Nine

The blinking lights of an ambulance and its siren, the faces of the nurses who traverse the stretcher to the theatre where a florescent hover me.

I can't blink, talk more of raising my hand to shield the blinding light.

I sleep.

I sleep for two years.

****

It is three a.m but I am far from sleeping as my mind works like a watch, whirling in every direction. Despite Dad's warning, I am seconds away from getting off the bed and nibbling to the visitor's room where Itika is sleeping with his mom. I doubt he is sleeping. He confirms my doubt by opening my door to protrude his head. His eyes lock with mine and it says, I have missed you.

His hands are up as though surrendering and as innocent as his smile seems, it plants dread in my mind. I turn under the duvet I hold to my neck and face the wall.

"Can we talk?"

"My dad said you shouldn't come close to me."

"I mean no harm."

"Yes, you do. Why will I want to talk to you?" I say, even though it is all I wanted since I saw him yesterday.

"I told you... I was... I am sick."

About sixty-four hours ago, I had no memory of his existence and now his presence is nostalgic.

"I can not stop thinking about what you did." Saying it alone refreshes my memory.

His weight gently sinks on the bed but I do not turn. Not even after he places a hand on my shoulder.

"I know. I am sorry. I am sorry."

"But why would you do something like that?"

"I am... I am diagnosed with schizophrenia. Sometimes, I am not in control of myself. But the drugs helps suppress it. But Zere, believe me, I thought I could do it without the drug. I really believed." He gently squeezes my arm and I squirm under his touch. "I have not missed my dose since that day. I didn't mean to harm you. I really didn't mean... I swear."

I finally crane. Tears do not only weave his voice, it also stains his cheeks too, and seeing it stream down forces tears around my eyes.

"Schizo..."

"Schizophrenia." He fills in.

My two years of comma-sleep and one-year memory loss suddenly feel insignificant.

I am speechless but there are nonverbal words in my eyes.

"I know. I am a freak. I know."

"No... No... You are not." I sit up and prop on the head of the bed. "You are not."

"I know I am. You don't need to sympathize. I am just asking you to forgive me. Please." He flicks the side of his nose with a birthmark but does not attempt to wipe the tears on his cheeks.

"That is all I want, your forgiveness."

Words are as heavy as a rock, so I am unable to roll them off my tongue. He transfers to his knees and clasps his hands before his face. "Please."

"Itika, stop begging. Please..." It was all he did yesterday after I saw him and regained my memory.

Chimdi walks in, sees Itika on his knees, then seeks permission for her next action with her look. She indecisively leaves when I nod and mouth, 'It is okay.'

She will probably stand behind the door, ready to burst through at my slightest inconvenience.

My gaze returns to Itika when the door closes behind Chimdi. The tears rimming my eyes roll down.

"Please. I am truly..."

"Stop. Stop. Stop. To be honest, I am not angry... I am just..." because there are no words to express how I feel, I trail off. "Just stand. Stand."

He sits next to me and we share silence.

"I didn't stop thinking about you. Not for once. And I would have been on a plane earlier if your dad had agreed."

I wouldn't say I thought about him because he was beyond the grasp of my mind but there was a facade that kept flashing through my mind and now I see his face, I know it is his.

"I am leaving tomorrow... Sorry... Today." He looks at the digital clock on my nightstand.

"Today? I had no idea. Why?"

"My mum doesn't want to stay. And I am not sure your dad doesn't want me here."

"But..." the words form but like smoke, it disperses. "So, you are going back to Nigeria?"

He nods. "I am glad I was able to help."

"Help?"

"Sorry..." he says and apologizes for it. "Sorry."

"My dad should not see you here," I warn because of his raised tone.

"Scary man." he continues his whisper.

"Not to me."

"Of Course. He is your dad."

"Is your mother scary?"

He chuckles.

I do not realize my smile until he points it out and says, "Your smile never left my head. It kept replaying each time I close my eyes."

Such irony.

"Why are you not scared of me?"

"Why? Should I be?" I adjust to properly observe his face. "Are you taking your drugs?"

"Yes. Yes," he says, "I am...Just... After... Everything...your calmness scares me."

"My calmness?"

"Yes. Why do I have the feeling you want to kill me?"

"Kill you? You are not serious?"

"I deserve it. I really do."

We share another silence.

"I should leave, I just came to say goodbye."

"Don't go... Yet. Or go, please."

"Do you want me to go or not?"

Dad walks through the door. He halts when he sees Itika.

"What are you doing here?" His index is pointing at Itika. "I thought I made it clear that you shouldn't be anywhere near her?"

"Dad it is okay." I chip in.

"No. It is not. Keep quiet!"

"I mean no harm, sir." Itika stands and I watch the dented mattress rise.

"Just leave!" The finger pointing at Itika moves to the door. "Leave!"

"Good night... Goodbye." Itika says and hurriedly makes for the door.

He would be on a flight to Nigeria in a few hours.

D E S I R E S