Silhouette : A Short Story Written By Fiyah
DOOM IN THE ROOM
3 May, 2010
She carefully tiptoed to the door in her room. She
stopped just right behind it, slightly opened it in such a
way that it gives her the room to peep from where she
was. She could see the sitting room from there and she
could see Amira too. Amira was sitting on the sofa
which was directly opposite the wall where the flat TV
screen was fitted into. Her eyes remained fixed on the
network news broadcaster on the TV screen. Najah
slammed the door shut in disappointment and anger not
worrying if that got Amira’s attention.
She went back inside her room and flung herself on her
bed as she fumed internally. Amira, once again
sabotaged her plans unconsciously. Najah knew she
was supposed to be out of this house already but
somehow, she had managed to remain inside it because
of her stepmother who wouldn’t leave the living room.
Her escape out of this house wouldn’t have been a
problem if the only entrance and exit out of the building
hadn’t been the living room door!
It never came to mind before but in her situation, she
couldn’t help thinking the architect who designed this
building was an asssss.
She rolled over until she was lying on her back while her
pair of brown eyes stared blankly at the ceiling. She
was simply upset and she felt restless lying down, doing
Why wouldn’t Amira just stand up and leave?
Her thoughts got interrupted by the short beep that
came from under the pillow. It was unmistakably an
SMS alert through her phone and she knew exactly who
that came from.
She fished her phone from under the pillow.
It was a text from Kunle, her boyfriend of two years.
‘What is holding you up this long? Hurry!’
The text seemed to increase the work efficiency of her
brain as she stood up immediately she was done
reading the text. She walked to the medium sized closet
beside her bed and hurriedly selected eight pieces of
clothing which she tucked impatiently into a black
backpack lying idly on her bed. She walked to the
window in her room with the now heavy backpack in her
hand, sliding it open, she threw the backpack out and
she could hear it land with a thud into the cold, dark
and almost empty street.
Satisfied with her action, she wound a black shawl lying
on her pillow right around her head. Tucking her hands
inside her sleeveless leopard prints Jumpsuit’s hip
pockets, she slipped on a pair of floral flip-flops after
which she made for the door hoping she looked casual
enough for her stepmother’s assessment.
Hopefully she prayed Amira wouldn’t even assess her.
‘Where are you going?’ Amira asked turning her head in
Najah’s direction, her eyes narrowing suspiciously while
a frown played on her thickset lips.
Najah stopped in her tracks. She was at the door
already thinking she escaped Amira’s scrutinization but
it appeared she didn’t.
She could sense a strange feeling surging through her
body. It wasn’t fear nor was it boldness. She felt the
need for a final show between Amira and her.
A show to let her have a piece of her mind.
A piece of what she thought of her.
She threw her head backwards as she turned back to
look at Amira. Folding her hands across her chest, she
cautioned her tongue from lashing out the wrong words
as she gently bit her lips.
‘I want to get something down the street.’ Najah forced
the words out through gritted teeth.
Amira had always been a pain in the ass right from the
first day she walked into the house as her dad’s new
wife. She was her mum’s best friend for goodness sake
and it was more than awkward when her dad introduced
her as his lover.
Najah was no kid when her mum ran away with her
lover leaving her dad and her heartbroken.
She left them and never looked back.
Najah wasn’t so sure if she’d recall what she even
looked like. Not like she wants to anyway.
But then, even if her mum had been some slut, even if
she had abandoned them, her dad and her for some
richer dude, even if she never acted like a mother when
she was around, Najah couldn’t fathom the reason why
her dad had to get married to her best friend!
It was just so uncool that ‘Aunt Amira’ turned to
She never called her mother anyway and that had been
the main reason they had been at war with each other.
They had always been at each other’s throats and
literarily scratch at each other’s faces with Amira trying
to enforce some kind of stupid rules on her.
Najah could still remember the day Amira had gasped
breathlessly when she had only told her dad a day after
her valedictory service in college about not being cut out
for school and would rather learn a trade and get
married afterwards instead of proceeding into higher
institution. Amira wasn’t invited to the daughter-father
meeting but somehow, she eavesdropped behind closed
doors and had came out of hiding to show her
disappointment while gasping for breath like she had
never heard anything so utterly insane when Najah was
done talking. Her dad, being a half literate himself and
having the wild dream of his daughter becoming a
lawyer, had told her plainly to forget about her crazy
wish as she would continue studying while Amira just
urged him on.
It wasn’t even her life!
Like that wasn’t enough, the duos had resorted into
thinking she intentionally failed in order to have her way
after two consecutive SSCE results came out and she
performed woefully in both. Najah knew she put up her
best to make good grades. She even tried to get illegal
help but even at that, she wasn’t lucky.
Trying to force her to study had always been like trying
to force a fish to climb a tree.
And it amazed her that she was the only one who saw
how impossible that is.
Her parents refused to give up on her despite the
disappointing results every year and Najah knew it was
high time she left them to achieve her own dream when
her dad talked about registering her for another exam
She was tired of achieving her dad’s dream for him.
Amira scrutinized her expression slowly and Najah
raised the sides of her lips in detest.
‘The ‘something’ you’d be getting outside doesn’t have
a name?’ Amira finally asked giving her a stern stare.
Najah looked sideways with a slightly agape mouth like
that would stifle the impending insult her tongue was
about to lash out but unfortunately, her method didn’t
‘I don’t see why I have to report my movement to you.’
