Chapter 4

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Empty....

Her heart furiously pumping icicles through her body, slowed to a deep, resounding thud in her chest, making her knees go weak as apprehension took its toll.

The pounding in her head was palpable in her temples, filling her ears, and, besides the faint, ominous tick-tock of the wall clock, nothing else registered.

Nothing else moved.

Chineke!

An ornate vase, amongst many disposed at corners, had been knocked to the floor and there it lay in shattered ruins of ceramic bits and clods of black earth, the flowers in disarray.

"How am I going to explain this?" Uche muttered to herself, careful to whisper. Armed with the pipe, she cast wary glances about while she stalked to the mess and knelt down in front of it, dropping her weapon at her side and staring impotently, her mind distraught as she sifted the sand through her fingers.

There was nothing to salvage; it was completely destroyed.

The imminence of danger almost didn't matter to Uche, for it was momentarily forgotten, that an intruder still lurked somewhere inside, maybe, with a lethal weapon-a gun, most probably-and that as she fretted over the woes that could befall her after the nightmarish hour, her mind already somewhere in the future, that weapon could be taking aim at her unguarded back, the distraction making her a sitting duck.

The keys....where are the keys?

Somewhere in the midst of her panic, it occurred to her addled brain that she had flung her keys in the heat of the moment earlier, and now, they were nowhere in sight.

Behind her, there was a thud, which was followed by a series of tap tap tap...

Her breath hitched, pressure quickly building in her throat. In one fluid movement, before the meagre courage she had mustered dissipated, Uche grabbed the iron pipe, shot to her feet, and spun around, battle ready for whatever threat.

It wasn't human.

It moved fast.

It was probably the furriest and biggest of its kind she had ever seen, and she had seen enough, courtesy the school's hostel.

Squeak! Squeak! Squeak!

A filthy, skanky rat

The animal, frightened by Uche's sudden movement, jinked way through tables and chairs then vanished behind the door she had come through.

The air deflated out of Uche's lungs and she bent over, placing the rod erect in front of her, and clasping her hands on the upturned end. Eyes drooping close, deep, slow breaths eased through her lips.

Then she chuckled into fits of laughter, hysteria bubbling to the surface, and for a long time, the sound resonated until it petered out into dry sobs.

"Okay," she murmured drowsily, and heaved as she straightened, moving towards the door, her hand firmly gripping the pipe. "It's just a rat."

While Uche peeked into corners, craned her neck as she stretched to look over highly placed objects, wandered in and out of rooms, searching for the rodent, she thought about how irrational her fears had been.

Uche couldn't help but think that she was teetering over an edge, from which, if she toppled over, something malevolent awaited her descent.

She was standing in the kitchen, a finger scratching her brow, at a loss, when she couldn't think of anywhere else to look.

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