Had to rewrite 5b again. Trashed it by mistake.
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I’m jogging on a bridge around 2am because I couldn’t sleep. It started off as just an ordinary walk but then it became a jog. I should be whipped for this but sadly, no one really cares. No one has cared for a long time. Besides, at this time, I don’t have to jog with the fear of traffic shadowing me. You never know the worth of something until you lose it.
I went to see the doctor earlier today. It’s been so long since I last went. I don’t even know why I did today. Words like swords were being thrown across the room. Selective mutism, traumatic, psychological, PTSD, selective mutism. It got to a point where I had to remind the team of doctors that I was in the room. They were looking at me like some kind of freak show. It was almost pitiful. Even to me. Few years ago, when I had gone in for check up, some words had been used. They advised me to go to therapy; that I needed to unlock my mind. I humoured them for a while but then I stopped. There was no reason for me to keep subjecting myself to it but now… Now, there is still no reason. I convince myself. Not like I would want to impress her. I keep the pace as I wonder why I chose such a bad night to go out walking. It is raining cat and dog. The ocean is roaring. The person I see hunched far away staring into the ocean isn’t helping matters. It looks like a thief or maybe some extra terrestial being I don’t want to examine in my mind. I cross to the other side of the road to avoid him. Or her? Her. I realise as I get closer. I look at the time as I pass her. 1:31am. I really should be whipped. I stop a few feet ahead of her and turn to look. She is wearing a shirt and jean like her. She is totally drenched like me but not trying to get in from the rain like me. Even her stature is like hers. Which reminds me, I haven’t seen her since she entered that man’s apartment. I remember her beautiful smile… I’m jolted out of my reverie by the sight in front of me. The lady is putting her leg over the railing barring the bridge. What?! Am I about to watch a person attempt suicide? Attempt because I won’t allow its actualization. I run across the road and grab her firmly, arms locked by her side. It’s unbelievable she didn’t hear me pass her or lunge for her. She must have been really engrossed in her thoughts or problems. Well, whatever they are, I’m not going to allow her ‘solution’. She is fighting me but I maintain my hold, firmly. We both wobble but I make sure we hit the ground instead of the ocean. She really throws some mean punches but I subdue them easily. When she is tired, she lays unmovingly on the bridge. I release her gently when I’m sure the fight has left her and raise my hands gently in the universal gesture of I’m not trying to hurt you. That’s when I see her face. My nemesis. Why am I always finding myself around her? It’s not enough that my mind is wrapped around her but my body has to? She looks at me calmly, her lips unmoving, her eyes dead. I grab her and carry her home. When Sam sees her, he raises his brow but doesn’t say anything. He just holds the door open while I enter. I carry her up the stairs into my room and lay her gently on the bed, her head on the pillow. She watches me as I pull my shirt off and toss it to Sam who catches it deftly then her eyes move away, studiously fixed when she sees I noticed her. Soon, Sam is back with Vodka which I force into her quivering hands. She grabs it with both hands and places it between her lips, draining its content. She passes the cup back to me as soon as she is done and makes to leave. I’m shocked that she thinks I would leave her to be by herself. So, I grab her upper arm, effectively stopping her. I’m towering above her and I’m slammed by her facial similarities to Ella. Ella was older though… For a split second, I could see fear on her face. I want to reassure her that I would never harm her but can’t. I have never felt more frustrated in all of my twenty four years. I look into her eyes and for the life of me, can feel all the pain I see there. What has she been going through that would warrant such an in-depth pain? Or suicide? I want to erase everything. I just hope it is not her jerk of a boyfriend again. I want to comfort her but I don’t know how. Same features, just older. It occurs to me again. Suddenly, she hugs me.
Olumide spoke with Fola for so long yesterday night after his mother stormed out. Even if his marriage was in shambles, he still got Fola out of it. At first, he thought the boy was dumb because Fareedah said he hadn’t said his first word as at that time, at four. He employed the best doctors he could hire and he started getting results immediately. Now, his son was speaking so much that he had to tease him that he was going to become a lawyer but Fola totally refused and said he was going to be like his father, Olumide. Fareedah snatched the phone from Fola as soon as she heard this.
“He needs to sleep. It is past his bedtime.” She said into the phone.
“Faree-” Olumide started to say.
“Are you still coming tomorrow?” Fareedah asked cutting him short.
“Yes.” He replied.
“Good. See you then.” She said and hung up.
Olumide was glad that he was developing some form of relationship with his son. He slept well that night and woke up in a very happy mood.
He had such great plans for Afolabi.