Shortest chapter ever! The chapter just disappeared and I had to type fast again to update for you lots... each paragraph!

ADAMAWA STATE, NIGERIA.

Frustrated at forgetting the date and what is about to go down, Fatima didn't bother calling Asabe for the morning. She wants to make it to the kitchen, somewhere in the house she hasn't been in for more years than she could count. There was never any need for that but she realised that acting handicapped won't help anyone. She wants to try her tea herself that morning to stop the growing trouble.

She stood from her tulip chair and stretched, her watermelon shirt raising up high and showed her belly button. She sighed, her lower abdomen is trying to harry her morning and thank God for the weekend or she wouldn't know what she would've done. Not that her attendance in class matters but the record has it that she's never made it a day without going to school and she is not about to break it.

Making her way to the kitchen with great difficulty, she stopped to look around the place like a foreign country meant for aliens. Silver is everywhere that it is starting to make her eyes bleed for no reason. Why are they trying to force silver in the place? She doesn't like it!

Tile and patterned linoleum flooring. The dishwasher there looks like something branded and released a week ago. It's so like her father to want what is the best and he might've even have someone bring it down before the launching of it. She won't be surprised, everything he does screams how wealthy he is.

The refrigerator there also looks sumptuous, Northland Master Series. There are many silver hangers clawing on equally silverware ranging from different stainless pots to pans. A coffee maker is right beside the refrigerator with boiling new pot inside, she is not into coffee currently so she dismissed the thought and looked down into the fridge to see so much colors of food choking up the whole space.

Cheese and sausage roll, potato salad, chilly potato cakes, chicken satay kebabs, Cornish pasties, Mediterranean salad and many other variety of food. Fatima stared, she is hungry but that is not what she is there for and she better get that far more important thing before things turn on her. She looked at the right hand of the fridge where there are so much greenery and she knew she would find what she is looking for in that part of the fridge. Her eyes searched for mint leaves, grass leaves, cardamom balls.

Taking a pot from the ones hanged there, she made her way to the gas and turn it on. It was actually a huge luck that she managed to turn it on, she doesn't know how to do that to save her life but it worked miraculously. Her smile vanished when she remembered that there are more to do than just turning on the effing gas. She hunted for the kettle of pure boiling water and added into the pot, browsed for box of cloves she's seen Asabe using once upon a time, she found it on the edge of a counter. Get the gunpowder and green tea from one of the cabinets, it was also a wild guess.

After adding up everything inside the pot, she closed it and sat down on the countertop, her eyes fixated on the gas but her mind is so far away. She doesn't know how much time had passed but when she jumped off her reverie, the water remained small inside the pot, she added a little and watch as convection current takes place. The lower particles that are hotter from the surface merging to bring down the upper particles and together they continue boil in racing speed. She smiled, they have no worries whatsoever.

When it's done, she turn off the gas and started haunting for a mug. A sound from the door stopped her from her mission and she meandered to see who dared interrupt her. A lady stood by the door in maids outfit, her eyes wide, about to fall off their sockets as she stared at her as if she is not supposed to be there. Fatima look right back at her coolly, her depleted eyes gave nothing away but the girl didn't have it in her to look away. Maybe she is amongst those that never encountered her in the mansion but heard her name in each crevice of it.

The girl's face is set in square, her blunt nose seasoned with a high nostril earring, her wide pink lips currently gaping open that Fatima made a little wish a fly should enter. Her face is fairer than her hands, feet and even neck, acne taking in almost half her face. Is this what they call bleaching? She's never seen something like that or maybe she has but never took notice on why their skin is different in one part or the other. Wow, how could they ruin their complexion by themselves for the sake of brighter face?

She couldn't keep quite, her mouth blurted. "Why is your face lighter than your neck? Are you sick?"

The girl looks startled, her eyes widening some more if that is possible. She looks about ready to bolt from the room if Fatima says any other thing so she shook her head, the girl won't answer because she is clearly embarrassed. Why do something that will make you keep quite in public? She is just curious as to why her neck is so dark, it's almost black but her face is fairer than the inside of her hand. Fatima stared again, she cannot help letting out a few giggles at the funny way some people could treat life. The girl is so young around seventeen or eighteen.

Instead of getting her more into the tight spot, she asked. "Do you know where Asabe keeps mugs?"

