Caught In the Storm – Chapter Three

7:55am

Dark gloomy clouds had sabotaged Dawn’s golden entrance. The sky had become a carpet of grey, broken only by thin cracks of silver and white. Drops of rain hurled themselves against glass windows, accompanied by the murmuring sounds of thunder echoing across the quiet neigbourhood. Laziness rode on the cool howling winds, declaring war on the sheer will of people who planned on having a productive day. Some had no reason to get up early, seeing it was another Saturday.

Sonia clung to the comfort of the dark bedroom, tunneling herself deeper into the thick duvet covers. The peaceful embers of sleep had begun to elude her, despite her will to stay in bed. After minutes of twisting and turning, her eyes finally let in the little light that was in the room. She let out a soft groan and tried to push herself up, but weakness held her joints captive.

Letting out another irritated grunt, she slowly rolled to the edge of the King-sized bed in a bid to get off. Dropping one leg gently to the ground, she heard the tell-tale clinks of many bottles echoing as they hit the ground. Memories of the previous night flooded her mind, reminding her of why she had wanted to get drunk. As soon as she dropped the other leg and sat up, the full effect of the hangover leaped on her.

She felt like someone suddenly bashed her head with an axe, attempting to split her skull in two. She muttered a cuss word as she gently buried her head in her hands, softly massaging her temples in order to appease the headache.

“I was wondering when you’d get up,” a voice said from the entrance.

Sonia turned her head slowly, squinting in the direction of the voice. The headache got worse the more she focused, forcing her to drop her head down again.

“I brought you some orange juice,” Monique said as she walked in. She moved towards the desk by the window and placed the glass gently on the table.

Sonia grunted an incoherent ‘thank you’, but still maintained her posture. Her throat was parched, and her mouth tasted like bitter herbs. Monique shook her head at the sad sight, softly pulling open the window blinds.

Sonia groaned slightly, raising her arms to shield her eyes from the dim light.

“Damn, you look like crap…” Monique muttered as she looked at her friend. “…and you smell like it too…”

Sonia raised her heavy eyelids and glared at her friend, slightly irritated by her unnecessary commentary.

Suddenly, the sick feeling of nausea erupted from her stomach, speeding towards her mouth. Struggling to force it down, she got up and stumbled towards the toilet in a frenzy with Monique following closely behind.

Lurching forward, she sunk to her knees, burying her head into the toilet bowl. She spewed her insides out, coughing and choking while Monique held her messy hair up. Her stomach kept contracting violently, forcing everything up and out. Minutes passed and she continued to retch. even when there was nothing left to spew.

“Easy, babe. Easy. You’ll be alright,” Monique comforted, softly patting her on the back.

Moments later, Sonia washed her face and stumbled towards the bed while holding her head. The throbbing headache had become mild, but her mouth still tasted like bile. She was more conscious now, looking across the large room. She saw her boots from the previous night, each one lying distant from the other. Her phone was on the floor alongside her mini bag, and quite a number of bottles were littered around. She looked down at what she wore; it was the same outfit that she had worn to her date. Her waist-length hair had tangled into what looked like a bed’s nest.

“I managed to get your boots off, at least.” Monique said quietly as she leaned close to the window, lighting up a cigarette.

“Thanks.” Sonia muttered, still groggy from the ordeal. She was thankful for her friend. Monique was like the sister she never had.

“It’s fine,” she replied coldly. Thick clouds of smoke billowed and eddied around her as she puffed them, her facial expression etched in painful dolor.

Sonia looked at her friend more intently. Something about her friend’s tone felt off to her. Her hunch was confirmed when she saw the tears that glistened Monique’s eyes. Sonia’s senses had been too dull to pick up her friend’s sad mood.

“Are you okay?” Sonia asked, her tone showing concern.

Monique kept gazing out the window, her mind far from what her eyes registered. The rain had gotten more intense, pouring down heavily on the estate. She took another drag of her cigarette, slowly letting the smoke leave her mouth and nostrils.

“Monique?” Sonia called out, furrowing her brows.

Monique sighed softly and shut her eyes, allowing a tear to trail down her cheeks. She lowered her head and bit her lip, struggling to push back her raging emotions.

“It’s nothing. I’m just… so tired, man.” She finally said, her voice softly breaking.

“W-What do you mean, ‘you’re tired’?” Sonia stuttered, clearly confused.

