A VAL OF VOID (1)

Photo by Mohamed Nohassi on Unsplash

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(A Day to Val)

It was a yearly custom for I and Felix my husband to celebrate Valentine’s Day. As the ‘lover’s-day’ approached, we would tend to become more clingy and romantic. We would try to create and recreate moments, hang out and have fun. To me, Val could be celebrated at any age. It was even sweeter when one was older.

He always made me feel special. As such, I always looked forward to celebrating such a day with my one and only lover.

That night, we lay on the bed, looking upwards towards the ceiling. The dim lights in the room gave a warm and cosy impression. I breathed in and out. It was time to feel at home again; indeed I was at home.

“Remember how we spent last year’s Val?” He asked.

“Yes love, we went to the cinema and had popcorn too, and when we came back home, you sang for me”

“Absolutely right baby…Well, it’s gonna be different by tomorrow”

“Really?!” I asked in surprise and anticipation; Felix always liked surprising me; one of the reasons I loved him even more. 

“It’s a surprise, you’ll get to know by tomorrow” he whispered softly into my ears. 

My stomach tinged with excitement, I chuckled and turned to stare at him; emotions building up.

“Come here,” I said as I tried pulling him closer, but he was bigger than me in size, so I moved closer instead. 

“You’re such a blessing to me, love,” I said in the best possible romantic way I could.

And then just as I needed, or maybe as I was expecting; he planted a kiss on my lips. I froze; I didn’t want it to end that way, I wanted more, I just wanted him at that moment. I held on to him and kissed him back, and then we made love.

A few hours later, I lay peacefully in his arms; listening to his heartbeat and gentle snore, I smiled; I loved them, I Loved everything about him. 

I was so tired, and in no time, I drifted to sleep.

“Goodnight honey” he whispered, but I was too tired to respond.

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(VAL’s DAY)

When I opened my eyes and regained consciousness, I felt something wasn’t right. I double-tapped the screen of my phone which lay beside me. The time was 6:25 am. I hushed the weird feelings aside; maybe I was just tensed and super excited about how Felix would gift me with a new Valentine's surprise that day.

I turned to kiss him on the cheeks and then whispered some words into his left ear.

‘Happy Val my love’ I said, amidst the darkness which enveloped the room. He didn’t respond, which I wasn’t expecting him to, because I knew he was fast asleep.

I noticed that his breathing was slow and unusual. It seemed like he was struggling to breathe. His left arm, on which I’d been resting, lay lifeless and wasn’t as warm as it should be.

“Felix, are you okay?” I asked, shoving him repeatedly as anxiety and fear began building up inside me. I usually called him by his name when it had to do with something serious, or whenever I was angry. 

There was still no response from him; I reached out for the torchlight which lay on a medium-sized stool, close to the bed. I flicked it on and pointed it towards him.

After screaming countlessly, I blacked out.

————————————————————————

I didn’t want to believe that Felix was bleeding profusely from the left side of his abdomen that he had been stabbed with a knife, or that I had just seen a syringe and a bottle of a certain chemical lying on the floor. 

No, it wasn’t happening. 

Something had happened while I slept.

I was revived by some neighbours.

“Prisca are you ok??!” Mummy Philips asked as she placed my head gently against her lap. 

I shook my head; tears rolling down my cheeks. 

I had been moved to the sitting room; if I was still in the blood-stained room, in such a state, I would have thrown up.

I lay on the sofa. Mummy Philips sat on a stool close to the sofa, fanning me. She sobbed quietly. The room was congested; there was a crowd, as expected.

There were a lot of valuable items in the house and I didn’t want them to be carted away by strangers. So I stood up to see to their safety.

Mummy Philips stopped me, she told me not to worry that no one had gone beyond the sitting room where we had all gathered, awaiting the ambulance and the police.

Some women were shouting; others were sobbing. 

“Aru!! (Abomination!!)” One of them said, shaking her head in disappointment. She was almost rolling on the floor crying and shouting even louder, as if she knew Felix better than I did.

“Hewwu Chim!!” (Oh my God!) another exclaimed. Holding her hands above her head. Their presence irritated me the more.

People discussed in low tones, others stood and stared silently.

“Talk to me Prisca, what happened to your husband last night?” Mummy Philips asked. A huge lump built up inside my throat, and as much as I tried to say something, I couldn’t.

I was there with her but my mind wasn’t. All I could attempt to think of was Felix. Whether he was already dead or would manage to survive. It seemed like God answered my prayers of evading her questions, because we were distracted again.

There was a siren wailing outside. The Ambulance had arrived. It was the same siren sound which I’d heard during my aged Mother’s burial, the same sound that we heard when Festus my colleague was to be buried too, the same sound we’d heard when Adanna was rushed to the hospital that fateful day in 2010 when she fell down from the second floor of our three storey tenant building.

It was always a familiar sound; very persistent and never-ending. Whenever ambulances or vehicles drove past us on the highway with such sounds; it only meant two things. It was either it was carrying a corpse, or it was carrying a patient or accident victim, close to seeing his/her maker. 

“Prisca, are you ok?” Mummy Philips asked, tapping me gently. “Please talk to me”.

I only stared at her quietly. If only she knew that I didn’t wish to speak at all, she would stop asking me; Prisca are you okay? Prisca, what happened? Prisca this…Prisca that. 

The fear of losing him didn’t let me speak; everything seemed like a bad dream.

Recalling such a scene; the knife, his bleeding abdomen, the blood, the sore painful and helpless look on his face, only made me feel weaker. It was his turn to be carried in a wailing ambulance, to be pronounced dead or alive. Felix, my partner, my husband, my love, my one and only, my ride or die.

I cursed whoever had done this; 

“you shall know no peace” I muttered; trying not to be so audible so that Mummy Philip wouldn’t hear me, or she would think I was referring to her.

She only stared at me and wiped away the balls of sweat on my face. The room was already stuffy and I was almost choking, so she instructed an elderly man to send everyone out.

I watched as four hefty men carried my lover on a stretcher, out of the room and into the ambulance. He was covered fully with a white hospital material.

Soon I could hear the distant wailing of the siren as it moved further from where we were. Within seconds it finally vanished.

“Talk to me, Prisca” mummy Philip said to me gently. “Tell me what happened”

And after some seconds, I managed to speak.

“I woke up this morning and noticed that his breathing was fast and irregular, his hands were already cold too, and there was a knife to his….” 

No, I couldn’t complete the statement. It was horrible. How could I easily describe such? How could I say what I saw, comfortably? What kind of heart-of-stone did I have?

In a matter of seconds, my sanity left me. I was told I went berserk.

“No Prisca! No Prisca! He’s not dying! He loves you, Felix is strong! He will survive in the hospital, just believe! Just believe! Just believe! Just believe! Oh my Felix, I miss you! I miss you! Please don’t leave me!”

It was me shouting to myself. 

I’d broken free from Mummy Philip’s grip and tried pulling off my clothes. She had to stop me. And after much struggle, I blacked out. 

(….continued in part 2)