章節 4: Poisoned on day 1
Staring at the blank phone in his grasp, Jidenna could not tell how he went through the call. The only thing he remembered was the end.
"Your father wants to see you. Remember to come back this weekend. Remember, don't tell anyone you are coming back to the village yet."
Dun dun. And that was the end.
She had cut the call. He slouched into his seat.
His blank gaze landed on the carton of juice on the table. The forgotten thirst returned with fierceness.
He reached for it, grabbing it and gulping it down, ignoring the thrill that turned into zaps.
Slamming the empty container on the table, he once again marveled at the genius of this civilization.
He rotated the carton around, examining it.
He came across a black print: manufacturing date.
"As expected," he marveled. "To be able to store fruit juice for this long without it going bad, especially in the absence of magic, is simply…"
"Genius."
He ignored his thoughts on the foreign word "magic," as he knew he would not get any valuable response apart from the knife-stabbing pain that radiates from any attempt to dig into his veiled past.
He loved his life without pain–
Thud thud. In his chest, his heart skipped a beat.
"Arrgh."
He clutched at his heart, his body bowing over and falling to the floor. His hands instinctively reached out to the table for support but failed.
Instead, his palm swept everything off the table, sending them tumbling to the floor with him.
He lay on the chilling German tile, curled in a fetal position, his knees to his chest protecting himself.
Shivers racked his body. In his ears, he could hear his heartbeat as it slowed down, sluggishly coughing out a beat—a blaring contrast to its former vigorous pumping.
The room before him blurred, the objects meshing together until he could no longer tell them apart.
"Ha, what's happening?" His fist clenched in panic. "I can't see." Shaking his head, trying to clear his sight.
His mind descended into ghost-quietness.
"Am I… dying?" he asked no one in particular.
"But, why?" he wondered. He couldn't understand. "Why did he come to this world if he should die again?"
Darkness covered his view.
"Again?"
"Agwu, your existence, the existence of the old gods halts the growth of new gods. Forgive me, my friend, but for the good of us all, you, like all the others, will have to die," a voice spoke in a solemn tone.
A golden spear with mysterious carvings was plunged down.
"Kuuk." The wet sound of stabbed flesh, blood trailed down the elevated platform, pooling before seeping into the runes, intricate drawings below.
Immediately, the blood touched the runes, they lit up, coming to life.
"Hahaha," the same voice boomed.
"The era of the New gods is here!"
****
Inside an apartment in the city of Lagos, in the country of Azala
A dark-skinned man lay on the floor in a fetal position, passed out cold.
Suddenly, runic carvings appeared on his body, faintly glowing blue. The intensity increased until it became blinding. After its peak, it faded until it became invisible, then blended back into his skin.
The boy shot up from the floor, coughing.
After his coughing fit was over, he flopped back onto the tiles, laying there with his hands sprawled.
He stared at the ceiling with eyes widened in disbelief. "What was that?"
His head buzzed, trying to get around his recovery from his near-death experience.
"Did I just almost die? But I just got here?"
Time passed, but he lay there, going over what had just happened when he remembered.
"But the way did that happen? It wasn't physical." He patted his body, feeling nothing.
"If it wasn't physical… then how did–" He paused. The colorful carton of juice with bold fonts flashed through his mind. "Oh right." He tapped his forehead.
"My greed will not kill me."¹ He sighed but continued his train of thought.
"Was the juice poisoned? So, they wanted to kill me? No, no, that doesn't make sense."
"Ha."
"Dying after receiving admission into a prestigious university." The corners of his lips stretched at the dark humor.
"Assuming that isn't the case, that means someone killed me."
"Okay, but who?"
From the floor, he stretched his arm and got the phone, which was on the floor too after he had swept everything off the table earlier in his struggle against death.
He tapped the fingerprint sensor, unlocking it.
He scrolled through the phone, swiping aimlessly before entering his call log.
"As of yesterday, the record showed 41 calls." He clicked his tongue in distaste. "That will be tough."
He screenshot it, saving it as evidence.
Then he exited the app and entered his gallery, scrolling through. There were no pictures from yesterday, only the days before.
"Nothing."
"It seems finding the culprit wouldn't be as easy as I believed."
"I'll have to take it slowly then and fish out the person. Can't startle the snake now, can we?"
****
Currently, he sat on a knee-sized stool in the kitchen, close to the entrance, squeezing out juice from the fruit when he heard his name.
"Jidenna!"
"Yes, Ma?"
"Come and give this food to your father."
He kept the manual squeezer, rinsed his palms, and walked up to his mother, then carried out the tray of food for his father, who sat in the living room.
It has been one week since he woke up in that apartment.
Afterward, he navigated his way back to his village like a foreigner. A person who didn't know his village, even his parents gave him strange looks and exchanged glances of concern when he stumbled over his words trying to explain the many challenges he faced coming back, including almost getting lost.
Moreover, him, as he was told, who was born and spent 10 years of his life here, in the village before moving with his uncle to the city.
It was certainly an odd but not unpleasant experience.
By the time he had arrived, all the animals had gone to sleep save for the crickets and toads.
Whose consistent croaking and hissing was like a nail being driven into his head by a hammer.
The next day, immediately he walked out of his room into the living room, a robust fair-skinned middle-aged woman sat on the sofa.
He stood there, feeling unsure of where to place his feet when she gave a wide, beaming smile that somehow did not reach her eyes and said,
"So you don't know how to greet your mother again, abi?"³
創作者的想法 
Daoist_Starweaver
Daoist_Starweaver Today's Footnote is here↓
Eh he is usually used to reply to some ( like, Good Morning, Eh he good morning)
Or, to urge someone to continue their words (e.g, I will buy tomatoes, Eh he, curry, Eh he…)
Or, As a form of "where was I again" like remembering something.
In this case, it's the fourth.
2. Incase you're confused, Greeting your parents in the morning is a form of respect to them.
3. Some follow the rules of being silent about your wealth to avoid people with wicked intentions.
4. Dị means Husband
5. Di Opara means First Son, i.e her first son is gone.
(The two Di's are different.)
6. The third season in Nigeria, Harmattan, is usually dusty, dry, and cold.
7. The rule very important life changing discussion or just serious discussion should be held early in the morning.
Imagine being dragged off the warm and comfy bed at 1am by your mom to discuss about life.
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