NIGHTMARE

 

Her mother stared at me like I was dying, like the stilts holding the world in order were soon to snap and crush me over and I hated it. I saw her look at my elder brother the same way six months ago, the next day, he was no more. We never saw him again, not even a part of his body.

**************

I was in the yard one evening when news of a rapidly spreading virus was uttered in hushed tones by neighbours—the landlady and her children. From the intensity of their voices, I sensed panic but I didn't mind then. I believed it was a temporary situation and the government could easily take care of it.

The lockdown began on the 30th of March 2020. It was way cool at first; you get to be indoors, no stressing over deadlines and meetings, eat, sleep and wake any time you wanted.

After three months, coping became impossible. Savings were thinning/exhausted, cost of feeding had increased, and a rigid curfew was installed. The hunger was real.

Homes, companies and stores were burgled every night, neighbours stole from each-other, house owners seized their tenants' foodstuffs unlawfully. I heard a man murdered half of the lowlifes staying at this shed in his yard.

Amidst all the horrors, I found a friend in our landlady's last child. She was kind and thoughtful. When we had nothing to eat, Aria sneaked in food from their kitchen—despite the shortage affecting her family too—for a while. I was worried when she suddenly stopped coming but I knew better than visiting to know why. 

We survived on the strangest; raw vegetables or sometimes we dug the earth for worms and when the rains came, we picked snails. Since our shed had been built with unoriginal materials, the cold was always extreme. The rain fell day and night for a whole week, meaning we were stuck indoors without food and water. Our now stiff bone tightened to the skin. We became so thin and a day closer to death.

************

“How did we end up this way?”, I murmured to Aria's hearing but she ignored, face downcast, hands armed with weapons her mother and siblings also held. They were going to kill and eat us, my heart swelled in fear.

“Mummy, they don't have flesh on their body again. . . ”, Chiké, her fourth child and second son grumbled.

Staring at us in coldness, she replied, “Well, it's because your sister stopped dashing them all our food. Probably why!”, pointing a breadknife towards me, she announced, “For starters, we go with the thinnest first”. Aria started to disagree but the oldest of her siblings harshly sent her off.

“Awwwwn. . .”, the landlady cooed, “Don't look at me like that. I'm not even a bad person, it's just Life playing out”, she feigned to sniff and clean up imaginary tears from her eyes, “Your place and mine can never change”.

Pain coursing through my skinny physique, I cried, “Please, don't kill me” and they laughed. They laughed at the movement of my hands, they laughed at my voice and my language. All they saw and heard were chickens clucking and flapping their wings in fear when all we did was beg. Beg for life.