No! This can’t be happening.

How can this be?

What is really going on here?

These were the questions on my mind when I opened the door and received the shock of my life. All at once, my hands started shaking as it does every time and the glass of water I was holding on my hand slipped from my grasp and fell on the tiled floor. I felt numb, and continued to stare, my eyes searching for anything real and my heart shattering again.

“Jesus Christ!” Michael my Fiancé said as he joined me at the door. He must have heard the sound of the broken glass. We have known each other for six months. Michael had saved me from myself, I would have been lost without him. It was still early Saturday morning in the city of Enugu. Michael who worked as a doctor at LUTH hospital in Lagos had come down to my apartment in Enugu to stay with me for the weekend. Here I teach kids in Nursery school – a job that was part of the reason why I had not yet lost my mind. Michael had been so worried about me. Immediately he came back yesterday, he started checking my body temperature, and my blood pressure. It enabled him to monitor the progress I’d been making so far. Every time he travelled, he’d worried to death that I might suddenly go to the other side.

I won’t blame him. He brought me back from the clutches of death.

“Vivian, this is not real,” Michael said as he began to drag me inside. I believed him. It can’t be real.

“Watch it,” he quickly added as I almost stepped on shards of broken glass. I froze and he then carried me across the long corridor and lifted me down in front of the door to our room. He then rushed to the kitchen to bring broom to clean up the mess at the front door.

I entered the room and collapsed on the bed as tears started dropping from my eyes.

In two minutes time, Michael was already at my side “Don’t cry Vivian. Please! Life is not fair but it can’t be true.”

But I couldn’t hold it any longer. I started to cry. It was too much. Michael held me in his arms but he couldn’t console me. No one could.

Michael. He had gone to hell with me too. He’d helped me to pick up the broken pieces of my soul after the tragedy that almost destroyed my life.

Broken bones, tormented cries of the dead, blood and bullets; these are the summary of the dream I had every night. During the day, they would come back in form of nightmares to haunt me.

In few minutes, I closed my eyes and started sleeping. And I saw them again. The horrible details. The struggle, and then the broken bones, the deafening cry which was put to an end by series of heartless bullets.

When I suddenly opened my eyes, gasping for breath, I heard Michael shouting “Stop! Vivian, wake up!”

“You were kept saying two words in your sleep; no, don’t,” he added.

He held me tight in his arms as we both started to sob silently “Everything will be fine Vivian, I promise.” I nodded as he crushed his lips on mine and kissed me hard, as though this would be the last time he would be with me. It was so vicious that it cut off my oxygen supply. I pushed him aside with my weak hands and scrambled for air as I began to cough. I took three deep breaths, then drew him closer and rested my head on his chest.

I felt broken.

This was what I pass through every day. Michael had taken me to pastors and his fellow doctors, yet nothing had changed. For the past 12 months, my dreams had continued to torment me. And my mind had continued to tie me to my past. I couldn’t let go. My past had overwhelmed me, swallowed me up and kept me in chains. Even Michael couldn’t teach me how to love again.

Every day when I woke up, I’d still remember the day my life ended; a day I would never forget. Whenever his name flash through my mind, tears would flood my eyes. His name brought back all the memories. Agony. Tears. Pain. Helplessness.

Richard

My Richard. The bone of my bone. The blood in my veins. The air that I breathe. My reason for being alive.

The first time I met Richard was three years ago at my friend’s wedding ceremony. I was one of the bridesmaids. He was one of the men in suit. I later found out that he was a friend of the bridegroom. Immediately our eyes met on that fateful day, somehow, we both knew that our lives would never remain the same again.

Then I was still a fresh graduate from the University. Richard on the other hand was working in the National Intelligence Agency at Abuja. They were a special kind of security operatives. He had great love for his country.

Meeting Richard changed my life. Our love for each other was like a hurricane ready to tear everything apart but couldn’t. It was so intense that we couldn’t survive a day without hearing from each other. Then I usually felt like I would faint anytime he promised to call but failed. And when we finally saw each other, it would seem as though we were in heaven. Loving Richard brought peace and balance in my life. It was us against the world.

A year into the relationship, he proposed and I quickly accepted before I’d go insane. Something he said that day still echoed in my mind, “My love, any time I leave you and travel back to Abuja, I feel like a part of me is gone.”

I knew then that without him, my life would lose its meaning.

After our engagement party, we were so excited. I introduced him to my parents, they quickly approved and when he introduced me to his family, I blended in naturally. It was as though I had always been a member of their family.

While I was tall, dark and plump, Richard was of average height, fair, and handsome. He was the perfect gentleman. His eyes were magical and they always had effect on me. Whenever I looked at them, they’d drew me in and when I’d hear his voice, my heart would open up to welcome him. He had a way of getting to me. Even when we were silent on the bed, we’d still be communicating with each other as we listen to the sound of our heart beats. My heart was tied to his.

That was us. It was to be a union made in heaven.

Frantically, we rushed up the wedding plans and got everything ready for the big day. The last message he sent to me was still etched on my mind.

“Baby, I can’t wait for you to finally be mine.”

But while we made plans, fate came in the way.

On the eve of my wedding day, my female friends were in my room with me perfecting the Saturday plans and adjusting the details when we heard the knock on the door.

Rita, my friend opened the door and we were surprised when we saw who it was. Richard’s mother. She was crying. I quickly stood up from the chair where I was sitting as my make-up kits scattered on the floor.

“Mama, why are you crying? What is the problem?”

Did something got burnt?

“I just got a phone call,” she said quietly.

I wanted to ask her what the phone call was all about but she quickly added, “Just switch on the television.” And she left.

Rachel, my other friend quickly switched on the TV inside the room and we discovered that it was already in the news.

“Oh my God!” Everyone in the room was silent. I couldn’t believe it.



Read more: https://stanleyumezulike.com.ng/2018/12/29/richard/#ixzz5bT9NDT4d