WebNovels

Chapter 6 - Whispers Beneath the Pillow

Whispers Beneath the Pillow (Part 1/2)

Peterson woke up to the smell of boiling coffee and fried plantains, his eyes blinking slowly against the bright slivers of sunlight leaking through the gaps in the wooden shutters. His head pounded heavily. His body ached. But it wasn't the soreness from yesterday's fight—it was the kind of heaviness that came from confusion, like ...

"What the heck happened to me, what is this weird feeling?"

He sat up slowly in bed, rubbing his temples.

"The main question is, ..How did I get here?"

The last thing he remembered was walking home after eating with Jean-Daniel and Wilkens. Then the puddle that had something glowing in it. And there was a necklace aswel. That strange glow is probably the cause of whatever is going on with me. He felt a sudden dizziness which isn't normal.

Then... nothing, everything feels normal again.

He looked down at his hand. It was empty like something was supposed to be there. He now remembers the necklace that he picked up.

That was the absence he felt. Like it had been with him his whole life and now hid somewhere in the room. He pulled off the sheet and searched the bed, patting the mattress, checking under it.

There it was hidden Beneath his pillow.

"The medallion! "

He gasped.

Its silver body shimmered faintly in the dim light, the snakes twisted around the three skulls like they were in motion. The green glow had faded, but it still felt... alive.

Peterson didn't touch it again so the same thing that happened the night before doesn't occur once more, He left it there, hidden right where he just found it, and rose to his feet, stretching with a grunt. His stomach growled as he walked into the kitchen.

His mother, Altagrace, stood over the stove, her back slightly hunched, stirring a pot with one hand and flipping plantains with the other. She glanced over her shoulder at him.

"you look like You slept late last night " she said.

"I didn't feel too well, mom" Peterson muttered, sliding into a chair. "I had a heavy Headache, but I took some Tylenol."

"That's why you shouldn't get into trouble, son."

He looked up, surprised. "I know, I was just trying to help"

"The School called me yesterday," she replied, her tone flat. "They want me to show up for you today."

He rubbed his face, groaning. "I guess, That's probably about the other group that attacked me and my friends while we were heading to class."

Altagrace turned off the stove, plated the food, and set it in front of him. A simple meal—fried plantains, a sliver of avocado, and a thin slice of sausage. She sat across from him, her eyes soft but tired.

"You gonna tell me what happened?"

Peterson took a bite first. Then a breath.

"There was a fight," he said. "Actually... two. First with Jean-Daniel and a younger kid. Then later, some older boys came after us. One of them pulled a knife."

Altagrace's eyes widened, but she didn't speak.

"I stopped him. We got lucky because the Supervisor showed up in time and broke it up. No one got injured."

She nodded slowly, her fingers laced together.

"They said you need to come to school today," Peterson continued. "To talk about it, I didn't know how to tell you that, because I know how busy you are already."

"Are you in trouble?"

"Trust me mom, I didn't start anything," he said firmly. "The attacked us out of the blue and we defended ourselves, That's all."

She stared at him for a long moment, then reached across the table and gently touched his face. "I know, You're a good boy, Peterson. But this world... it's not kind to good boys who fight."

"I didn't have a choice mom."

"I know."

She stood, her face tightening slightly. "I'll go, But I don't have anything decent to wear."

He opened his mouth to argue, but closed it. What could he say? It was true. Her church dress had a tear down the side. Her sandals were worn thin. She'd spent everything this month on school fees and groceries.

"I'll iron your best blouse," he offered.

She gave him a tired smile. "We'll manage."

---

Later that morning...

The schoolyard buzzed with low conversation as parents filed in, their expressions a mix of frustration, worry, and embarrassment. The office waited like a courtroom. A supervisor at the door guided them in one at a time.

Wilkens was absent—he hadn't been called in.

But the rest of the boys were there: Gregory, Alfred, Tony, and Jacques. Gregory's father was a broad-shouldered man with a belt already in hand. Alfred's mom shouted the moment she stepped through the gate. Tony stood still while his aunt hissed threats under her breath. Jacques' big sister looked ready to slap someone.

(Just so yall know, this is typically Haitian parents attitude, when they are called to show up at school for your cause, and you maybe get an arss whooping right in front of everyone)

Peterson and his mother were the last to arrive.

He noticed her shrinking beside him, her posture guarded. Her simple blouse was freshly ironed, but it couldn't hide the frayed collar. Her shoes squeaked with every step. She kept adjusting her scarf, as if it could somehow cover her poverty.

Inside the office, the air was tense.

The supervisor stood at the front with a notepad, the principal beside him.

"Thank you all for coming," the supervisor began. "Today isn't about punishment—it's about accountability."

Each parent was given time to speak. Each child was asked to explain their side. Most of them didn't have much to say. The principal frowned through most of it, nodding slowly, making notes.

Gregory and his friends got scolded right then and there (I'm talking about a good arss whooping) . One mother threatened to take her child out of the school if this happened again. Another dragged her son by the ear on the way out.

When it was Peterson's turn, he stood straight, his voice calm but firm. "I didn't fight to hurt anyone. I only got involved to stop someone from getting hurt."

The supervisor nodded. "That's consistent with what we saw on the footage."

His mother didn't speak much—only enough to say she supported her son and that he'd told her everything. Her voice was quiet, but it held strength.

The principal scribbled something down. "We understand he didn't start the trouble. Still, we can't ignore the fact that he was in the middle of two violent incidents. He'll be suspended for two weeks aswel, like the others."

Altagrace's shoulders sagged. Peterson didn't argue. He just accepted it.

"Thank you for your time, I hope this be a lesson for them to take school serious " the supervisor said.

Outside, as they walked home, she finally broke the silence.

"I'm proud you didn't lie and sorry I couldn't really say anything around these many people talking at the sametime."

"I will never ever lie to you mommy."

"But next time," she said gently, "find another way to be brave okay!"

The rest of the day went like usual, She had to go back to the marketplace to sell her merchandise and Peterson stayed home thinking about the suspension he got just for trying to be a hero.

---

That night, Peterson lay in bed again, staring at the ceiling. He didn't touch the medallion. But it was there. Tucked under the pillow. He could feel it.

The house was quiet. His sisters snored softly in the corner. His mother had gone to sleep early.

And then he heard it.

Whispers of a gentle voice.

Soft. Distant. Like someone murmuring just behind the walls.

He sat up, eyes darting.

Trying to see if his sister maybe were trying to prank him but, Nothing! They were still asleep on their bed.

He checked the door. Locked.

The window. Closed.

Suddenly the whispers faded.

He lay back down.

Minutes passed.

Then it came again.

"Those darn Whispers, am I going crazy!?"

The was still No words—just something close to that. Those words sounds like gibberish. Echoes in the dark.

He clutched the pillow, his heart pounding fast.

"It's the necklace, I'm sure of it, ever since I picked it up I keep hearing things." he thought. "It has to be."

"But what does it want?"

Lost and his thoughts and scared at the sametime, He didn't sleep much that night.

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