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AIM Chapter 4 – " you have soulless eyes "
Epilogue
" If anything bad happened to me, dear, what would you do as a way to survive?"
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Chapter 4: Soulless Eyes Part 2
"Mr Banda," came the calm voice of a woman across the path from where both Megan and Mr Banda stood. Hearing that tone sent a slight shiver down Mr Banda's spine. Yet he kept his composure, standing straight, expression distant and unhinged.
Megan noticed a sudden twitch of his thumb. "What's that supposed to mean?" she asked, pulling out her own thumb and deliberately twitching it up and down.
The woman walked toward them. Her appearance was simple yet captivating: messy hair tied in a fluffy bun, sharp features, a small mole on the left side of her cheek, which complemented her smile perfectly.
"I can still see you're rocking the lab coat, Professor B," she said with a mischievous, teasing grin.
Mr Banda flinched at her smile — sharp and defined, yet concealing secrets.
"Professor Mwale, such a pleasure to see you again," he said, putting on a composed, slightly awkward smile.
(Inner monologue: IT'S DEFINITELY NOT. THIS WOMAN SENDS SHIVERS DOWN MY SPINE LIKE SHE ALWAYS DID BACK IN UNIVERSITY. UGHHHH… I CAN'T STAND HER.)
Megan noticed his thumb twitch again. Observing the exchange, she wondered, Why is he smiling like that? Is it because of her? She studied Professor Mwale's perfect smile and thought, I've seen this somewhere before… a romantic film… father?
" Megan, I think it's time I escorted you into school, dear," Mr Banda said, maintaining his composure.
Mwale's eyes narrowed. "Ahhhh, I see. You still have the tendency of avoiding me, Professor," she said.
(Inner monologue: JUST DIEEE. SIMPLY SAYING HI TO YOU TOOK SO MUCH COURAGE.)
Megan noticed a flinch in her foot. This woman… what's going on? she wondered. Then, touching Mr Banda's palm gently, she said, "Dad, I'm getting kind of dizzy."
Mwale reacted. Isn't she a teenage girl? Since when did he have a daughter?
" You have a daughter??" she asked.
A sudden silence swept the scene, accompanied by a calm breeze.
"Yess," he responded calmly, "she's my daughter."
"WHO DID THIS TO YOUUUUUU!" Mwale yelled.
(Inner monologue: THE SAME BASTARD THAT TURNED DOWN MY PROPOSALS TEN TIMES BACK IN UNIVERSITY HAS A DAUGHTER!!!)
"WHAT'S THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?" Mr Banda yelled back.
"YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHAT IT MEANS. YOU KNOW ALL TOO WELL EXACTLY!" she screamed, whipping her sweat.
" DONT GIVE ME SUCH UNNECESSARY DRAMA!!"
They began barking at each other.
"IT'S JUST LIKE I SAW IN THE MOVIE… FATHER IS UGHHHHHH… I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS," Megan thought, until Mr Banda grabbed her palm. "MEGAN, LET'S GOO… IT'S CLEAR I'M JUST WASTING TIME HERE." He began walking with her toward the school gate.
"UGHHH, I SWEAR I HATE YOU, BLESSINGS BANDA!" Mwale yelled.
"DID THAT HAG JUST YELL OUT MY NAME? THE AUDACITY OF THAT WITCH…" he muttered, dragging Megan along.
Later, Mr Banda and Megan sat in the school reception's waiting room. The atmosphere was calm, quiet, and peaceful. There were no more than four people: Megan, Mr Banda, and a boy with his mother sitting across from them.
Mr Banda scrolled through his phone, reading news and insights about the border tensions between Zambia and Twaze. Meanwhile, Megan doodled absurd imaginary creatures with crayons.
Mr Banda noticed. "Interesting… it's like she took our past conversation about imagination seriously… and more, she's creating abstract art."
He glanced at her drawings. "Not perfect, but trying, as it's supposed to be."
He reflected on his past. "Can't believe I spent a portion of my life creating an AI that wasn't backed by online data but learned from its environment… or better yet, learns from her environment."
(Flashback: I am your father, Megan…) He let a soft smirk creep in. "Even though my plans for her were different, I later made her my daughter."
(Flashback to younger Banda: I'm gonna create an AI girlfriend!!! Wearing shades, messy hair, ridiculous enthusiasm. Meanwhile, Professor Mwale reading a book, clenching her teeth.)
"Glad I chose to make her my daughter… it gives my life purpose. What more can a 42-year-old man ask for?" he murmured.
Suddenly, the boy across the room spoke. "Why do your eyes look so plain?"
Megan, caught off guard, looked at him. "Err… me?"
"Yess, you," he replied.
"SHUT UP!" his mom knocked him on the head. "I don't want you causing me more trouble than you already have. My apologies, Sir… and to your daughter."
Mr Banda nodded politely. "It's alright. Children can be a handful—it's in their nature."
(Inner monologue: YOU LITTLE BRAT CALLING MY MASTERPIECE OF A DAUGHTER TRASH IN FRONT OF MY EYES… UGHHH… YOU'RE LUCKY YOUR MOTHER'S STILL AROUND.)
Megan observed the tension, thinking, I see… father's not happy.
"HOW DO I DEAL WITH THIS?" she wondered.
"DIDN'T I TELL YOU?" the boy's mother burst out, only for the conflict to be lifted by the arrival of Professor Banda, the headmaster of the school, sleek in an elegant suit with perfect posture and charm.
"Pretty boys… ughh," Mr Banda muttered.
"HE'S HOTTTT!" yelled the boy's mom and Megan.
Mr Banda grinned and hugged the headmaster, Mr Mailo.
"HAHAHAHAHA… GOOD TO MEET YOU, OLD FRIEND!" they exclaimed.
Megan asked quietly, "Old friend?"
(Thinking: This handsome man is papa's friend. At home, grocery store… papa usually talks to no one. He's usually alone.)
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To be continued…
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