Chapter 1

"The weather today is dangerous. We urge everyone to stay in the comfort of their homes."

I hissed and stabbled the remote, switching from BBC News to MTV Base. These people always have something to say. "Today it’s this, tomorrow it’s that. If staying home is so important, why are they at the studio working? Selfish people!"

I was furious. Missing out on today wasn’t an option. Besides, the news said "comfort," and there was nothing comfortable about my house.

I took a quick bath, dressed in fifteen minutes, and grabbed my crossbody bag. I had to meet Demola. He promised a lead on quick money, an opportunity he insisted was a "one day only" deal.

When I stepped outside, Church Road was eerily hollow. No bike men, no shouting hawkers. Usually, this road is a hive of noise, but today, not a single engine hummed.

"All these people, fearing for nothing," I scoffed. The sky was bruised and heavy, but it wasn't even raining yet.

I jogged from my house to the junction. Still nothing. No bikes, no Keke, not even a private car. A small voice in my head whispered for me to turn back, but I shook it off. Demola said it had to be today. I pushed forward, trekking the long stretch toward Nyanya, sweat slicking my skin.

"Omo, life is hard when you’re broke," I groaned.

Finally, I reached his address, a modern two-story complex. It looked too polished, too unreal. As I approached, I caught the hushed voices of neighbors huddled nearby.

"Another one?" one whispered. "And the last one is still inside o."

I glanced up, but my stubborn mind refused to connect the dots. The world was dimming now; the clouds were churning as if they were at war.

I knocked. Once. Twice. No answer. Then, a flicker of movement behind the window caught my eye. A shadow pressed against the glass, and a frantic whisper pierced the air: "Run away now. If you go in, you may never come out."

Cold dread spiked through me. By then, the neighbors had slipped away, doors clicking shut.

"Who’s that?" I heard Demola’s voice from inside.

"No one," a girl’s voice whimpered back. Then, silence.

"Must be Patricia," I heard him say, his tone dripping with casual cruelty. "She should have called by now. At least let me have some fun with her before I take her to the Boss. I’ve never seen a girl as 'mumu' as her."

My heart hammered against my ribs. 

Ehhh!!!

What is going on here?

Mumu? Me?

"Better run now," the voice in my head screamed.

I heard his footsteps approaching the door. In the background, Burna Boy’s Common Person began to blare.

I touched my phone in my pocket, no sound, even tho I set it on Vibration, the fear in me is taking no chances. 

"Hello, Boss? We’re coming soon," Demola’s voice was closer now. "I’m with one already... the other one? She's fresh blood."

Ahhhh!!

Fresh Blood Keh!!

I didn't wait. I turned and bolted. I flew down the stairs and out of the complex, my lungs burning. I ran blindly, fueled by raw terror. I didn't see the "Men at Work" signs. I didn't notice I was sprinting against traffic.

I burst onto the main road. I didn't see the car until it was a wall of metal in front of me.

Thud.

The impact was a roar. I hit the bonnet and then the tar.

I could feel my head pounding, my Body becoming light, too light. 

 "Is she dead?" a voice drifted from miles away before the world went black.

When I woke, the darkness had deepened. I was still on the floor. It seemed they had left me there, a hit-and-run statistic.

Nigerians will never listen. Just like me, others had ignored the warnings. Cars splashed past now, drivers navigating the gloom as if I didn't exist. People stared through their windows, but no one stopped. Not one soul.

Then, the sky broke. It started as a drizzle, then escalated into a hurricane. The rain came fast and sharp, stinging my skin like needles. I was freezing. I was broken. And I was utterly alone.

It felt like hours but I opened my eyes, I didn't even know I had closed them again. 

"How am I not dead yet?", I asked myself

I tried to sit up but couldn't, I felt weak, so weak I couldn't even turn my head. 

"I should have stayed home," I sobbed, the words lost in the wind. "My stubbornness did this."

I closed my eyes for the Fifth time since the accident and prayed I never open them again. 

 The money I was so desperate for... I never even touched it. I had traded my life for a ghost.

I wasted today and is still going to die for it, pathetic and painfully so. 

A single tear tracked through the rainwater on my cheek as the world finally went silent.