The cathedral felt cold and desolate. I could feel penetrating gazes at the back of my head, trailing to my family beside me, my guess was that those gazes were dipped in pity.
I still couldn't believe that Toby was dead. Toby did not belong there on the altar lying cold in a golden carved box with cotton stuffed in his nose and ears;he belonged to sitting by my window with me, watching Mama's garden or sketching breath taking drawings with his golden pencil or hearing the chirping birds sing .
My eyes were stinging with tears threatening to fall but I knew better because of my father's cold aura. I instinctively tore my gaze from the altar mama who looked pale and papa who held junior so tight that I thought that Junior's wrist will snap into two.
Papa's face was rigid and his jaws ticking and tightening like silent minute hand of the clock, his eyes held paranoid confidence as he held junior. My eyes trailed to the pews at the left rows in the cathedral where Toby's best friends sat. Leonard and Remi sat quietly but Leo's gaze met mine as if to bore into me but I quickly averted my gaze totally evading Michael's cold presence like a plague.
No matter how much I thought about it, Toby's death was a mystery I needed to unearth. It seemed like Toby was an invisible bond in my family and when he was gone, every single facade or pretense crumpled and shattered, dragging us out of our perfect illusions. I vividly recalled Mama's distinct yells and papa's imposing arguments, glasses shattering and cries erupting, bruises and ensnaring chilly silence.
But I would never forget the very beginning of our acrimony and Nemesis. It began by the first bloom. My mind drifts back to that day as the priest donned in his holy apparel says a prayer over Toby's body and the choir erupts into singing the "abide with me" hymn which I once loved, it sounds bland yet blaring to me now compared to the vivid memories that played with serenity and peace still in my head. I felt it was sinful and hypocritical to say 'rest in peace' to Toby but ironically, I found my self mutter it as tears flooded my eyes;I owed him that much. I stayed stiff till the burial ceremony was over and Toby was lowered in the grave and put to rest.
As David drove us back to our home in Lagos after our flight back from our village, I couldn't help but reminisced the first bloom...
Author's note: Hey lovelies, how y'all doing? Thanks for clicking on this novel, means a lot to me. This is gonna be my first Nigerian based novel and it gives me jitters, I've been writing Western based novels though not on this app but am hoping this works out. Don't forget to leave a like and a comment, tell me what you think. And y'all no negative comments please, you are free to criticize tho, corrections will be noted. ILY all so much 😍.
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