Psyche

°Vi . Hostage

So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past
_ John Lennon.

Adekunle Gold was right when he said money don't buy charisma come rain or shine. This was true in the case of Dimeji's family.

They were a tad bit rich. His mum, a nurse and his father, a business conglomerate in the shipping, textile industry even in the entertainment industry- the movie. As realistic as his family sounded, they were the very least of how you would imagine them. Society has reservations, judgments about a rich family. Let's not even get started on the stereotypes.

He was a living and breathing testimony. They appeared all smiles, respect, love and anything you could think of.

Like Jaja in purple hibiscus, Dimeji swore to protect his little sister and shield her from their father's flaws. Every now and then, His father would come home with a new toy pet him on his head pretending to be a good father.

Dimeji's mother work demanded so much from her with peanuts for a salary but she was contented. She hardly asked her husband for money. Her peanuts were sufficient for any of her needs but not the family's need. She hid her husband's status well enough from her workplace.

One night, they were sat at the table- Dimeji, his mum and his dad, his sister, omolara hadn't been born yet. His mother was feeling nauseous and the cook had prepared a sumptuous dinner of grilled chicken, carrot minced sauce, bean cake, white rice and homemade banana smoothie. It was Dimeji's seventh birthday. The banana smoothie irritated her and prickled her skin. Dimeji was the happiest that night, he poked and prodded all the dishes tasting heaven in his mouth. He was still savoring the taste in his mouth when he heard a thud and raised his head from his meal. His mother was on the floor holding her hands to her face, sobbing. She had thrown up and Mr Adekunle had given it to her. He wiped his mouth clean and stood up pointing his fingers at her,

"Everything I work for, it's all for you and Ola. You can't even afford this but you are wasting the one you see. You better stand up and clean that mess. You're a mess anyway". Mr Adekunle said, stroded out of the dining room and hurled at the cook to carry the dishes.

Dimeji's jaw hung open wide. Fear darkened his little heart slowly crawling in till he became the host and it fed on him. It became the beginning of several things to come.

∆∆∆∆

The room was dark. The blinds were tightly shut even though the sun was shining brightly. He made sure to not allow any ray inside. Just darkness. Dimeji felt like this sometimes- in his feelings not wanting to be disturbed by anybody. It was him and Netflix binge watching all the series he had seen several times. Replaying everything including the past without pressing pause.

He was flipping episodes of how to get away with murder, season after season, watching every bit of Annalise, Wes, Connor and his gay self, Michela, Bonnie name them all.

How did he ever miss all these lines, he hadn't seen some parts prolly when he had dozed off and found it still playing when he awoke in the dead of the night.

He heard a light knock on his door and paused the episode. He jumped down his bed and walked to the door, almost coming face to face with the beaming smiles of his mother. She was smiling now and he couldn't help but think of the bruises on his arm, how he wanted to feel something, anything after seeing her bruised eye and swollen cheek. It all stopped when she fainted one day and his father panicked. He had never seen his father so vulnerable that day. The doctor said she was anaemic. When the doctor asked about the bruises, Mr Adekunle told him he had overstayed his welcome. She was in coma for three weeks, waking up to see flowers, loads of them, even the ones she was allergic to and a teary eyed Mr Adekunle pleading and whispering sweet nothings in her ears. She forgave him and here we are.

"Ola, is it just me or is it already evening? Your room is so dark, why?" She opened the door wide and walked into his room, wanting to open the curtain but her husband's voice stopped her. He had suddenly appeared from nowhere. Dimeji's legs stayed rooted to the floor and his tongue had suddenly been cut off. His eyes were vacant. He didn't know what to think. He could not no he would not forget.

"It's okay, Ireti. It's his father's house after all. He can do whatever he likes. Let's go or we will be late for the gala". Mr Adekunle said, gesturing for her to come.

She turned sharply and flashed a smile, "If that's what you want. Dimeji, take care of your sister." Dimeji nodded and bid both of them goodbye. He pushed his back to the door and released the breath he didn't notice he was holding. He closed his eyes and counted levelling his breath, how Irene had thought him to. Not that she knew, he couldn't bring himself to open up to anyone. His phone rang, the ringtone suffocating him till he picked up after the third ring.

Speak of the devil and she shall appear.

"Dimeji, hi!" Irene said from the phone.

"Where art thou being? You are attending to your sister's baby, yeah?" Dimeji paused waiting for her to reply and she didn't for a long moment. The fan hung from the ceiling is the only thing he hears, waiting patiently to hear her but he speaks instead.

"Are you there, Irene?"

Irene spoke up immediately with a crack in her voice, "The baby is dead, Dimeji. Gone. Why should I be attending to her or are we communicating from the spirit world". She said, her voice not breaking.

Dimeji chose his words carefully, "Oh my God, how did it die?"

"It?, Do you hear yourself? It? She was a human being for Christ sake and just because she was a stillbirth doesn't make her less a human. This was a mistake, calling you. Not even you understands."

"Shit! Irene, I said it? I am sorry I didn't mean to. I am so sorry, you know I am not like that. Please don't hang up". Dimeji said raking his hair and holding it tightly. He waited for her to speak and she did.

"It's okay, I have been in my feelings lately. Uncle Kezie just sits at the television and it's not even on. Chika hasn't come out from the nursery ever since we came back. I am practically walking on eggshells here. Nobody is saying a word...but yesterday I heard the door to the nursery open. Maybe, Chika is finally out. I have been in my room only going down when I need to drink." She rambled, pouring it out leaving no time to breathe.

"Don't you eat or is eating considered as drinking now. Enlighten me, dear Irene". Dimeji folded his arms, supporting the phone on his ears with his shoulder and if his guess was right, she would ignore the question.

"This house is choking me but this yoghurt tastes so good as if this isn't what I have been drinking".

"Answer the question, Irene." His tone, rising.

"Dimeji" Irene hesitated, her breathing was loud enough for Dimeji to cringe. "It's coming back, I can feel it. I am losing my appetite. I can't eat anything without throwing it out. It's becoming harder. I feel hot all over. The only think I can take without making me nauseous is Yoghurt". She paused.

"You need to see a doctor, Irene. This is exactly what I said two years back and the next thing was finding you...." Dimeji paused finding it hard to believe that she was going  into a relapse. He thought this was done and dusted. If only. He moved his shoulders and held the phone with his hands.

"Don't give me that doctor crap, maybe if I die this time, I won't relapse". She retorted sharply.

"Jesus, Ire! I care for you that's why I am saying all this. I need you to understand. Do you know how much it still haunts me. What if I hadn't injured and decided to come to class? I don't want to lose you. This is the only way I can help or do I need to come and see you. Oh shit! I can't come". He said, as if just realising.

"I have heard you, Dad. I will try".

"Don't try, do it. Take care".

"Blah blah blah".

Irene ended the call with a click. Dimeji sat, sinking the bed with his weight. He couldn't help but think that the next call won't be her saying hi.

Note:
Because I love Billie Eilish. It's from her album; the song is Hostage.