And Then There Was Silence

Img Src: Shutterstock

I jumped into the house and noticed lights were still on. Startled, I stopped in my tracks; then heard a strange voice, a voice that would have passed me had I failed to concentrate more. It was accompanied by some soft breathing. And the laughter that followed was done in bits. I could tell the voices were two after some minutes; one was a bit shrill. Something I could not fathom took control of me and kept pushing me forward.

Instead, I did the most unbelievable performance. I turned the way I came, slowly reached for the door, opened it and slammed it loudly to tell whoever it was to just own up. That I was finally there and games were to be placed aside. Something still pushed me forward and I was finding it difficult to stop myself when I heard rushing feet and pushing of a bed. And then there was silence. The misguided silence, the optimistic silence but silence nevertheless. I considered the person in the inner room was harmless. I remembered the lights that I found on while coming, then called Hamisi just for the sake of it. Though I was not sure, I called his name all the same because it was the only word that came from my mouth when I opened it. No response. I called it louder then heard a response that puzzled me. The yes sounded like he was frightened, like responding was something really painful to do. He hummed a loud yawn probably to cover it up. His voice made my fright fade away and walk on.

I walked and pushed the door of the inner room. The first thing that hit me was the big mess. He was seated on one end. I felt the little tranquillity that filled my air shatter. And then there was silence. We elapsed in this shocked silence; the silence that echoed in my head, the silence that unsettled me. I played with words on my mind to come up with something better. I could hear my own mind voice break with emotion. The mind voice that used to be clear was clouded with fury. The harder I tried, the words dried up. When I opened my mouth to say them, my mouth went dry. I wondered if all the happenings existed solely in my imagination.

Hamisi looked nervous. He was wearing an eager expression that he had pasted on his face. The numbing terror almost broke him down. I presume the shock of the unexpected had reached his bladder and burst it. To my horror, he wet himself. I maintained my icy gaze on him, a way to make guilty people like him talk. Witnessing his pathetic display, he tried to mumble words which I could not pick. His state of helplessness was evident.

The bed moved slightly yet he was not on it! This made my wide staring eyes move from him to the bed and to him again. We exchanged embarrassing looks. I looked away because he was the last person I wanted to see. My gaze landed on the wall picture. Cyprus. And it hit me that it was where I wanted to be that very moment, far away from him. I could feel my tears roll. I wanted to remove words from my chest, hurl words at him right away but I managed to keep my mouth still. Anger took shape and defined itself in my thoughts, my heart, my head and my eyes.

He lowered his head. The almost whisper of a voice followed, “Sorry”. It was the pretentious sorry that got into me. He had a way of spinning outrageous lies. I knew the point we had reached, there was no way of putting things right. But all the same he lied. Of all the people in the world he lied to me. I could tell with the strangeness of his voice that he was lying.

“How could you?” I gasped a painful remark. It could have been a shout if I was not breathless with fury. My fiery temper spiralled uncontrollably. One awful image began to play after another.

Then a woman emerged from beneath the bed. That moment felt awkward.  Dusting herself, she gave me that did-I-do-something-wrong look. Before she could explain what she was doing under the bed he jumped in, “Not exactly as you think.”

I waited for her to say how sorry she was so I could yell at her. She did not. But instead she quickly took the drink on the table and splashed on my dress. I tried not to think about the damage left to the only dress I owned. All I knew was I let out every sound I had mentioning any word I could think of her.

Hamisi gave her a sympathetic look as if to say, don’t mind her, she just seems a little –I don’t know. It was clear that they were united in my hatred; they will eventually form code words to reveal how laughable I was.


What do you think?

Written by Emily Achieng

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

A Story, Part 3 – Levitation

This Thing Called Love