Bisi races through the crowd, her braids bouncing with every step, a dazzling smile illuminating her face as she greets familiar faces. Villagers wave, their voices ringing with affection, and the gentle lilt of her mother’s voice floats from their verandah. Her mother, wrapped in a patterned wrapper, stands with hands on hips, her eyes warm yet firm. "Bisi, remember to come straight home after school today, my dear," she calls, and Bisi nods, heart swelling with joy, convinced no shadow could ever touch her world.
Bisi pauses at a crossroads, her friends beckoning with mischievous grins and playful shouts. Tolu, her eyes sparkling with mischief, waves from beneath the tree’s heavy branches. "Bisi, just this once—stay with us. Your mama won’t mind!" The golden light fades, and the promise of adventure dances in the air, tempting Bisi to step away from her mother's words and into the gathering dusk.
Bisi follows her friends deeper among the whispering trees, unease prickling her skin. A shadow looms—a veiled figure, the Cult Leader, begins a low chant, voice weaving dark magic into the night. Suddenly, a wild wind whirls, leaves swirling, and Bisi feels herself shrinking, fur sprouting, until she huddles—small and helpless—a trembling rat beneath the ancient moon.
Bisi[/@ch_1] sits, hollow-eyed, her laughter vanished.]
Her mother watches from the doorway, worry furrowing her brow as she calls softly, yet receives only silence in return. At night, Bisi slips from her room, her form twisting painfully into a rat, scurrying through shadows and beneath furniture. One evening, her mother, startled by the squeak and scuffle, snatches up a broom, face pale with fear. "Yee! Rat! Leave my house at once!" she cries, the broom nearly striking her own daughter, who escapes by a whisker.
Bisi drifts through crowded hallways, her friends exchanging anxious glances, their playful energy now tinged with confusion and worry. Tolu approaches, guilt etched in every line of her face. "What happened to you, Bisi? You don’t laugh anymore. We’re all worried," she pleads, but Bisi only lowers her eyes, unable to explain the darkness that clings to her soul. The once vibrant child becomes a shadow, haunted by secrets too heavy to share.
Elder Emeka, his beard frosted with age, sits at the market’s edge, shaking his head as tales of Bisi swirl around him. "What happened to that child? She was the sun in our midst," he murmurs, sadness weighing his voice. The story of Bisi lingers in every corner, a mystery and a warning, as the villagers wonder if the light will ever return to the eyes of their beloved girl.
