The sun sitting heavily upon the nape of my skin burning it’s way anxiously into my bones. My excitement made me pay little worry to the sun. My 5000 words short story which I had sent to the group chat the day before had received a few accolades, it would be the topic of discussion for today’s meeting definitely. I could feel it in my bones as I made my way to Mrs. Thomas’ mansion. Or maybe it was the sun.
The time was 5:19pm, I was late. I rang the doorbell and waited as was the ritual. I would stand here for five minutes before Fatima opens the door out of breath and to start spoon-feed me lies of how she was upstairs cleaning madam’s room and didn’t hear the doorbell.
I bumped my head up and down as I waited, then caught myself grinning. Mrs. Thomas would be proud of my writing skills and the others would tease me with tiny hints of jealousy in their lungs, especially Tobi. And oh I was ready to critique that yeye nonsense he sent to the group chat earlier in the week.
Ten minutes gone and Fatima is yet to unlock the door. I twisted the doorknob and the door cracked open, can you imagine? I stepped inside the house and everywhere was awfully quiet. I shuffled my way to the living room, which was our meeting venue and stopped dead in my track.
Color ran away from face as if being chased with a cane. My head felt light and it was almost as if I needed help holding it in place. My breath began to play hide and seek with me as I gasped and tried to hold on to it. Right there in the middle of the living room lay a lifeless body. Blood flowed like a river from Uche’s body to my feet. Her eyes staring straight into my eyeballs as if begging for help. Her left hand clutched her stomach, legs two feet apart from each other.
There was no weapon around her. The living room didn’t look like she had struggled before passing away either. The scene looked fresh, like someone had killed her just two minutes ago. Her position looked like she was uncomfortable. Like she had been dropped hurriedly on the floor, her neck twisted to the side. I looked at the TV, an unfamiliar song was playing. I looked first at my watch, the time was 5:35pm then back at Uche and my legs gave way.
Moments later I stare at everyone seated in the living room. The members of the writing critique group, most of them looked lost and sorrowful. The ladies were wailing and mumbling to one another. I looked to the floor and couldn’t stop seeing Uche’s corpse, which had now been removed. I sniffed and Tobi turned to offer me a tissue. I looked at him and looked away. There were people in the room. Most importantly Ifeoma was there and I could not be seen crying into a tissue like a girl even if I was tearing up on the inside.
Two police officers-one female and one male-were talking to Mrs. Thomas, I could hear her asking for permission to call her lawyer. She was going to accompany the police to the station as the owner of the house.
I breathed heavily and stared around again. I had the vaguest idea of who the murderer could be. But it had to be one of us all present in this room. The murder seemed quick and looked like it had happened minutes before I walked into the house. Looking at my fellow writers, Fatima, who was bawling her eyes out, shouting that she knew nothing about it as she had been upstairs cleaning madam’s room, the security guards, the chef, Mrs. Thomas, I wondered who could have killed Uche. The police said she was stabbed in the chest three times.
I started to pick and probe each suspect in my head. A policeman walked up to us and said, “We would start with Emeka.”
My eyes widened at the sound of my name.
legacywriter 