I walked into the room, giddy with excitement and carrying flowers. “We’re taking you home today,” I announced.
I had spent the entire morning preparing your favorite meal of yam and eggs, eager for you to taste my new recipe. I always had an edge over you in the kitchen.
The day was bright, yet dark clouds were looming. That was fine by me. We could sleep in the back seat of the car. Even better, I could cuddle you, resting your head on my breasts so you could hear my heartbeat, undisturbed by its flatness.
The best part? You never cared about all that.
Your room was empty.
Where were you? The hospital staff didn’t greet me with the usual warmth in their eyes today. Nobody complimented my dress, which I had custom-made for your discharge. But I didn’t mind. Today was about bringing you home.
You weren’t on your bed. Your brother, holding the sheets, was crying. Confused, I wondered if he was overwhelmed with joy. Why was he crying so much, potentially ruining the new bedsheets I had chosen for your discharge? Didn’t he know you’d be right back from the bathroom after your bath? Why was the entire room in disarray?
“Where is Elijah?” I asked, maintaining my composure and calm.
“Mercy, please calm down,” someone replied.
“Where is Elijah!?” My voice was unrecognizable this time.
“Gone,” he said. “Elijah is gone.”
“That’s fine, we’ll meet him at home,” I responded.
“Mercy, my brother died during the early hours of this morning.”
A loud thud resonated, likely from the container of yam and eggs, not my head hitting the floor.
Eli, I hoped against hope that the nurse was merely taking extra time to help you bathe, and that was why you weren’t on your bed watching YouTube videos.
Maybe you were having one last physiotherapy session before we went home. Perhaps you needed some fresh air and had been wheeled outside to breathe it in.
Eli, my baby, you couldn’t possibly be gone.
“Elijah! Mercy is here. Let’s go home, my love,” I screamed.
You were probably just too far from this room.
“Eli, my love, I have so many activities planned for us at home. Not today, though. Today, we’ll just cuddle and sleep until you’re ready,” I yelled into the hallway.
Eli, why were people looking at me as if I had lost my mind? Why was your brother pulling me away from the door, his nose, running? Why was security escorting me out? Eli, they were manhandling me! I was struggling, and they wouldn’t let me be. Eli!
“My brother is dead, Mercy. You’re going to hurt yourself,” I heard.
The last thing I remember was falling, with nothing to grasp onto.
It’s been three days since you left me, Elijah.
I refuse to call it death. You deserted me, you deserter. You had promised me you would get better. This was not our plan.
The night before you passed, you told me not to stay at the hospital. You instructed me to go home and prepare for your arrival. You said you’d learn to walk again so we could dance salsa like in the good old days. You promised we’d order pizza and enjoy it with beer while watching Netflix.
Then, you left me.
Now, without you, who will ensure I don’t skip meals? It’s been three days, and I refuse to eat anything because you aren’t here to coax me.
Who will hold me when life’s chaos becomes too much? Who will feed me when I feign tiredness, just to be pampered? Who will pepper my face with tiny kisses, even as I pretend to dislike it? Who will drive me to the office on days I wish to escape the world? Who will massage my back and kiss my shoulders when malaria strikes again?
You deserted me! You called me the focal point of your existence , promising never to leave. We even got matching tattoos to symbolize our bond. And yet, you left.
Elijah, please come back. You always called me proud, knowing how much I detest begging. But here I am, setting my pride aside, begging you to return. I can’t feel my heartbeat. I can’t bring myself to leave this bed. Time has lost all meaning. Come back, and I will rise immediately.
I promise to tidy up after you, to stop arguing, to make your side of the bed before we leave every morning. You want yam and eggs every day? Consider it done. I’ll give you massages, play video games with you into the night, sit and genuinely listen to your complaints about work, hold you, give you head rubs, and make you happy.
Our wedding was set for June, Elijah.
Am I supposed to turn up alone?
As the sun goes down and the moon prepares to rise, life continues unabated around me, indifferent to the fact that my entire world has crumbled. School children will head to school tomorrow, and everyone else will carry on with their daily routines as if nothing has happened.
Everything has happened, Elijah.
Everything.
I’m currently pressing your favorite clothes, and I’ve already had your shoes polished. As soon as I’m done, I’ll go sit by the gate and await your arrival. I want to be the first person you see when you return. I’ll forgive you, and we can forget all this ever happened.
I’m waiting for you; don’t be late.
