Eighteen O' Five {ONGOING}🇳🇬

•~~Chapter Eleven~~•

We returned home to our father, told him the questions that were asked and how we answered. He said we did pretty well but should expect the next rounds of interrogation to be grasping at straws. It was scary the way he said it.

To tell you what was scarier, Aderera's missing body. My head couldn't stop thinking what if she was still alive out there, somewhere, or someone else found her body. But who would even want to keep a dead body with them?

Maybe I just shouldn't have left her after all, it was a dumb thing of me to do. If she made it out alive, she would never really forgive me for leaving her behind.

My dad consoled me not to bother about the missing body, he promised to sort it out his way. His way, I couldn't think about it as long as the statement made me feel better, and that was all I needed; to feel better.

“Just make sure you continue to answer their questions intelligently. No pressure. Calm down, think, answer,” he said. “You'll both be fine doing just that, trust me.”

He encouraged us to go about our daily lives as though nothing happened, that way we'd be able to manage the pressure and stay sane.

Sane.

As for me, leaving the damn town was my only hope to staying sane, being mentally exhausted by all that was going on.

*

Later that evening, we sat in the dining room like every other night, to have dinner together.

Olamipo walked out of the kitchen door, with two white bowls in her hands, she joined my dad I at the dining table. She took the lid off one of the bowls, and the aroma of egg sauce escaped, filling the air with sweetness. That sweet smell reminded me of my mom, her egg sauce was the best, even though I would always pick out the tomatoes and onions. That got me nothing but lashes of leather in the middle of my back. She would make sure, with a belt in her hand, that I finished every bit of it.

Olamipo filled our plates with the egg sauce and served two slices of yam each from the second bowl. I took my elbows off the table, sat up straight, grabbed the cutleries, ready to devour.

“Hmm-hmm,” my dad cleared his throat, kept his eye on me. “Prayer.”

We stretched our arms out, holding each other in a triangle, bowed our heads, and shut our eyes.

“Olamide, pray for us,” he said.

Me?

I remained quiet with my eyes still closed, hoping he would change his mind and pray as he did every time.

“Pray,” he said again.

The tone he spoke with was rather unfriendly so I began, “In Jesus name.”

“Amen!” they chorused.

“In the mighty name of Jesus,” I repeated.

“Amen!” they chorused again.

“In the mighty mighty name of Jesus Christ!”

The ‘Amen’ was reluctantly and only said by Olamipo this time. When I opened my eyes slightly to see why my dad didn't respond, my eyes met his, and instantly I shut them back to continue the prayer. He had this starving-lion look on his face.

“Sorry.” I sat up straight. “Heavenly Father we thank you for providing us with this wonderful meal tonight. We are grateful. We pray you continue to provide us with daily bread. In Jesus name, we pray.”

“Amen!”

“It wasn't so difficult, was it?” he asked as we began to eat.

We filled our cups with orange juice, ate while also making pleasant conversations.

Shortly after dinner, we were seated in the sitting room enjoying a TV series together when Dorcas made a rude entry into the house. The door had been left unlocked.

She marched into our house looking frantic like a woman about to nab the unfortunate she-goat that has been seeing her boyfriend.

She didn't greet my dad, not a single word to anyone. She just stood there staring at us with her eyes agape, they looked like they would fall right out of their sockets.

Myself and Olamipo eyed her with stares as blank as our thoughts. We were not sure what to make of her raging appearance, or how to react to it. Father was as clueless as we were, too.

“Hello Dorcas,” my dad said.

She remained mute, shuffled a few steps on the tiled floor, with her eyes fixed, on me.

“She is dead, isn't she?” she finally spoke.

Her words echoed in my ears like repeated footsteps on an empty marble hallway. My head thumped.

“What!? Dorcas, you need to leave now!” Olamipo yelled, rose to her feet.

“Hmm-Hmm,” my dad cautioned, and Olamipo returned in her seat, reluctantly.

“He is not saying a thing, he did it. You did it right? Just fucking say it” Dorcas continued to shuffle her steps, clawing her hair like a coke addict that has been short on supply. “Just tell me you did it. God, this is driving me...”

My hormones were not functional, I just remained in the chair, frozen, swallowing my thoughts and staring at Dorcas in disbelief.

“Dorcas, you need to—” my dad started.

“You know about this too?” she turned to my dad, cut him short.

“Get out now!” Olamipo shouted.

My dad cautioned her again.

“Dorcas, I have no idea what you're talking about but if there is something you're willing to talk about, we can just sit and talk about it,” my dad said.

“Oh fuck!” she took her hands up to her hair again, ruffled them with her fingers. “You guys are really not going to tell me the truth right? You know what, I'm done keeping quiet. I'm telling my dad what I know. I'm done.”

She ran out of the house, slamming the door behind her.

- - -