“It means… that I’m freaking tired, Sonia. Life… is freaking tiring.” She said as she puffed out another thick cloud of smoke, her pained gaze boring holes into Sonia’s soul.

“Monique, you’re gonna have to be more specific than that.” Sonia replied.

“The endless drinking? the countless ash trays? Our frequent visits to the bar? Constantly losing at this game of love? All of it.” She said softly, feeling another tear glide down her cheek.

“This… just doesn’t feel real anymore. Our lives… I mean. It just… feels empty.” Monique continued.

Sonia closed her eyes and let out a soft sigh, the truth in her friend’s words knocking wind out of her lungs.

“What does someone have to do to get a happy ending? I mean… after over two decades of living… one would think that we’d have gotten the hang of this thing called life. I mean it just makes me wonder…do we even have a happy ending?” Monique asked, her voice breaking more with each statement.

Sonia’s mouth moved in a bid to reply but no words came out. She slowly dropped her gaze to the floor, as though it had the answers they searched for.

“In case you haven’t noticed, my life has been basically trash. It still is… by the way. I mean, look at me. I should be happy. We… should be happy. We should be at peace. We shouldn’t have to battle for a moment of relief every single day of our lives. We deserve more than this!” She cried, the tears now flowing uncontrollably.

Her words pricked Sonia’s heart, riling up uneasy feelings of irritation and frustration.

“I mean, is it too much to ask? To just have… a little bit of rest? To stop feeling empty and dead inside? To feel loved and held like you’re too precious to let go? Aren’t you tired of all this…”

“Do you think I don’t know all this?! Do you think, for one bloody second, that I don’t feel all this?! Just look at me, Monique! Don’t you think I get it?!” Sonia screamed angrily, cutting her friend off.

A heavy silence fell on the room, with the natural melody of raindrops against surfaces filling the void. The intensity of Sonia’s glare made Monique turn away. She was hurt by her tone.

Suddenly realizing how rash her tone was, Sonia shut her eyes and let out a soft sigh. “Look, all I’m saying is that I don’t have any answers, okay? I wish I did, but I don’t.”

Monique pursed her lips and nodded slowly, quenching the cigarette on an ash tray. She sniffed, slowly wiping her tears off with the sleeves of her pink sweater.

“I’m sorry I went off like that. I didn’t mean to…” Sonia tried to apologise.

“It’s alright. I understand,” Monique replied, cutting her off. She picked up the glass of orange juice and downed everything, wiping the trail of juice from her mouth when she was done.

Feelings of guilt wrestled with Sonia’s gut. She cussed herself out silently for raising her voice.

“Look, we’ll be alright, okay? I don’t know how, but we will be.” Sonia said, trying to sound comforting. Deep down, she hoped Monique believed those words, because she didn’t. Life had sucker-punched her in the gut so many times that there wasn’t any ounce of hope left.

“I’m going to the kitchen, all this crying has made me hungry,” Monique said weakly, carrying the glass and moving towards the door.

Sonia sat there, still drowning in the questions she was asked. The more she pondered, the more she felt the heaviness latch unto her heart. The grave dread of a life without hope renewed its feeling on her. She needed to talk to someone. Her mind searched for a while and finally locked on Aunt Helen. Then it dawned on her, it had been three weeks since she last visited her.

---

Later that day…

Noon arrived but the Sun was still hidden behind the gloomy carpet of grey. The rain had persisted, claiming full rights to the season. It took barely two hours to get to Aunt Helen’s place in Ikoyi. It would’ve taken less if she hadn’t stopped to get some groceries for her.

Sonia remembered when she had gotten the apartment for her aunt. She remembered asking Helen to stay in her house back at the estate. But Helen had refused, never giving her any concrete reasons. Jonathan, her cousin and Helen’s only child, insisted on sending funds from the States to purchase the house for his mum. He wanted to ensure she was comfortable wherever she was.

Sonia hurried unto the front porch and snapped the umbrella shut, sending a horde of raindrops to the ground. Adjusting her clothes, she rang the doorbell while holding the grocery bags. The maid answered the door.

“Ah! Aunty Sonia! Welcome o! E don tey no be small,” Abike exclaimed, her wide smile revealing her peculiar gap tooth.

“Yeah, it’s been a while I know. Here, take these and put them in the kitchen,” Sonia replied warmly, offering her the bags. “I got some things for you too, they’re in there as well.”

