feeling better, he could return to work.

Thabiso began to weigh up his options as he turned left onto the on-ramp towards no particular destination. How was he going to cling onto his sanity over the next two weeks? His job was a healthy distraction from his demons. Perhaps he could go and visit his cousin down at the coast.

His cousin didn’t believe in ancestral callings. That made him one of Thabiso’s favourite people because he would not be on his case about ‘getting in touch with the dead.’ The other option was to stop by the chemist, get something to help him sleep, and head straight home. He could also use the time to read the new book he had bought and catch up on the T.V series he had downloaded. Whatever his choice, Thabiso had a few weeks to decide.

***

Tell us: What would you do if you were Thabiso?