The girl's head jerked readily with a nod before she accelerated inside and opened a cabinet, removed the one she knew is always meant for Fatima and handed it to her. Brunello Cucinelli porcelain coffee cup, an expensive mug Fatima bought for herself just few months ago online. She asked the girl to pass her something she could sieve her tea with before she dismissed her from the kitchen. She did everything herself, small amount dropping on the countertop but she's got enough in the cup for her.

She strutted out of the kitchen turning lumps of sugar inside her tea only to stop for a few seconds when her lower abdomen gave a tight pain that lasted for thirty good seconds while she held still like a statue. When it passed, she trudged forward in hope to reach her room so she can lie down, take her tea and medicine then maybe sleep but fate isn't by her side because she dropped to the floor when another onslaught befell her like an avalanche, her head hitting the lush carpet beneath her feet as the world swayed and blackened with agonizing slowness.

Ahmad just walked into the house to ask why his mother isn't answering her phone when he saw Fatima lying on the floor. Brows furrowed, he searched around for anyone but found the place empty, rushed forward and check whether she is conscious or not. She isn't but her pulse is still working, he carried her bridal style to his car parked right outside the front door and still running because he intended to make his visit short and leave for station. But another situation had to rise, this lady is to be taken to the hospital.

On his way, he called the hospital to have the emergency room readied for them. When he arrived, he carried her out from the car the same way he placed her in and slid through the automakers sliding doors that lead to a waiting room full with new waiting chairs, few patients with varying degrees of injury –broken bones, bloody nose, scrapes, bruising– and others just looking around blankly –reading through magazine, using phone to surf the internet, taking coffee– while waiting for the news of their loved ones. Ahmad gratefully placed Fatima on the stretcher they've rushed to him.

"It's Fatima, Doctor." He heard one of the nurses telling a doctor that just walked out wearing stethoscope around her neck, adjusting the gloves around her hand. Then slid her mask a little to show her fair face and lip gloss marred lips.

"Hurry up, we don't have time to waste." And they rushed to the emergency room, the stretcher following closely behind the woman's fast pace. From the looks of it, they know about Fatima's condition and it doesn't look too good.

Ahmad contemplated whether to leave the hospital or wait for their feedback. Battle transpired between his mind and heart, he sat down at the far end of the waiting room after his mind has won. He should stay at least for a few minutes and see whether they will request something from him or even ask him to settle the bills.

He watched the place around him thinking about how many corpses were taken out from this hospital and how many are about to be taken away. A stretcher zoomed past him with paramedics attending to the victim, doctors in scrubs and lab coats hurriedly rushed from one side of the hospital to another, few clerks taking information. Some are strolling with their wheelchair, worried family scooped on a lonely corner waiting for undoubtedly bad news. The sounds of babies crying, mother murmuring soothing words filled the place. Rattles of newspapers and magazines, someone throwing up and moaning in distress, a few other praying loudly.

Ahmad sighed, he should be in the station by now but that hooligan brought him to the hospital. Just when he is about to stand up and leave, one of the nurses that rolled Fatima's stretcher to the emergency room walked out and seem to be strolling directly to where he is, he sat back down and waited patiently. He should've just called his Aunt and told her what is going on then leave the matters in her hand but now, he will have to wait for her to arrive if he calls her now. Good job, he couldn't think about it sooner.

"Sir, the doctor wants her father here right now." The young nurse reported, her voice a bit husky for a lady but it suited her.

"I'll just call them." With a curt nod, she yaw around and hurried back to the emergency room to save a life. And Fatima's life is at stake, she's never been in such situation.

"I'm here at the hospital with her, she's in the emergency room and her father's presence is needed. I'm about to leave anyway." He explained into the phone to Aunt Adeelah, his mother still hasn't answered any of his calls so he didn't both calling her again and wasting more of the little time he has.

"Oh no. I'll be there with him any minute, please hold on before we arrive." And she hung up the phone, Ahmad had to wait again for how many minutes before he makes it to the station? He's got some serious issues to go through today at the office and the sooner he gets there the better.

He decided to call Constable Ashiru and tell him about this little accident that will delay their plans for the day. "I hope nothing is wrong, Sir?" He asked, voice thick with respectful concern.

"No, everything is fine. I'll be there in about thirty minutes. Make sure the others are out with the mission before I get there. And yes, if the commissioner comes, tell him about the meeting taking place in the capital territory."

"Yes, Sir."