Femi: “Folake, I’m home…”
It had been a long, exhausting day at work for Femi, and the only thing that kept him going was the thought of Folake. He knew she would have prepared something special for him, she always did.
And her foot rub?
Out of this world.
After wrapping up the day’s transactions, he headed home with Yomi.
They couldn’t stop arguing about football.
Femi supported Arsenal.
Yomi supported Manchester United.
Back and forth.
Loud. Petty. Familiar.
“Arsenal this”
“United that”
“You people have no shame”
Laughter.
The kind that makes you forget how tired you are.
The kind that makes everything feel… normal.
Until
They got to the door.
It was slightly open.
Not wide.
Not broken.
Just… open.
Femi slowed down.
Just a little.
“Did you lock when you left?” Yomi asked casually.
Femi: shhhh!!!
Something about it sat wrong.
But not wrong enough.
He pushed the door open.
It creaked.
Soft.
Too soft.
They stepped in.
The house was quiet.
Too quiet.
No TV.
No music.
No movement.
“Folake?” Femi called out.
No response.
They moved further in.
Step by step.
And then
Femi saw it.
Not clearly.
Not fully.
Just
Something.
Behind the chair.
He squinted.
Took another step.
An arm.
Still.
Unnatural.
His chest tightened.
His body stopped moving.
His mind didn’t.
Run to her.
No, wait.
What if someone is still here?
What if this is not what you think it is?
His breathing changed.
Shallow.
Fast.
Then
His eyes shifted.
The wig.
On the floor.
Tilted slightly to the side.
He knew that wig.
Folake’s wig.
Something inside him dropped.
Hard.
For a fraction of a second
Something else rose.
Something cold.
Something calculating.
Then it disappeared.
Just like that.
Fear rushed in to take its place.
“Femi…?” Yomi said.
Femi didn’t answer.
Yomi followed his gaze.
And froze.
Everything stopped.
Time. Sound. Thought.
Then
Yomi ran.
“Folake!”
That snapped Femi out of it.
He rushed forward, almost slipping, dropping to his knees beside her.
“Folake… please…”
He grabbed her.
Pulled her toward him.
Her body felt
Wrong.
Too heavy.
Too still.
“Wake up, Folake… this is not funny…”
He shook her.
Harder this time.
Nothing.
“Folake!”
Yomi reached for her pulse.
His fingers trembled.
He pressed.
Waited.
Nothing.
He checked again.
Longer this time.
Still nothing.
Yomi pulled back slightly.
His face changed.
“Femi…”
“No.”
“Femi”
“No!” Femi snapped.
“Don’t say it.”
Silence.
Then
Yomi grabbed his phone.
His hands wouldn’t stay still.
He dialled.
Put it on speaker.
Emergency Operator: “Slow down, sir. What is your name?”
Yomi: “My name is Yomi”
Operator: “What is your emergency?”
Yomi: “She’s”
He looked at Femi.
Femi shook his head.
Slowly.
Desperately.
“she’s not breathing.”
Operator: “Okay. Stay with me. Who is not breathing?”
Yomi swallowed.
“His wife.”
Femi: “Don’t you dare”
Operator: “Sir, I need clarity. What exactly is happening?”
Yomi started pacing.
Short steps.
Back and forth.
Like the movement could fix something.
“Please… just send help…”
Operator: “We are sending help. But I need you to stay calm. Is there anyone else with you?”
Yomi looked at Femi.
Then handed him the phone.
Femi took it.
Barely.
Femi: “She’s my wife.”
Operator: “What is your name, sir?”
Femi: “Femi.”
Operator: “Femi, listen to me carefully. Is anyone else in the house?”
Femi looked around.
The silence pressed in.
Every corner suddenly felt occupied.
“I… I don’t know.”
A floorboard creaked somewhere in the house.
Femi froze.
Operator: “Femi?”
He didn’t respond.
His eyes moved slowly.
Scanning.
Listening.
Operator: “Femi, are you in a safe place?”
His voice dropped.
“I don’t think so…”
Yomi stopped pacing.
“Did you hear that?”
Another sound.
Faint.
A shift.
Like weight being moved.
Somewhere deeper in the house.
Femi’s grip tightened on the phone.
His breathing slowed.
Not from calm
From focus.
He looked at Yomi.
Yomi looked back.
No words.
Just understanding.
They were not alone.
To be continued… next Sunday.
With Love,
Ayo
Comments
Post a Comment