“Ah! Se emi le ra fun?! Ese o! Modupe! Thank you o!” Abike rejoiced, breaking into a small dance, her body jiggling along.

Sonia giggled, watching her dance funny. Abike was hired to attend to Helen’s needs after she was diagnosed with hypertensive heart disease few months after they had relocated. Neither Jonathan nor Sonia wanted her stress levels elevated, so they had decided to hire someone that would do virtually everything in the house. Sonia was still unsure of Abike’s age. Her features made her look older, but her childlike spirit argued otherwise.

“Eh, Aunty Sonia, shebi you will eat something na? Let me prepare something for you,” Abike offered, her yoruba accent dripping off each syllable. “I can make Abula for you now now.”

“Um… I’m sorry what’s that?” Sonia asked with an amused look, struggling to take off her boots.

“Ah, you don’t know Abula? Na e be say you never chop correct soup before na. Ah ahn? Gbegiri and Ewedu with small obe ata and all the better orisirisi? Come knack am with better Amala? Come wash am down with chilled palm wine? Ah! See ehn make I tell you… three days like this… you no go wan chop again.” Abike explained dramatically with her funny hand gestures.

“Um… thanks for the offer, but I’m not really hungry at the moment. Just go tell my Aunt that I’m around, okay?” Sonia said in between small laughs. There was no way she was eating whatever food Abike just described. The maid nodded and hurried into the house.

Sonia made her way through the small lobby into the living room, soaking in the warmth of the dark hallway. Sinking her hands into the pockets of her hoodie, she gave the living room a cursory glance.

It looked just like a magazine cover, having white linen curtains; the kind that was devoid of dust, and untouched for fear of staining it. She admired the room for a bit; the dark coloured sofas, the artificial flowers in tall vases kept at the corners of the room, the small bookshelf that held all kinds of book genres. The airy scent of lavender seeped into her nose, leaving her with a nostalgic feeling. She felt at home, like it was twenty years ago again.

She turned to see the photo frames on the TV cabinet. She smiled at the picture of Jonathan in his military uniform, saluting with his usual one-sided smile. He was the brother she never had, and the one she could never replace. Still on active duty, he was unable to relocate to Nigeria with them. Being in the military was his own way of dealing with the tragedy that had plagued them.

As her eyes shifted to the next photo, her heart nearly stopped. Dread ran down her spine in cold waves, causing her eyes to take in more light. An inner quaking began inside her, and breathing suddenly became difficult. She stood there, transfixed like her feet were set in concrete, staring at the image of the worst person anybody could have ever met. The one who ruined everything.

In seconds, her mind pulled out a folder from her memory archives, slotted it into her mind’s eye and hit play. Her body stiffened as her soul was pulled into the black-hole of a flashback. The environment around her blurred away into blackness.

She was fifteen again, kicking and screaming, crying desperately for help. He had her slung over his shoulder as he marched towards the door to the basement. Jonathan followed cautiously from a distance, too frightened to do anything. Her cries pierced his young heart deeply, but the feeling of helplessness had him paralyzed. She saw the bitter tears that rolled from his eyes as he watched her being carried away.

“Dad, please! Let her go, please!” He pleaded, his voice breaking into doleful sobs.

The man kicked the door open and slammed her struggling frame against the wooden steps of the basement. Sonia broke into a silent cry, mouth wide open yet nothing coming forth. Searing pain shot through her entire body, tearing at all her joints. Everywhere hurt.

He kicked her in the face again, sending her tumbling further down the stairs. She rolled down awkwardly, landing face first on the hard floor.

“Today, I’m gonna teach you some manners. I’m going to show you what happens when you disrespect me,” he growled. He shut the door behind him, locking it. Slowly rolling up his sleeves, he marched down the stairs, each step echoing across the ill-lit room.

“Please… I’m sorry,” she had managed to gasp out. Breathing had become difficult. Instinctively, she began to crawl away from him.

“By the time I’m done, you’re going to be.” He said darkly. He approached her, each step more sinister than the other. She braced herself for more punishment, shutting her eyes tightly.

Her body jarred with each blow, pain searing through her delicate skin. His muscular arms recoiled severally, returning often with a force so vicious it sent her crumbling down and gasping for air. She recalled how his angry voice faded into echoes as she lost consciousness.

