My instagram Love - Season 1 - Episode 53

4 years ago

My instagram Love - Season 1 - Episode 53

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6 weeks later. Friday. 07:32 PM.
What goes around comes around.

I never believed in the existence of karma until I got a taste of my own medicine. My condition was a sorry case. I became the talk of the town. In no time at all, the pictures of my current physical structure were circulating on the Internet with different captions and various forged stories. Bloggers turned me to an asset that fetched enormous income for them and journalists became stubborn pests in my private life. I was turned to a mere puppet overnight. I became a caricature and a subject of ridicule in no time. If only I could turn back the hands of time, I would’ve done so a long time ago. I would’ve seized the opportunity without hesitation.

I could remember a movie I once saw in the cinema, titled The Bourne Ultimatum. A particular quote caught my attention in the movie, which says, “Hope for the best, plan for the worst.” Unfortunately, I never planned for a situation like this. I should’ve read between the lines when I had the chance. I should’ve studied the writing on the wall when I was threatened by the men of the underworld, but I attempted a narrow escape instead, which led to my present condition as a handicapped man.
Never in my wildest dreams did I ever foresee something like this happening to me of all people. I never imagined that someday, I’d be the one wallowing in such pitiful position. I was traumatised. On the day I regained consciousness, I almost wished I could end up back in that same coma I had recovered from after what I discovered about my left arm. I almost prayed for the ground to open up and swallow me into the depths of the Earth, or for the Grim Reaper to walk through the wooden door of the ward where I was admitted and just snatch my soul to the afterlife right then and there, but I comported myself and got my act together like a real man is supposed to do when difficulties arise.
The fact that one’s arm had been amputated doesn’t mean the end of the world for that person. The most important thing for a person in such a situation is to have something, someone or people that are worth living for. And, as far as I was concerned, I had a good reason to choose life over death all because of Alice, my priceless pearl. If not for her, I probably wouldn’t be as determined as I was to live, excel and achieve greater heights in life. As long as she exists, I exist too. She was all that I had, and I was all that she had, too. I’d always choose to stand by her side, come what may.

Three direct shots into a person’s arm was nothing funny at all. It wasn’t child’s play, nor was it some sort of entertainment that was meant to be taken lightly. How I survived the ruthless beating and the three bullets that pierced my arm like flaming, sharp spears, I knew not, but I was grateful to be alive anyway. Life goes on no matter what happens.
“Mister Man.” Francesca called, stroking my right hand which had been motionless on the dining table for more than five minutes. “Eat your food. It’s getting cold.”
“I’m full.” I said, dropping the fork back on the stainless steel tray. “Could you hand me the napkin, please?”

“No.” She refused, wagging her head and her index fingers for emphasis. “You must finish that food, sir.”
“Here we go again.” I mumbled, sighing. “Must everything always end in a quarrel with you? Can’t you at least pretend to be civilized for once?”
“Nobody is quarelling with anybody today.” Francesca said, wagging her head again, while her hands returned to the tray that contained the cutlery. “If you haven’t noticed, you’ve been losing a lot of weight lately. You now look like a quack wizard’s broomstick instead of a valiant Prince Charming that you’re meant to be. All I’m saying is that you should eat good food for the sake of your health. Is that too much to ask for?”

“I could’ve sworn I just told you I’m satisfied.” I said, pushing back from the dining table. “You can’t possibly force me to do something that’s against my wish, can you?”
“As a matter of fact, yes, I can.” She answered rudely, giving me a disgruntled look. “Especially when it involves your health, sir. I have every right to be extremely worried about you, Mr Orji Tundechukwu. So with all due respect, I’d appreciate it if you stop treating me like a stranger, quit being stubborn and do what I asked you to do at once.”

“Listen to me, babe, I understand that you’re only trying your best to be of assistance to me, okay? I know how you feel about me. I know it’s not been easy for you to watch me reject your food these past few days, but you have to understand that it’s not my fault. In fact, it’s nobody’s fault. I’m just messed up to the core for now, and I’m afraid it might take a while for me to get my act together. I’m sorry about my awful mood swings, my frequent loss of appetite and the way I’ve been totally distant to you for more than 3 weeks. We live in the same house, yet it feels like we are two worlds apart. On a regular basis, you should know I’m not this kind of person, Francesca.” I made sure I hit the nail on the head as honestly as I could. “I wish you could see things from my perspective. Please, try to bear with me for the time being.”

“I’ve heard you, sir.” Francesca’s distant look showed that she didn’t really pay much attention to everything I said. All she was concerned about was my welfare, and I wasn’t against that, but she was overdoing it—carrying it too far for that matter, and the worst part about the entire issue was that she hardly took corrections from anybody. I was so sick and tired of the attitude she was putting up as a defense mechanism. I wanted to talk, but she beat me to it. “Now that that’s out of the way, can you KINDLY finish your food, sir?”