The Single Guy Diary (Part Sixteen)

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Life is a bitch says Maya Angelou, you’ve gotta hold it by the horns.

As I remember my ear ringing like a firecracker blew up in my face, I couldn’t be grateful enough I could still flip those eyes open.

One thing came to mind – what if I’d died? What if my last scene on earth was seeing my best friend raped? What if…what if…?

Perhaps, I’d have been one battered ghost roaming the earth in search of those god-damn-murderers and ensuring their lives are nothing less than a hell on earth.

I felt my right arm developing a mind of its own; it would jerk on reflex, stiffen up, jerk again… and that got me scared – really scared…like, would my arm be amputated? Yes, I’m ambidextrous but – hell no! – I still need my right hand.

I made a 60° turn to the right, only to see mum on the other side of the bed. She took the first morning flight to Lagos.

“Oh my God! Sweetheart are you okay?” she gasped like she’d waited for me a decade to make that turn.

Mum’s eyes were as red as crimson and I perfectly understand why; I’ve left her hanging for 3yrs on when I want to settle down. No, she’s modern but as the only child, she sees me as the only hope of getting her back to rocking a baby again.

“I’d make sure my grandchild is strong enough before leaving your house” she often says. Yes, she loves kids. She’s even tried adopting one, but dad won’t let her.

If I’d died mum would commit suicide, that I know.

“Mum” I smiled as I called her, in awe.

Though we talk almost every day, it’s been 14months since we last saw.

Sophie’s mum was with her, with heavy eyes as well. And that got me worried again.

No one has told me where Sophie is; is she okay at all? Was she injured? Was she shot, too? Were all questions that troubled me.

Mum looked at me and together with Sophie’s mum said “Sophie is fine”. They both said with a smile as though they perfectly knew what I was thinking.

I took a heavy sigh shaded with some smile.

It was 11.23 am. The light-skinned doctor walked in to inform us everything is under absolute control, that I will be out of there in a jiffy.

I wanted to ask if my arm would be amputated, but he made us understood the procedures undergone are what is making me feel that way. Again, I was relieved.

It took me a while to snap out of that what-if-I’d-died feeling to that I’m-determined-to-make-my-life-count conviction. I remember dad’s words “You never can tell when the worst happens; just be good, expectant and convinced that when it happens, you’d smile to your grave, with absolutely nothing to worry about”.

This is the first day of the rest of my life and this time, I’m going to be the best I can be.


© 2015 Michael Agene

Disclaimer:

This is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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