“OMG! So the person I thought knew something actually knows nothing. Holy smokes!” I think to myself. “What am I going to do to crack this case? This is where Sherlock Holmes’s kind of expertise must come in play.”
The biggest bummer about it all is that the overseer in our inner circle, Unathi, knows nothing. When that is the case, then the rest of the guys are probably also in the dark since, at the time, they were busy enjoying themselves. But, despite all these loopholes and uncertainties, there must be someone out there with a clue about what happened. I just do not know who they are.
While thinking, I shiver a bit as the temperature in my room continues to drop. I can hardly tell if it is an August breeze creeping on me, or an aghast one, but I would be shaming those who had died for the independence of African states such as my one-eyed grandfather if I do not go for aghast. I then grind my teeth while quivering.
While I’m thinking, my phone rings, and it is an unknown number. “Ugh,” I think to myself. “Who the hell could this be?”
I hate unknown callers, and if I do not have your contacts saved in my cell phone, it simply means you are not that important to me. I might as well not answer when you call, just like I am doing now, especially when you are dressed in the cheap label called ‘wrong timing’.
I yawn while ignoring the call, and then sit up on my butt. I am feeling sick, though, really sick. Immediately, my stomach rumbles, and I run back into the bathroom. I then kneel around the toilet chamber and vomit pretty badly for about five good minutes, which super-strangely seems like five hours.
“Surely, a lot of stuff went down my system last night,” I think while vomiting.
I had had alcohol, sex, weed, then the latest, cocaine, and then more Alcohol, but I do not know which one is making me sick now.
“Better not be sex,” I think to myself. “OMG! I am starting to get breathless. This is not good.”
After a while, I pant a little, cough, and start barfing again. Then, while I am busy, somebody comes knocking on my door in the hallway. I quiet down to listen, and then comes another knocking.
“Teekay! Teekay!” a female voice says. “Everything alright, buddy?”
Goddamn! It is my beautiful neighbour, Diana. “To what do I owe such an ill-timed visit?” I ask myself. I then groan, and then start coughing again. “Hot-damn!” I think.
“Are you okay, in there?” Diana calls out again after failing to get a response the first time.
“Yeah,” I shout at the top of my voice after clearing my throat. “Everything is fine, Diana. Thank you.”
She whines before saying anything further. “Teekay, I don’t think you are fine. Can I come in?” she finally says.
“Damn! She cannot find me like this. NO! NO! NO! This is not happening,” I think to myself.
I might not have sexual feelings for her (I kind of froze them to death a few months ago when I had a girlfriend), but letting her enter my apartment at this point seems like a bad idea, Michael Jackson bad! I would curse the day I was born if she sees me drowning in my own vomit like this. It could change the way she views me and the way she values me. It could change everything, and ruin anything good we got going between us. No lie!
Even though I have flaws like any other human being, I still must not let sweet Diana get acquainted with them, especially this type of flaw that is in motion right now. It could give her unending nightmares.
“I’m okay, dear. It is a small issue, and I’m handling it, thank you,” I say.
I know for a fact that if Diana finds me wearing nothing but my Sponge Bob shorts, with my head dipped halfway in a chamber like it is some sort of treasure, puking this bad, she would think I am just a lowlife drunkard dealing with an ‘occupational hazard’, and I cannot let that happen. Diana is one lady any devil would hide his horns and evilness from, just because she is special, and for a long time, I have successfully kept our neighbour vs neighbour relationship not as dangerous as that in The Boy Next Door movie.
After a while, Diana calls out again. “Teekay, please just say the word and I’ll come in. Please!” she says. “I really need to check on you, right away.”
“I’m perfectly fine. Really,” I respond.
“No, Teekay. You are not,” she objects firmly. “You know I have been hearing you from my own bathroom for a while now, and you do not seem fine at all. I’m coming in.”
I giggle infirmly when I realise she cannot get in because the door is locked. I then regain almost half of my composure and hear her cussing in the hallway.
“Come on, chill, Diana. Believe me, it’s nothing serious, okay? Just get back to what you were doing, I’ll be out in a minute,” I say, lying to her, and knowing there is no way she can get past that door. But, somehow, as I start barfing again, she is already kneeling beside my sorry butt, patting me on the back, and it is very embarrassing!
Tell us: What do you think is going to happen next?