“Sonia!” A feminine voice screamed, snapping her out of her virtual reality before it could finish.

Sonia blinked back into consciousness, shuddering as she turned to see her aunt staring at her with a worried look.

“I’ve been calling your name for so long. What’s going on with you?” Helen asked anxiously.

Sonia still felt her body quaking, shivering feverishly from the flashback. Looking around frantically, she tried to slow down her breathing. The fear began to fade away, slowly being replaced with simmering rage.

“Um… why would you put his picture… out here?” Sonia asked quietly, refusing to make eye contact.

Helen looked at the picture she was pointing at, and understanding hit her. She heaved a rueful sigh and reached for her niece, but Sonia moved away. Helen could see the simmering rage in her heaving expression, and she didn’t blame her for it.

“Why don’t you have a seat, darling? I can explain-” Helen started.

“Explain what exactly?! Explain why you have the picture of the devil’s spawn in your living room? Have you forgotten what we’ve been through? What I… have been through?! If you need a reminder, look at me! I mean, we have the very scars to prove it!” Sonia screamed in indignation, her angry glare focused on her Aunt.

The elderly woman looked away and pursed her lips, seeking the best words to explain what she wanted to say. Slowly, she made her way towards the nearest sofa and sat down.

Her calmness irritated Sonia the more. Why on earth would she be acting like it wasn’t such a big deal? She watched Aunt Helen raise her head to level her gaze.

“It’s been too many years, Sonia. I… can’t keep up with the hate. The anger… the rage… towards a dead man. It’s caused me nothing but more pain. So, I’ve decided to let go of the past…” She said calmly, her eyes beginning to glisten.

Words left Sonia. Her ears held unto the things they had just heard, searching for the slightest hint of sarcasm but found none. She stared deeply into Helen’s cool brown eyes. The usual pain in them was missing. Sonia’s brain stuttered, trying to figure out what was happening.

“You’re… letting go of the past?” She finally asked, her tone revealing utter confusion. She watched her aunt nod slowly in affirmation.

“I’ve carried him all these years, and all it’s gotten me, is a broken heart… literally. It’s time that I let him go, Sonia.” Helen replied. Her expression held a sense of finality in her decision, like it was a done deal.

Sonia’s anger dissipated, replaced with bewilderment. She sank to a couch nearby, staring into deep space. Let him go? Was that even possible?

“Sonia… baby. I look at you, and I see myself all over again. All the pain and anger I’ve carried for so long, I see them in you. And I don’t want that for you, baby. It would be the saddest thing to see all your youthful years stolen by someone who’s already dead.” Helen said, her voice trembling with emotion.

Sonia’s anger resurfaced. Her eyes began to glisten with tears. Breathing became laborious again. She knew what her aunt was insinuating, and the thought of that made her blood boil.

“All my life, every therapist or shrink, every counsellor, every preacher I’ve met, just expected me to… let it go. Like it’s the easiest thing to do. That it’s been many years… and I should have let it go by now.” She began, her voice trembling. She turned to look at her aunt, staring deeply into her eyes.

“I can’t sleep, Aunt Helen. The moment I shut my eyes, I see him, a million times more terrifying, towering over me. I’ve tried so hard, to be intimate with any man but i can’t, because I feel him when they touch me. I get defensive when they are around me, with good reason.” Sonia began, her expression getting darker with each statement.

Helen felt her chest tighten as the words filtered through her mind, painting nasty illustrations of what was said. She knew exactly what Sonia was talking about. She was there that day.

“He ruined me, Aunt Helen. He took my life from me that day. And you think, that I’m just gonna let it go? Is that what you’re telling me? That I’m going to find peace? Is that it?” Sonia asked, seething through her teeth. Her vision was now completely blurred by tears.

A tear rolled effortlessly down Helen’s eyes, feeling the pain oozing off her niece’s words. She knew this pain all too well. She had carried it around for donkey years. Even when the person responsible was gone, the pain lingered like a parasite, sucking the life out of her. It was only until several months ago that she had started to heal, when she finally made contact with God.

“Understand me, darling. The peace that you need, is not something you can give yourself or get from somewhere. It can only be found in one person alone. And that’s God,” she replied softly.

Sonia let out a painful sarcastic laugh, nodding her head cynically. She was fed up. This visit was a mistake. She wiped off her tears and got up.

