The First Incident
809 Words
The message stayed in Ijeoma’s mind long after she read it.
“Now you are exactly where they want you.”
She didn’t understand it.
But she couldn’t ignore it anymore.
Because everything around her was starting to feel like it was connected.
That night, sleep came in pieces.
Short.
Broken.
Unsettling.
When morning finally came, Ijeoma felt more tired than rested.
She sat up slowly on her bed, pressing her fingers lightly against her temple.
Her head wasn’t aching…
But something inside her felt off.
Like her body was there, but her mind hadn’t fully returned from whatever it was dealing with.
“I just need to focus on work,” she whispered.
But even that sounded uncertain.
She got ready quietly and stepped outside.
The air felt normal.
The street felt normal.
Everything looked like any other day.
But she didn’t feel normal inside it.
The moment she stepped into the building, the familiar tension returned.
Not loud.
Not obvious.
But present.
She could feel it.
Like something invisible had followed her in.
She went straight to her duties without delay.
The supervisor didn’t say much this time.
Just handed her a list.
A longer list than usual.
Ijeoma glanced at it briefly.
Her fingers tightened slightly around the paper.
But she said nothing.
“Yes ma,” she replied quietly.
The tasks were not just many.
They were exhausting.
More rooms.
More floors.
More areas that required careful attention.
By midday, her arms already felt strained.
Her movements were slower, but she forced herself to keep going.
“I can’t afford to slow down,” she murmured.
Her breathing became heavier as she continued.
Still, she didn’t stop.
It happened suddenly.
Too suddenly.
Ijeoma was cleaning inside one of the upper offices.
The floor had just been mopped.
Still slightly wet.
She moved carefully, trying not to rush.
But as she stepped backward—
Her foot slipped.
Everything happened in seconds.
Her body lost balance.
Her hand tried to grab something—
But missed.
She fell hard.
The impact hit her side first.
Then her arm.
A sharp pain shot through her wrist.
She gasped softly.
For a moment, she couldn’t move.
The room was silent.
Too silent.
Ijeoma lay there, her breath uneven.
Her heart beating faster than normal.
Pain spread slowly through her arm.
Not unbearable.
But enough to make her wince.
She closed her eyes briefly.
“Just get up…” she whispered to herself.
Slowly, she pushed herself up.
Her movements careful.
Unsteady.
She looked at her wrist.
It wasn’t swollen badly.
But it hurt.
A lot more than she expected.
She looked toward the door.
No one.
No footsteps.
No voices.
Nothing.
It was like no one even knew what had just happened.
Or worse—
Like no one cared.
A small breath escaped her lips.
She stood there for a moment, holding her wrist lightly.
“I can’t stop working…” she whispered.
But even she knew—
Something about this didn’t feel right.
Later, as she stepped out into the corridor, trying to continue her work—
Akachukwu appeared.
He stopped almost immediately when he saw her.
Something was off.
Her posture.
Her movement.
Her expression.
“You’re injured,” he said.
Not a question.
A statement.
Ijeoma froze slightly.
“I’m fine, sir.”
But her voice wasn’t as steady as she wanted it to be.
His eyes moved briefly to her wrist.
Then back to her face.
“That’s not fine.”
Silence stretched between them.
Ijeoma didn’t know what to say.
She didn’t want attention.
She didn’t want problems.
She just wanted to keep working.
“It’s nothing serious,” she said quietly.
But even as she spoke, the pain in her wrist disagreed.
Akachukwu’s expression hardened slightly.
“Stop working.”
Her eyes lifted quickly.
“Sir?”
“I said stop.”
His voice wasn’t loud.
But it carried weight.
Authority.
Finality.
Ijeoma hesitated.
She wasn’t used to this.
Someone insisting.
Someone noticing.
Someone… stopping her.
“I can continue,” she said softly.
But he shook his head once.
“You’re not continuing anything in that condition.”
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
The hallway felt quieter than before.
Different.
Ijeoma’s fingers tightened slightly.
Not from pain.
But from something she didn’t fully understand.
Why was he doing this?
Why did it feel like it mattered to him?
As she stood there, unsure of what to do—
Her phone vibrated again.
The sound felt louder than usual.
Her heart dropped slightly.
Slowly, she reached for it.
And opened the message.
“This is only the beginning.”
Her breath caught.
Her eyes lifted slowly.
And this time—
She didn’t feel confused.
She felt something else.
Something deeper.
Something heavier.
She felt like whatever this was…
It had finally started.
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