18.

I sigh heavily as I pull into the parking side of my rented apartment, exhausted from a long day drive and getting stucked in the stupid traffic from the Island back to the mainland, Ikorodu precisely, some parts of the roads are under construction as the government decided to widen the road. My Mercedes Benz CLA 250 coupe seems to purr in agreement as I turn off the engine. I rub my tired eyes, ready to collapse onto my bed. As I step out of the car, the warm evening air envelops me, but I barely notice.

I drag myself into the small, dimly lit room, the only furniture a thin mattress on the floor. I collapse onto it, exhaustion washing over me like a wave. The walls seem to close in around me, the silence deafening. As I lie here, I notice something is off. My paintings are scattered on the floor, my easel broken, my clothes ransacked. My art supplies, normally organized in the corner, are strewn about like confetti. My laptop, my constant companion, is nowhere to be seen.

Panic sets in as I scramble to my feet, surveying the chaos. My heart races, my mind racing with questions. Who did this? Why? I feel violated, like someone has ripped apart a part of me. The room is tiny, with no chair or table to hide behind. The neighbors' rooms are just a thin wall away, their muffled voices a reminder that I'm not alone. I stumble towards the door, hoping that somehow, someway, my laptop will be waiting for me in the hallway. But it's gone, taken by someone who has violated my tiny sanctuary.

I feel exposed, vulnerable, and trapped. The room seems to shrink further, the shadows closing in like a vise. I know I have to act, to report this, but to whom? The police? The landlord? And get my laptop back, but from where? The thief's lair? I'm frozen in fear, my heart racing in the silence.

I'm exhausted, both physically and emotionally. I manage to lie down on the mattress, my anger and frustration giving way to fatigue. I reach for my phone and dial Darth's number, but it goes straight to voicemail. I try again and again, but there's no response.

As I wait for him to call back, my mind wanders back to the past, to the day we first met in school. I remember seeing him getting bullied by a group of kids in the playground. I had just moved to a new school and didn't know anyone, but something about his vulnerability struck a chord in me. I stood up for him, fought off the bullies, and we became inseparable.

Darth was always the quiet, brooding type, but he had a heart of gold. We shared our deepest secrets, our dreams, and our fears with each other. He was more than just a best friend; he was my brother. We went through every ups and downs together, from our first heartbreaks to our first triumphs.

But then, Star's impostor's words come flooding back: "His mission was to kill you." And her follow-up statement: "I have no idea why he finds it so difficult to kill you." I try to connect the dots, but nothing makes sense. Darth, my Darth, would never harm me. We've been through thick and thin together. I remember the times he'd have himself blamed for my mistakes, the times he'd stay up all night to help me with a project, the time he listened to me when I needed someone to talk to.

I'm lost in thought, trying to reconcile the Darth I know with the Darth Star's impostor described. But my exhaustion eventually gets the better of me, and I drift off to sleep, my mind still reeling with questions and doubts.

           ******************

My eyes slowly opens to the dawn of a new day, my head banging like migraine came down with a second thought to have my life.. I had no alcohol but I could swear I'm suffering from an hangover...

Damn, I was exhausted last night.. my stomach grumbles like an alarm clock of a reminder of something I should know but have no idea or atleast I pretend I have no idea.. I stand up scanning my ransacked room, how did I sleep in this? I have no idea where or what to start from, My mother seems to have given me her support for the very first time on a mission to embark but sincerely I have no idea what this mission is. Three things I know for certain are; I can't reach out to Darth, My only friend, I bet he is probably finding a better way to kill me, I really can not figure out why?

Secondly, I have people who are trying to kill me for a reason unknown and my father the only person I can turn to is dead...

Thirdly, I need to find who Cynthia was and I need to figure out my connection to all these.

   I take off my top, a Fendi design round neck top, and decides to check on the car parked outside, I walk there to find it still fine and everything in it intact as I lean my face to see inside from outside.. I walk back in, sit on my bed feeling like a lost soul. I decide to check up on my landlord, I pick up my top where I have laid it, still moisty as a result of sweat since I slept in it, as I walk towards his corridor in the main house, I notice everything seems too neat than usual, I hardly come to this part of the house, this is where most neighbours' rooms are, just a two are at the back corridor, Mine and the neighbour who I realized impersonated my sister.. I knock at his door, there isn't any response, something really seems off... It seems like he traveled but my intuition says he and his family have been killed..

A rat runs by me, "in the morning, seriously?" I say with annoyance like I am dying to talk to someone or anything... I walk back to my car, pick up one of ther credit cards and head to the nearest food vendor since my stomach keeps grumbling like an alarm set to snooze...

      A few walking distance is a food vendor, a small green painted shop, the paint seems to be real old and one can clearly see some parts of it turning brown, some already are just walls, with a wooden extension to probably cover her foods from rain, outside of the shop is her goods, well aromatic smell fills the air around her, a big pot of beans that is always on fire on a iron charcoal cooker, three big Coolers where she has different type of rice, fried rice, jollof rice and white rice. Four small transparent bowls for rice accompaniment, plantain, spaghetti, Salad and dried fish and two big pot of stew and soup, all these perfectly placed and arranged on a big table..

And in the small shop lays three benches to face each other as customers who eat would find comfort to dine there..

Amidst two to three people, I find myself ordering a couple of mixture of all she sells, she dishes it to me with a smile,

_"broda, what about that your friend? E don tey wey I see both of una(brother, how's your friend? It's been a while since I last seen you both)" she says in the local pidgin English with the usual igbo accent as she come serve me my food on the bench I sit, my mouth drooling,

_"he is fine, mama" I say without looking at her, my eyes buried in the food, my whole focus is on the food... My mission can wait, I've got to enjoy this food, all that matters now is this food..

I order for a bottle water, she comes to drop it on my table, I hand her my credit card, my mouth still drooling, my body vibrating, yes, I am a foodie, when I am mad I eat, when I am disappointed I eat, when I loose I eat, when I win I eat... I stress eat..

She inserts the credit card into her machine as she calculates my fee to be #1400, (one thousand four hundred naira), approximately $21.50(USD)

I ordered her to withdraw #1500 ($22.10) as a gesture of appreciation from me like Darth and I used to whenever we come here...

The other two customers are rounding up their food while I am about to engage in mine, my phone beeps, I check to see if it's some random Internet pings but it's not...

I lost appetite, my vibrating body and drooling mouth stops, I can hardly feel any saliva in my mouth as I see a text from Darth.

"HELLO BROTHER".. at an instance I know this isn't Darth, he never says hello brother but rather he'd address me in Spanish, since I taught him a bit and he knows how I love to enage myself in foreign languages, I can translate up to 14 different languages, don't ask me how?  My brain has always been keen to things like that except mathematics

Darth won't address me that way, on of his favorite words is "Yo Cabron" same as I call him, I feel anger, the same weird way I felt during the encounter with Star's impostor, truthfully, the feel is different it's like I want the violence, every fibre of me wants to snap something...

_"where's my friend" I texted back...

My phone rings, it's a call from Darth. I'm going to love this...

_"Before you asked of him again, you should know he is dead" a male's voice says..

I feel no remorse, as a matter of fact my nerves are boiling for a bit of action

'"where are you?" I say gently, my eye sights my already getting cold food..

_"how's the food, ohh, my bad, you haven't touched it yet" he says...

Now, I feel a bit of fear and anger mixed, the tension in the air seems to be strong.