Now, I don't exactly know what sound a mop makes. But Eze on the other hand, certainly does. He's been at it for roughly an hour now. But the question remains: how did we end up in this situation? But how did we get here?
"Next time, you won't sleep the entire day. Rubbish and Nonsense," Sister Ulu would remark as she passed by him, shaking her head
This was simply the consequence of "his" actions.
He maintained a stern expression as if he were suppressing something. But deep down in his mind...
But meanwhile in the depths of his consciousness...
"Adi, your pace is dropping o." The Spider observed subtly.
"I hope you know that all of this is your fault. I thought that you'd be able to know the time or something. Why did your stupid dream training take up the whole day?"
"I do not have to explain that."
"Of course, you don't" Eze grumbled.
"You missed a spot. Go back."
He carried on for 10 more minutes before he had contact with human life again. Barely. As That was until Bolu made his entrance, walking deliberately over the freshly mopped floor with a flat-footed pace that left smudges in his wake.
At first, Eze paused. He stood there for a moment, his grip on the mop loosening. After a deep breath, he tried to continue his work, but Bolu's careless strides only made things worse. He abruptly reached out and grabbed Bolu by the collar, yanking him back with a strong yank.
"Can't you see that I'm mopping?"
"Weird how I get a headache just by looking at you, isn't it?" Bolu replied, rubbing his forehead as if it were sore.
Eze winced. He knew where they had come from. He let go of him.
"It's like you needed my attention again. What do you want o?"
"I want to know why you're sleeping so much, Eze."
He hesitated. He thought back to the time when he had first escaped the orphanage, cloaked in the strange power of invisibility. It was an escape of fear and adrenaline, but one thing remained crystal clear: the feeling of being constantly watched.
The sense of surveillance had been relentless, a gnawing presence that refused to let him rest. He recalled the paranoia that plagued him, convinced that eyes were always upon him, scrutinizing his every move. Then, he thought back to when Bolu was looking at him directly, despite everything.
"I don't have an answer for you," Eze finally said.
"Mmm. Ok then. Enjoy your mopping," Bolu replied nonchalantly, turning away with a smirk. He continued to walk over the freshly cleaned floor, his footsteps leaving fresh smudges and undoing some hard work.
As Bolu scampered off, Eze turned his attention inward, addressing the spider that lingered in his mind. "Did you really have to give Bolu a headache?"
"I would not take that if I were you," The Spider's voice advised coolly in his head.
"If you were me, he'd be dead," Eze retorted, his frustration palpable.
"Precisely," The Spider agreed.
And so, he continued to mop.
Now, if you haven't been paying close attention, it's worth noting that this orphanage is quite vast. Its sheer size meant that Eze's mopping duties were extensive. Besides the long, winding hallways that seemed to stretch on forever, he was also responsible for cleaning each individual room.
Eventually, his mopping journey took him to Joyce's room.
He stepped into Joyce's room and immediately noticed something odd—a large collection of sticks neatly bundled, as if prepared for kindling. The bundles were stacked against the wall, giving the room an unusual, rustic feel. Aside from that, the only thing that stood out in the otherwise average orphan room was a small picture of an owl, carefully placed beside her bed, almost watching over the room.
"I do not like this one Eze." the Spider said.
Midway through the mopping, the door swung open with a sudden burst. Joyce entered the room, her face lighting up with a warm smile as she saw him. She seemed genuinely pleased by his presence.
"Oh, it's you, Eze," Joyce said, her voice bright and welcoming. She quickly moved toward the drawer beside her bed, pulling it open with an eager haste. Her hands darted through its contents until she emerged with a small bar of chocolate. With a generous smile, she extended the treat toward him. "Chocolate?" she offered, her eyes twinkling with a friendly gesture.
Delightfully, he accepted, storing it in his pocket.
"I didn't think of you as a big sleeper, Eze," Joyce remarked, as she watched him work.
"Me? Oh, well… I guess the last few days have been tough on all of us?" Eze replied, his voice carrying a semi-forced hint of fatigue.
"Yeah, I guess. I wish they would let us go already,"
"Out of the orphanage? What difference would it make for you?" Eze asked. "You don't even talk much at school."
"Don't start your own," Joyce scolded, with a deep, almost threatening voice.
Eze chuckled nervously. "Maybe when Mr. Okafor comes back, they'll let us go,"
"I hope so," Joyce agreed, her expression thoughtful.
Then she laid flat on her bed, simply observing Eze as he continued his eternal purgatory that was mopping.