Song Recommendation: Demons by Nightcore (Female Version)
Two days later...
The sky was still dull with the sun not yet completely up. The morning cold was still fresh and clean.
Delia stood up, picking up her empty breakfast plate, making her way to the kitchen. "Thanks, Jacob", she thanked her older brother, who sat on his seat focused on his food. He nodded at her.
With a bright smile, she placed her dish in the sink, beginning to wash it. Rinsing her dish, she picked up the only other unclean utensils next to the sink.
The knife.
Washing it rapidly, so to be on her way to school, she froze. With the cold tap water running over the stainless steel blade, it sparkled in her eyes.
Her pupils depleted, as her eyes slowly traced the edge of the knife. With the sound of her surrounding muting, she gingerly rose the knife up to her eye level.
Her fingers gracefully grazed over the blade. Light faint whispers began to run in the invisible wind around her. Her eyes continued to digest the sight of the blade. Her senses were slowly numbing.
She stared at the knife like a priceless gem. Her skin began to itch for a weird sensation. The sensation of the sharp blade running across her tender wrist.
She began to trail the knife with her fingers.
"Del!" The knife slipped out her fingers into the sink. She spun around, "Yes Jacob?"
Her older brother walked forward, placing his dish on the sink then looked at her. He pulled out something from his pocket, pushing it out to his sister.
"This is your five thousand for the week". Accepting it respectfully with both hands, she nodded. He gently patted her head with a straight face and walked back into the living room.
Delia remained still for a short moment, then looked over her shoulder to the knife in the sink. A very faint petit whispered brisked past her ear. She inhaled deeply, shutting her eyes.
She calmed herself down and then walked out of the kitchen.
• • •
With the hot sun rays descending mercilessly upon the surface, Delia and her friends stood still under a small shed, waiting on their lunch.
"Here", the saleswoman handed their takeaway in a polythene. "Thank you", Eboh bowed. "Where should we sit to enjoy our lunch?", Eboh asked the rest.
"Class?" Beatrice suggested.
With a nod, they all agreed. They began to step forward, then halted. "Del!"
"Huh!?" She rose her head off her phone. "What are you doing? Let's go!" Yusuf said.
"I'm coming, I want to find the right music for our journey. Go. Go. I'm coming".
"Ya not serious", Beatrice shook her head.
With Delia still under the shed, the three began to walk forward, crossing the road to enter the nearest department building.
Delia kept scrolling through, taking slow steps forward into the road. Finally, she selected the right song, always halfway across the road. With her headphones blocking the sounds around her, she failed to notice the approaching car at her right.
Her friends had already gone into the building, failing to see her. The zooming black tinted car pulled its brakes.
"Jesus Christ!" She shouted, pushing herself backward so as not to have an impact with the car. "Oh! Shet! Sorry", she immediately apologized, taking a step back.
"Sorry!!" She said once more, walking briskly away from the car's front. Being fully aware it was her fault and carelessness, she waved at the car once more, walking away.
• • •
With the car still at a halt, the driver—white man—remained facially calm, staring at the almost empty road. He was internally pissed and stressed.
"Are you okay, master?" He asked, subtly turning his head. The man at the back seat kept his legs crossed and his head up. He carefully pushed up his glasses on his face, looking at the windshield.
"Is that a girl or a boy?" He asked, with his eyes still trailing after the 'girl' with lowcut and boyish dressing, walk up to a building's entrance. Dilen narrowed his eyes at her.
"Um... Not sure master. I think it's a girl?" The driver being still unsure, guesses it was a girl, given her hips shape. With Dilen eyes still on her, he was able to make out the prominent curves on her chest, and the shape of her hips.
But her big headphones blocked the side of her face.
"Hm. It's a girl", he whispered to himself.
"What sir!?" The driver pushed his head back to hear better.
"I said drive, Robert", Dilen retorted.
"Yes sir!" Robert smashed the accelerator, moving the car at a swift speed.
• • •
Pulling over the vehicle in front of the Senate building; the university's administration building, Robert jumped out of the car, reaching his master's side. He pulled the door open, bowing at him.
Dilen majestically walked out, straightening his tux. He stepped forward, having Robert pull open an umbrella. Robert followed his master with an umbrella over his master's head, protecting him from the foreign sun.
Dilen made his way to the entrance of the building, blocked by security men and women seated on chairs. With his hands in his pocket, he kept a serene look.
One stretched out his hand, blocking Dilen's path. "Yes? What are you here for?" Asked the security man.
Dilen rose his brows the man who had the minute audacity to block his path. A part of him looked at the security man's arm like a weed that needed to be pulled out from the field—Immediately; through the most painful ways possible.
Masking his ill thoughts, he presented a soft innocent smile. "I came to meet--".
"Dilen Liam!" A voice shouted from behind the security guards. They turned around.
A Hausa man, dressed in a native attire walk out of the building and up to them.
"Shift!" He ordered the security guards, making them give way for Dilen. Dilen continued to hold up his smile.
"Dilen, my boy!" The man greeted, pushing out a handshake. Dilen's eyes lazily scanned the man's hand like a piece of filth in front of him.
He kept out the smile, shaking his hand, internally being disgusted.
"Muhammad Usman", Dilen gave a subtle bow. Usman didn't notice. "Ah! I see that is how you Americans greet your elders? Just be calling our names like we're your age mates!" Usman said in a humorous tone as if it was a joke.
Little did he know that his statement didn't sit well in Dilen's heart. And he wasn't going to let it go of it so easily.
Separating their hands, Usman continued, "I've been waiting for your arrival ever since your father called me. He and I use to be good friends, you know?"
'And how is that my business?'. Dilen not wanting to let out his true reaction to the man's words said, "Yes. He told me a lot about you".
"Wonderful!"
"How was your stay at one of our famous hotels?" Usman asked.
Dilen nodded, "Good".
"Good!" Usman smiled, "Let me take you to your new house! Your father told me to get you one of the best while you stay here. After all, we can't have you come all the way from American and suffer abi!?" Usman laughed at his own words like there was a hidden joke.
Dilen remained smiling like a robot. "Let's go!" Usman motioned him to the car lot.