Najah uttered serving Amira an equally stern and daring
Amira’s expression changed not and Najah wasn’t
surprised as she had always been ready for a word
Witch! Najah muttered under her breath.
‘If you haven’t noticed, it’s been five years since I had
been with your father. As his wife…’
‘And for five years, you haven’t even missed a period.
Talk more of having a still birth.’ Najah stabbed and a
pretty smile formed on her lips as she relished the
horror on Amira’s face. She was dumbstruck and
It appeared she wasn’t prepared for that.
‘Stop acting like you own me, Amira. You aren’t even
‘Well, she may not be, by blood but she is by law.’
Najah need not turn to look at the person who said
that. The voice and what it spelt all suggest her father
and she could tell, from his voice, that he was angry.
How could she have not hear the door click open when
she was just standing inches close to it?
‘Then the law sucks.’ Najah turned to face her dad and
it was then she saw the scowl on his face. It was so
scary she would have cringed but instead, she found
herself looking boldly at him in the eye. ‘…why would
the law make her my mum when the same law could
have penalize you for sleeping with your wife’s best
The slap stunned her. It was expected but unexpected
at that very moment. She could feel her dad’s palm
linger on her cheeks even after he withdrew it. Her head
spun and for a second, she would have sworn she lost
It was when she raised her head back that she realised
her head had turned to the right due to the impact of
‘That’s it!’ She screamed. Her cheeks were wet. It was
tears but she wasn’t crying. ‘I’m out of here!’ She
yelled in his face and ran out through the opened door.
She could feel the wind on her face and she could sense
She ran into the street until she was beside her room’s
window. The backpack lay on the floor beside it and she
hurriedly picked it up.
Punching the dust out of it, she strung it on her back
and ran down the street. The street was empty and cold
but she could hardly feel it with the excitement surging
She was out into her own world.
A world where her fish won’t be forced to climb a tree.
He slid his index finger right from her neck down to her
hips. His lips caressed her neck and he proceeded down
to her well rounded breasts from right under her dress.
She was just nineteen but she has a hefty breast for her
age. The softness of her skin drove him crazy and he
could feel stiffness right under him. He could hear her
silent moans and it just drove him crazier. He increased
the pace at which he seductively bit her skin and he
fondled with her breasts aggressively. The moan that
escaped his lips was loud and that was because she
leaned away from him and turned to look him in the
face. He drew her closer to him and she rested her head
on his broad chest while he embraced her tighter
closing the tiniest space between them
‘Why are we here?’ She asked as she moved away from
him while he stretched his hand for her hold but she
only wound her hand around her body making him
withdraw his hands to his sides. He was bare chested
and the blue short cladding his lower body was the only
clothing he had on.
‘Why are we in this hotel?’ She asked again. The flicker
of light in the room shone brightly on her face and he
saw a reddened mark on her left cheek marring her
sweet fair skin. He moved closer to her and touched the
mark. She winced when he did.
‘Stop!’ She yelled and tried to move away from him but
he brought him closer.
‘I’m so sorry sweetheart. Who did that to you?’ She
was mute and she avoided eye contact with him.
‘Najah, tell me. Tell me who it was so that I can teach
the person a lesson. I can cut of the arm that hurt you if
that would please you. No one dare touch you. No one
dare touch you or my baby. Just tell me who it is…’
‘It’s fine!’ She yelled then calmed herself. ‘I’m fine.’ She
ran her finger across his chest. ‘Just forget about it and
tell me what we are doing here.’ The words slowly
slipped off her lips and he felt like kissing her lips
closed but resisted the urge.
‘Baby, we would leave this town. We’d leave this
country. We’d be fine. You, me and junior here.’ He
patted her stomach lightly while grinning. ‘We can live
that life we’ve always dreamt off. Trust me.’ He kissed
her neck and she moved away.
‘Let me clean up first. Then, you can tell me more about
it cos I don’t understand a bit of what you just said.’
She slipped away after winking at him.
‘Should I join you?’ He asked, wetting his lips.
‘Nah’ She coaxed.
He stared at her as she wiggled her hips into the
‘Baby, where is the bathing robe!’ She called out to him.
‘It’s…’ His voice trailed off as he fell to his knees first,
then his whole body was on the ground. It was after he
fell that the gunshot echoed in his head.
His sides hurt and he knew that was where the bullet
The back of his head and body felt wet and he knew
that he was waddling in his own blood.
His vision blurred and he couldn’t make the face of his
shooter who appeared to be on mask.
The black clothed human stood over him and watched
him die. He felt sick and life drained out of his body
He could hear a distinctive voice which he guessed
belong to Najah but he couldn’t make out what she was
saying. She sounded distant and incoherent.
He wanted to speak.
He wanted to warn her of the doom in the room but he
couldn’t. He could only form incoherent murmur instead.
Slowly his eyes closed.
And right before it shut eternally, he blurrily saw Najah
emerge from the bathroom in the bathing robe.
She appeared stunned as she stared at him on the floor
then back to his shooter.
He saw his shooter direct the gun to her.
He wanted to stand up and snatch the gun away from
He couldn’t find his strength. He laid lifelessly on the
ground as he watched his shooter fire a deafening shot
at her. She fell with a thud on the tiled floor and her
pain ended immediately it started.
She had been shot on the forehead.
Kunle couldn’t help the tear that fell off his eyes.
Najah is dead.
Along with his baby.
And he was in so much pain
He was dying.
As if, listening to his pleas, the shooter directed the gun
to his forehead. Pulling the trigger, Kunle’s pain ended
in one horrific second.
To be Continued