CHAPTER 2- PART ONE: A BREATH OF FRESH AIR
1076 Words
How time flies. Time will always be running as if someone is pursuing it.
It had been exactly seven days since the whole package and window incident, the night the unknown person whispered “see you soon” before the lights went out like one bad Nollywood horror movie.
Seven Whole Days that is a week literally.
No strange knocks. No weird calls. No message that makes my heart jump. No packages. Just peace, food, and lectures that made me question my life choices. Honestly, it felt almost too peaceful, like the calm that comes after a very painful menstruation .
I was lying on my bed, scrolling through my phone while Chioma hummed loudly from the bathroom, murdering a Davido song. I could literally feel my ears filing for a restraining order.
“Chioma, abeg, spare my soul! You’re scaring the spirits!” I yelled.
She peeped out, toothbrush hanging from her mouth. “Jealousy no go kill you, Kim! You wish you could sing like me.”
“Sing? My dear, if you ever join The Voice, they’ll rename it The Noise.”
We both burst into laughter, that kind of loud hostel laughter that makes your neighbor knock on the wall in protest.
....
Campus Peace
That week, everything just… slowed down. No secret deliveries. No creepy shadows. Just assignments, cafeteria gossip, and pretending to understand biostatistics; Oh, how I so much hate calculations.
I started enjoying the small things again: walking across the campus in the cool evening air, drinking cold Zobo by the fountain(I made it though with chioma's help obviously because it's very hard to see a good zobo drink around here), dodging unserious guys who thought “Hey pretty girl, what’s your department?” was romantic.
Even Chioma noticed. “You know eeh, since that package thing, your face has started looking fresh again. I think fear is your skincare routine.”
I rolled my eyes. “Maybe I’ll bottle it and sell it: ‘Terror Glow Serum’, for a fearlessly flawless face.’”
She laughed so hard she nearly choked on her chin-chin. “Abeg! Just don’t include that creepy window man as your brand ambassador.”
......
A Week Later
By Friday, I was beginning to think maybe, just maybe, everything had ended. Maybe the strange message, the package, the lights going off… all of it was just a bad mix of stress and caffeine overdose.
Chioma and I even started making plans to attend an inter-department party.
“Kim, it’s been too long,” she said, slapping on lip gloss in front of our mirror. “We need to shake our body small. Shake off this tension.”
“Are you sure? What if—”
“No what ifs! The only scary thing tonight will be the DJ’s playlist.”
She had a point. I hadn’t laughed that much in ages. That night, we went out, danced like people that doesn't have aspirations in life, and came back smelling like alcohol, weed, sweat and freedom. For once, life felt normal.
.....
The next morning, just when I was about to dive into a second round of sleep, my phone rang. It was Mum.
“Ah, Mummy my love, E kaasan !” I answered dramatically.
“My daughter, Imisiiiiiiiiiii! You finally remembered you have a mother?” she replied in that sweet but suspicious tone all Nigerian mothers have.
“Ah-ahn, Mummy please o! I’ve just been busy with school.”
She sighed. “Busy eating hostel noodles and chasing Wi-Fi, abi?”
I laughed. “You know me too well.”
Before I could even settle into the gist, Dad’s voice joined in the background. “Imisioluwa my baby! Guess what your uncles brought for us this week!”
I already knew this would be a long story.
“Oh Lord. What did they bring this time?”
“Two coolers of jellof rice, goat meat, fried fish, bole(roasted plantains), and... wait for it... fufu!”
I gasped. “Fufu?? Daddy, and you didn’t call me immediately?!”
Mum laughed. “If we had sent you pictures, you’d have dropped out and started trekking home!”
Then she launched into a detailed narration of how my aunties argued over who made the best stew. My dad even joined in with dramatic sound effects.
“Your Aunty Loveth said, ‘My stew pass your own!’ and your Uncle Emeka shouted, ‘No be competition, madam!’”
I was wheezing at this point. “Please tell me someone recorded that.”
“Of course,” Mum said proudly. “It’s on the family group chat. Even your grandpa was laughing.”
"Eehennnnn, Aunty Femi is getting married oo!, Chaii!, it's a pity you won't be there, you wey like party like mad!"
"Mummy, hope the man is fine o?!, it is well shaa, make una shaa send me pictures and videos ooo" I replied with pain in my heart; Don't blame me, I'm about to miss out on the wedding rice that always hits different, dance, drink, and enjoyment in general.
My parents continued for almost an hour, from village gossip to Dad’s latest football rant.
Guess the club he supports, Manchester United, that club that is no longer a club but a primary school. Manchester United slander, even if it's by 3 Am, wake me up!!!!.
I didn’t even realize how much I’d missed that noise. For a brief moment, everything felt... okay.
.....
When I hung up, I lay there smiling like an i***t. The afternoon sun spilled into the room, soft and warm. Chioma had dozed off halfway through an assignment, drooling on her notebook.
I stretched lazily, closed my eyes, and thought, "I miss home, I want to go back home to my daddy and mummy".
I almost thought, maybe this whole thing is actually over.
No creepy messages.
No strange voices.
No.....
Then my phone vibrated.
I sighed,"hmmm!"
At first, I ignored it. Maybe it was my group chat or Chioma’s endless memes. But it buzzed again. And again.
I sighed again, picked it up lazily like someone that doesn't have bones in her body… and froze. Sleep vanished from my eyes like flash in Avengers endgame.
The notification wasn’t from any group chat. Or any known app.
It was from an unknown app I didn’t even remember downloading.
The screen glowed faintly, showing only two words:
“Delivery received.”
- Writer
