Eighteen O' Five {ONGOING}🇳🇬

•~~Prologue~~•

I raised one of my my wrists to my eyes and stared at the cracked surface of my wristwatch through teary eyes.
It was a only a few minutes after nine and at this time, I knew everyone would still be at the king's palace, dancing and celebrating the Onire festival while eating as many stewed meats as they possibly could.
I could almost see the old men and supposed wise elders of our small village as they emptied kegs of palm wine into their bulging bellies and yelled in merriment while horsemen rode their horses through the village streets, fooling their amazed audience into giving up their money with their old tricks.
This was the definition of a fun time in my small village and I would''t have minded joining in myself. But unlike everyone else, I couldn't be there.
Especially not while my white danṣiki was soaked completely in someone else's blood.
My cheeks and palms, like a toddler in a paint-class, had also been smeared with red. I would have looked no different from one of butchers at the village market if I hadn't had those party shoes on.
The fear of being seen in that horrendous state at such late hours of the night filled my mind, and without being hounded, I took to my heels out of the dark woods, my heart pounding at an alarming pace all the way home.
I burst through the front door of my house and slammed the door shut immediately after. Gasping for breath and unable to support my frame on my quaky legs, I pressed my back against the brown wooden door and dropped unceremoniously to the ground.

Gruesome images of the things I'd seen in those woods flashed through my mind over and over again like a sick video clip on repeat and my shoulders shook in terror.
What have I done?
It wasn't supposed to go down this way. This wasn't how I had planned the night to happen. For a moment, I became pissed at myself for letting this to play out the way it had but soon, the fear of the consequences took over.
Eventually, I realized that if I was to stand a chance at getting myself out of this mess, I needed to calm down. Freaking out was not going to get me anywhere.
I focused on my breathing, and slowly, it went back to normal. Well, at least my heart didn't seem like it was going to explode anytime soon anymore. With the back of my hand, I tried to wipe the tears away but only succeeded at smearing the blood all over my face and making the mess even worse. I sighed and rubbed my hands on my jeans before trying again then pulling off my shoes as I climbed to my feet.

Now, I needed to think of a plan of action.
There was only one person I could think of that could help me with the mess I had found myself in. She was the one person that would understand and not judge me immediately like most probably would.
On light feet, I made my way to my twin sister's room wondering if she had fallen asleep already. She'd chosen stay behind while I'd gone for the festival with the excuse that she had an upset stomach but I knew that she just didn't enjoy events like this.
Not bothering to knock, I turned the doorknob and walked into her room, shutting it behind me. My sister jerked up from her position on the bed at my sudden arrival and reached for a wrapper to cover her barely decent self, all the while glaring at me through narrowed eyes.

"Mister man! Learn how to kn-," she began to scold me but when her eyes took in my ghastly appearance and widened in shock, I never heard the rest of what she had intended to say.
"Oh my God!"
"It's not as bad as you think it is," I began to explain hoping to calm her down lest she attracted unwanted attention from unwelcome neighbours. "It's not my blood."

"It's not your blood?!" She shrieked hysterically.

I took in deep breaths in an attempt to calm myself once again while my fingers tapped feverishly on the sides of my thighs; she was making me feel anxious too.

"Olamipo, please stop shouting. I need your help," I pleaded and thankfully, something in my voice made her drag her eyes from my bloodied torso to my agitated face.
"Okay." Her voice was so low that I barely heard it but it was enough for me.

"Thank you."
"What happened to you?" She almost whispered in a strong attempt at keeping calm.
With no words, tongue-tied, and disconcerted, I stood still in front of her, still in shock from what happened. Despite the effort I made to stay calm, my body forsook me and it began to quiver again, my shaky hands clutching at my head. The tears, I couldn't help either.
My reactions obviously worried Olamipo even further. She held me tightly by my shoulders and shook me gently to win my attention.
"Mide. Calm down. Tell me what happened to you at the festival," she said. "Did you fight someone?"
"I didn't do it. I didn't do it. It wasn't me." My voice cracked, deep sobs threatening to overcome me. Were my words as true as I hoped they were?
Olamipo was struggling to stay calm as I could feel her hands tremble as she gripped my shoulders firmly. "You didn't do what? Talk to me."
As I opened my mouth to speak, the bathroom door creaked open and the last person I wished to be present stepped out.
It was Dorcas, my sister's best friend. Why was she there?
I froze in panic as I watched her gasp and her eyes widen as she took in my bloodied appearance.
"Oh, my God! What the heck, Mide? Why are you covered in-?"
"Shut up! Don't be so loud!" I yelled.
I couldn't help myself.
My sister's best friend's reactions were always a nuisance as her mouth never ceased to pass on what her eyes had seen. I wouldn't dare gamble to say a word while Dorcas was still here.
"What's she doing here?" I asked Olamipo in a hushed yet annoyed voice.
"She came over for our planned Girl's Night. But I could tell her to leave now if you want," she replied in an equally low voice before turning to face her shell-shocked friend.
"Dorcas. I'm really sorry but you have to leave. Like now."

"Wha- Why na?" Dorcas seemed to snap out of her shock as she turned to face my sister. "This wasn't our plan na."
It was too obvious that Dorcas was very keen on finding out what exactly was going on, she was a regular source of gossip in their village.
Olamipo felt no need to exchange words so she simply helped with her night bag then piloted her out of the house. And to no one's surprise, she resisted and nagged to know all about what had happened to me and the state of my clothes.
By the time my twin sister returned to the room after making sure Dorcas was gone, I had already placed the room several times in worry of what Dorcas might tell everyone tomorrow before I finally settled in one of the plastic chairs at the corner of her room.
Luckily, some of the tension I'd been unable to let go of had already mitigated while I placed the room and tired myself out but the flashes of gruesome images in my head wouldn't stop.
Olamipo dragged another plastic chair from the same corner and sat in front of me after pouring me a cold glass of water that I gulped down in seconds.
"Mide, calm down now and please tell me what happened to you. Did you fight someone at the festival?" she pleaded and placed her warm hands on mine, her face clouded with worry.
A pang of confidence hit me and I began to speak when thoughts of how messy it would be for me if my dad ever found out shut me up. He had warned me before. So, I begged Olamipo to keep it between us.
"I need you to promise.me that Dad would not find out about any of this..."
"What exactly do you want me to not know about?"
The voice that filtered through the door sent shivers down my spine and made us both to freeze, our eyes trained on the door Olamipo had forgotten to shut where a man in his late forties stood, arms tightly crossed, with a deep frown on his face.
It was Dad.

- - -

'Danṣiki'- A traditional male dress.