[Bloodlust] The Cycle : 8

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Literature Text

Now Akin didn't wake up in the sense of his sleep coming to an end. It was more like he entered a heightened state of consciousness, leaving him alert yet not awake. A state of semi-consciousness so to speak. He could smell the reek of chlorine and medication. Funny, he had always thought hospitals smelled odd but this was the first time he had ever thought they reeked. He could also detect the faint smell of... of... was that body odour? and it was getting closer, stronger. Someone was coming. He opened his eyes and the smells begun to fade away. The ethereal sense of the room he had had, he saw manifest. Just as he had perceived it in his semi-conscious state. Unsure of what this portended, he decided to focus on the nurse who had just walked in.

How are you feeling? Doctor says you should rest. He will come later and if everytin is okay, we shall dischahge. Dis is your medisin: Penicillin, Aspirin, Folic Acid, and Vitamins. Dey say your moda will come with more from home. Take.

Akin diligently took the medication. Odd he thought. I can no longer smell the B.O, and it no longer reeks. Once the nurse was done checking his vitals and he had ordered some breakfast off the hospital menu, he got up to go to the bathroom. He was glad for the private room and bath, he hated having to use the shared floor facilities. Still, getting this must have cost his parents a fortune. He would have to remember to thank them when they arrived.

Later that afternoon they did. Akin thanked them, took his drugs, and devoured the Ghana High Commission Jollof rice and stew that they brought - equally quaffing the bottle of sprite that came with it. The doctor stopped in to do his final check up, gave Akin a clean bill of health, and the family were on their way back home again. Only to find that a week later, they were back in the hospital once more. They were back the week after that, and the week after that, until the hospital doctors came to the conclusion that Akin needed to be put under observation for a week so they might find the cause of this cyclic rapid cell degeneration.

That week was full of discoveries. Akin noticed that now the hospital seemed to reek all the time. The faint smell of BO seemed to be a constant odour permeating everything, rising and falling depending on how close he was to another human being. When he closed his eyes, he could still sense just about everything in his room - down to the mosquitoes when they buzzed by. The smells didn't pose a problem for long since his nose soon got used to its new environment, and Akin made a game of using his third eye as he called it, to navigate the ward with his eyes closed and catch mosquitoes in his sleep. His parents stopped by every evening on their way back from work and once or twice his close friends stopped in as well. Akin wanted to tell his parents and his friends of his new found 'powers' but he didn't want to jinx his good luck, and he certainly didn't want to show them while hospitalised.

For the St. Nicholas doctors however, it turned out to be a week's worth of wasted time. For Akin didn't experience a crisis at all that week neither were there any noteable changes to his blood, urine, stool, or vitals that spoke to a possible cause. If anything, Akin was the healthiest he had ever been. In fact some of his vital statistics were reading more like the average healthy adolescent, than the average sickle-cell sufferer. So at the end of the week much to their chagrin, the doctors discharged Akin from the hospital.

Akin couldn't wait to get home. He had already planned how he was going to make the housemaid Victoria assist him in his experiments to test the limits of his third eye. He was sure she was going to think he had become a wizard, or think he was using juju, or label him with any one of the numerous other superstitions of Nigerian society. Even still, he would experiment anyway. So as soon as she had opened the door and he had finished the precursory greetings and assurances of wellness, he began.

Come. I want to show you something.

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Novel: Bloodlust | Chapter: The Cycle | Page: 8

I could eat some Jollof rice and stew right about now myself.
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