“With all due respect, If God really gave a damn about us, I’m sure we’d both know that. Enjoy the groceries.” Sonia said tersely, storming out of the room.

Helen bowed her head, watching her tears hit the tiled floor.

“God, you’ve gotta help her. Sweet Jesus, you’ve gotta help her…” she sobbed.

---

That evening…

David couldn’t feel more exasperated. He’d been on the phone with his mother for over an hour, hearing her nag him about his relationship life. And the worst part was that it didn’t seem like she was done. He slumped on the living room sofa, begging God for her airtime to finish.

“David? This one wey you just dey lock up, abi na rubbish I dey talk so na?” Mrs Okafor asked, seemingly peeved by her son’s silence.

“Ah ahn now, Maalé. I dey hear you,” David replied, trying to sound respectful.

“David Chinedu Ejokparoghene Okafor!” She called out, her delta accent clinging to ever word.

“Ma?” He responded, reeling in his frustration.

“This your marriage matter don take style wear skirt o! You don reach thirty! You wan tell me say for the past six years, say you never see person, ehn? You blind?” She asked, her tone dripping with exasperation.

“Mum, I’m sorry but I’m not ready for a relationship right now,” He tried to explain, his face wrinkling with frustration.

“And I’m telling you that a relationship is ready for you! Abi wetin dey worry this pikin sef? Hei Oghene meh… Abi you want make trumpet sound first?“

“Okay, okay, mummy I promise, I’ll start considering it. I’ll even start praying about it. Don’t worry.” He said, desperate to appease her.

“David?! No follow me play o! You dey hear me so? No follow me play. Make I just leave this matter for now. I go ask you again. Eh hen.. Hope say you dey chop well for there?“

“Yes ma, I’m eating very well. How are Charles and Ebube?” He asked, feeling relieved that she had dropped the subject.

“Them dey sha. They are missing you. Very soon, I’ll let Ebube come over for a while. At least you will have somebody to talk to in that house, since you no wan marry,” she said sardonically.

“Ooh Maalé! Haba na…” David whined, throwing his hands in the air in frustration.

“E shock you? Oya no vex, I’ll leave you,” she said amidst giggles.

Hearing her brightened mood, his countenance softened. “Ah, Okay o… I’ll sha send you something soon ehn? Don’t worry.”

“Ah! Correct! Na my pikin you be,” she laughed gleefully.

“Yes mummy. Ehn let me be going now, I have some work to do,” he replied.

“Oya no wahala, better pray about that thing o! Before you know na you go knack fifty. Oya bye bye.” She said, hurriedly ending the call amidst giggles.

David shook his head amusingly at the last-minute jab and slumped back on the sofa, letting out a heavy sigh. This marriage thing was becoming too much of an issue for him. Was it by force? He didn’t even want to pray about it. He wasn’t ready to open up that way again.

His mind wandered back to his last relationship. It was one year of his life he would have rather donated to a chicken. Pelumi’s words had felt like a chisel, chipping away at his masculinity each time they were together. She never hesitated to dress him in a coat of derogatory words anytime she felt like. Bearing the scars of a toxic relationship, he had sworn never to be vulnerable again. She was the reason why he found it hard to be in a relationship.

But after this call, the real questions started to bother him. Would he really let a bad experience keep him from being with someone? And if he did find someone, wouldn’t the experience of his former relationship ruin it?

The sound of the doorbell interrupted his deep thoughts. He sat up puzzled, wondering who that could possibly be. He wasn’t expecting anyone today, and most people didn’t know his new address yet. Still wondering, the door bell rang again.

Approaching the door, he straightened his white T-shirt and dusted the imaginary dust off his sweatpants. He opened it and his body stiffened.

Wearing a black hoodie and grey sweatpants, Monique stood infront of him, hugging herself because of the cold.

“Hi, um… sorry, did I come at a bad time?” She asked, her tone rather sober.

Normally, David wouldn’t oblige. A strange beautiful girl that hit on him asking to come into his home on a rainy day? That smelt like bad news. But for some reason, he felt the strange leading to invite her in. He felt at peace and went with it.

“Not at all. Please, come in…”

TO BE CONTINUED…

Hey guys❤. I hope this chapter kept you hooked. What are your thoughts concerning all the characters? What do you think of Sonia’s visit? What do you think would happen during Monique’s visit? Let us know in the comment section 👇🏾👇🏾👇🏾👇🏾

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