A boy walked along Kelvin estate back home by 7:00pm. He walked through the living room looking for his parents.
A watch, gold and shiny, was tossed on the glass shelves of the étagère. It was obvious that his parents were home, fast asleep, the car was there and the door had been unlocked.
There was a cup and plates in the sink. They had spilled some soup dirt on the counter and neglected to wipe it up. He removed his school shirt and tossed it on the couch. He was now naked to the waist, with his trousers low and snugs at his hips. One could admire the play of muscles ripping down his arms and across his back.
A flurry of movement and a flash of crimson caught his eyes.
"Who's there?, Mum, dad, Victor?" there was no answer. He continued doing the dishes. Something moved in the bushes. Then something moved in the kitchen. "probably just shadows."
Precious began no fret no doubt as the shadows kept moving, pushing a hand through his thick hair in agitation. His thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of a person outside his house, through the window. He composed himself, moving his hands deliberately to the counter to get his phone. Precious stopped at the touch of someone. For a moment, in silence, his hand lingered there while his eyes travelled the person's masked face. The person had a knife in the left hand.
"No, no no," he stepped back screaming and started to run pushing down cups, plates, spoons, chairs on the floor.
The masked person still met up with him and stabbed him three times at the back. Precious protested, but his mouth was bleeding profusely. The person free away, watching until precious's heavy kids closed.
The bright sun reflected into the room he was, he turned to see his mother asleep beside him in the hospital room.
"Mum," he muttered, but in pains. His mother wakes up at his calling and hugs him.
***********
Matthew stopped his bike at the crest of the school's drive. While other students turned to gaze at the prominent basketball captain. Cutting across the school's lawn, he marched to the front door. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and scowled. He walked inside.
At the corridor, all students gathered in groups. Matthew curtailed the instinctive move to reach for one of the boys and ask what happened. As he turned to leave, a low mechanical him from outside caught his attention. He walked to he window and saw the principal.
"Good morning, students," the principal said.
"Good morning, ma'am." All students chorused
"As you all have heard," the Principal began. "About a student of this school that is being hospitalized. Precious Okorie was attacked last night."
At the mention of the name, other students gasped. Precious Okorie was a senior in his last year. He was tanned, a deep honey gold that glistened with the effort of manual labour. Everyone admired his hard work.
" Let all of us put him in our individual prayers for quick recovery." The principal said dismissing the students to their respective classes.
Why would someone attack Precious Okorie, he thought. It felt strange. The Principal's voice echoed in his ears until he entered his classroom.
Laughter always rang out in the boys' room and no matter where the laughter came from, it bounced around all the walls, all the rooms. Arguments rose quickly and fell just as quickly. Afternoon basketball practice were always coupled with songs, body energetic songs that usually kept them flowing together, in preparation for the inter-schools games.
The basketball court lost its mystique in the light of the day. The coach, the players and other students gathered to watch them play.
Is this how you're going to beat other schools?" coach Ekemini asked. "Or you're going to let them beat you?"
They stood there, staring at their coach, who was speaking rushingly with impetuosity about their weaknesses.
"Patrick, you're not fast enough. Utibe, Utibe, you're losing balance."
Matthew's hands shook as he tried to pass the ball to Simon. He sighted Christopher on a bench reading a book: he couldn't see the name but it was as if he was engrossed with the content.
"Coach, I'm not feeling well, can I take a break?" he lied.
But then, a weird thing happened, just as he ran off the girls' room exploded; the room's windows shattered, they could hear as the light bulbs broke, and the pillow puffed into feathers.
"What the _!" One of the students exclaimed.
**********
The fire service arrived immediately. All students were evacuated from the building; at least no one was injured. All students sat on the verandah, each either with books on the laps or hanging schoolbags full with books.
The head of fire service reported that someone must left the iron plugged in. Meanwhile, no one's allowed to use iron in the school. And the were so many clothes close to where the iron was plugged in. It started with Sparks, then smoke, before the iron exploded. With the clothes near, it was easier for the fire to spread faster. Theresa Moffat the girls' prefect is in charge of the room.
"Theresa Moffat?" the head of fire service called out. Theresa who was seated next to her Michael stayed for a few moments before she raised her hand, and she stood to go, she looked downcast. Instead, she smiled so widely, one could she her dimples.
"Yes." She said quietly.
"We need to ask you a few questions, is that okay?" he asked.
Her face did not brighten. She nodded and followed them into the building.
Christopher got up from the verandah, watching a butterfly dip up and down, and its black-spotted yellow wings flapped slowly, as if teasing him. Theresa was back, seated on the verandah, after the interrogations. He was still watching the butterfly.
Where's Matthew? He thought.
"Where's Matthew Usen?" He asked. Everyone turned to look at each other.
Christopher stared at Theresa, and when their eyes met, he looked away. He knew. He knew that Matthew must have gone back into the girls' room. One half of his lower lip disappeared into his mouth, and his jaw disappeared into his mouth, and his jaw quivered as he chewed.
Some minutes later, Christopher reminded seated hoping to outwait the crowd of students who were stampeding their way to the gate awaiting the arrival of their parents or guardians. When it was all clear, he stood up, waved tiredly at the principal, and other teachers then sneaked to the back of the school building.
It's been an hour and Matthew hadn't reported back from the toilet. Suddenly, he heard yell some words. He turned around in both confusion and curiosity to see who it was. He didn't know what happened. All he remembered was the blow of his skull as something collided with his head and his buttocks hit the floor with a thud.
"Ow!" he groaned as he brought his hand u to his forehead l. He cringed when he felt the cut on his head. Oh no! No! No! Please, don't be blood. I'll vomit. Don't look Chris. I can't stand the sight of blood.
"Damn! Are you okay? Here, let me help you." Matthew came out of nowhere as he held out a hand for him. Christopher placed his hand on his as Matthew pulled him up.
"Thank you." He turned to look at Matthew that helped him.
"I'm sorry about that. I tried to warn you, but it was too late.
Christopher opened his mouth to say something when he was rudely interrupted by a husky voice.
"Hey! Leave the kid and let's go."
Christopher adjusted his head slightly to glare at the person who interrupted him.
He was huge, not simply in a height way. He was tall, taller than Matthew, who stood at a solid 6'0. Muscles that no 17 years old should be capable of possessing on display underneath his green shirt. But he looked much older.
"You're bleeding, Chris." Matthew exclaimed. Christopher gasped as he felt the liquid trail down the side of his head. The liquid fell on the floor, and the next thing he knew, he vomited his insides on Matthew's shoes.
"You_ just," the other person yelled, looking so angry. He looked at Christopher as he had his face scrunched up in disgust.
"Calm down, Jude. You hit him with a ball. That's unsettling." Matthew shot lasers at him with his eyes.
"He vomited on my favourite shoes," he lamented as he walked off. Christopher used the sleeve of his shirt to wipe his mouth and the blood from his forehead.
"I'm so sorry about that." Christopher said.
"It's all good. My brother gets pissed off over little things." At the mention of brother. The last time Matthew made mention of his brother, he told them that his brother was at the University of Delta. Then why is he here?.
Christopher smiled as he shook his head.
" What are you doing in school?" he asked as they rush through the empty halls, the silence soothing his senses.
"nothing," Matthew lied
Jude kept on staring at them. Christopher could feel his eyes bearing holes into his eyes. He gripped his pen tightly. His smile, still on, though fake.
"Fine," he sighed. "We came back to find out who caused the fire explosion." He said as he wiggled his arms.
"What do you mean?" he asked, purely out of curiosity. Maybe, they knew something.
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