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Lost - Ukeme Inyangotu

Updated: May 21, 2021



As Mo’Nique looked out the window from the second story, she noticed that it was raining outside, little puddles of water gathering on the sidewalk until they became large puddles that eventually connected to each other. The flowers in the yard were slightly wilted and sagged under the weight of the water droplets. She looked up at her clock, which read 6:05 am, and turned around to grab her black backpack with rose gold stripes running down the sides.

As she bounced down the steps, she could hear her mom singing softly. Entering the kitchen to grab an energy drink, she met her mom at the midnight blue and champagne marble island. She was mixing her famous eggs with red bell and habanero peppers, small bits of sausage, peas, oregano, and sea salt. As her mother poured the mixture into the skillet, the aroma she adored traveled around the room while the eggs began to crisp at the edges.

“Are you staying for breakfast?” her mom asked.

Mo’Nique glanced at her phone and answered with a mumble. She had gotten in trouble last night for sneaking out; her parents had caught her entering the house at 12 am. She had tried to explain that she was studying at the library, but they didn’t believe her, so she decided that they would get the silent treatment today.

The eggs turned golden yellow, just the way she loved them. Since her mom was almost done, Mo’Nique got up to get out a plate for her eggs to make a breakfast burrito to eat on the go.

As soon as she sat her plate down, her dad strode into the kitchen and in a booming voice, asked, “How’s everyone’s morning been?”

When all that followed was a quiet okay and fine, he walked up behind her mom and planted a kiss on her cheek, which Mo’Nique typically didn’t see a lot. Her mom smiled and gave Mo’Nique her eggs. She had already brought out her wrap and started making her burrito.

Damien ran down the stairs to meet the smell of Mom’s eggs. As Mo’Nique was walking towards the door, her brother called after her, but she walked out the door as if she didn’t hear him.

 

It was 2:45 pm when Mo’Nique turned onto the sidewalk and spotted her front door ajar. Why would her front door be open? As she neared her front steps, she noticed that her usually perfect grass was speckled with boot prints. The wilted flowers from that morning struggled to stand under the abrupt force that had unwillingly made them bow down. Fear rose in her chest as she crept into the house. Was that blood that she saw on the floor? The boot prints, as dark as midnight, continued into the house. She noticed a pungent metallic smell mixed with the lingering aroma of her mom’s eggs from the morning. The smell made her stomach lurch. The image of her family lying in an ocean of their blood with their eyes glazed, gazing up at heaven, sprung into her mind. The glass bowl her mother had used that morning was broken into pieces on the white tile floor. Suddenly, she heard shuffling behind her and abruptly turned around.

She had never seen her dad look so small and scared before. He motioned for her to follow him and slowly led her to her parents’ room.

“Where’s mom and―”, her dad hushed her. She turned to her left to see her mom and brother hugging each other in the closet, and a wave of relief washed over her. The person that had broken into the house was still inside, so what were they doing hiding in the closet? It would be common sense to get out of the house, so what in the heck were they doing?

Sitting in the corner of the closet, her mother’s face was a mask of fear. Her father sat down next to her mother and whispered to Mo’Nique to get his phone from the bedroom table. As she crept into the bedroom, she heard footsteps nearing the door. She quickly slipped behind the curtain as she grabbed his phone just before going still. The mysterious man was walking toward the window, and she could almost feel her heart jump out of her throat. She quietly prayed for the man to turn around. Abruptly, he turned around, and a wave of relief and gratitude washed over her. She silently watched him walk toward the door and past it. He was supposed to go out the door. Why was he heading toward the closet?

As the mysterious man opened the closet door, she could see her little family cowering in the corner like scared orphan children awaiting their fate. With her adrenaline pumping, she hadn’t noticed that her dad had a cut on his arm that was still bleeding, forming a pool on the wood floor. Everything happened too fast. Her parents, once full of vitality and joy, lay still with no life. Her brother’s vibrant glow was gone, replaced with a cloud of darkness. He had gone with them, leaving her alone. At that moment, her whole world diminished around her, and everything shattered like the glass bowl in the kitchen. She could feel hot droplets like lava sliding down her face. Through her tears, she could see holes in each of their heads, their essence oozing out of them. Out of her lips escaped a stifled sob, followed by cries of agony, begging for her family to return.

The man turned around and made his way towards her. Her mom had always kept a glass vase full of fresh flowers on the table next to her side of the bed. Mo’Nique grabbed the vase and swung with all her might, aiming for his head. As he staggered back and fell to his knees. She grabbed the chair in front of the desk, smashed the windows, and barreled out head first. As she fell down, she contemplated what would happen if she fell on her head. Would it be so bad if she fell and shattered all her bones? She felt like a china doll but had no choice but to be as tough as a diamond. She landed on her feet with a thud and took off without looking back.

She could hear the disoriented killer staggering behind her, the bullets ricocheting off nearby trees. Her body screamed and ached as she continued to run for her life. She frantically searched for anywhere to hide and finally came across a hollow tree. As soon as she found the opening, she dropped on all fours and crawled in. She shriveled into the darkness, trying her best to blend in and become the tree.

She heard leaves crunching as the murderer came near. He stumbled several times then stood searching all over, then ran to his right. She hadn’t realized that she was holding her breath until she could no longer hear his footsteps. Astonished that she still had her dad’s phone in her hand, she pressed the home button and was greeted with a picture of her family and herself from a family trip, all of them holding up the Hollywood sign.

Her parents’ smiles were genuine and looked like they didn’t have a care in the world while her brother was a frozen statue of pure joy and innocence, the usual twinkle in his eyes still there. Feeling something break inside her, she sat there, laughing hysterically for what seemed like hours, cradling her dads’ phone to her chest as if it was all she had left in the world.


 

Her eyes peeled open to meet fluorescent lights and white tiles in patterns. She glanced around the room to discover where she was, and her eyes froze at the doorway.

Mo’Nique's mom rushed towards her and grabbed her hand as her dad called for a nurse. Her eyes stayed glued on them as cries of joy escaped the mouths of the people she had just witnessed depart from the Earth before her eyes. She sobbed as she gawked wide-eyed at her parents.

“What’s wrong, honey? Are you hurting?” her mom asked. Mo’Nique couldn’t utter a single word. She had thought she was all alone to fend for herself in the world.

“I…I thought you were gone, that the killer had somehow…” Her voice trailed off as she began to replay the unthinkable in her head all over again. How were they alive? Was the killer still out there?

“No, honey. We’re perfectly fine. In fact, you saved us all,” her mom replied. Her dad silently glided to the opposite side of the hospital bed as tears ran down his checks.

“How, though? I saw…I saw him shoot you, and I could have sworn…” Again, she couldn’t bring herself to utter the images that came to mind.

“No, my sweet girl. While her was heading for the closet, you hit him on the head with the vase while hiding behind the curtain. That gave me enough time to get out of the closet and shoot him with my gun in the arm and leg, but not before he…”

“Not before he what, Dad?”, she questioned.

“Not before he shot you, honey,” her mother answered in a wavering voice. A deafening silence echoed through the room.


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