Lightning Strikes Once (again)

Keywords: Kola, Ebi, Police, Thugs, Mother, Lightning Strikes Once (Again), Drama, Malice, Love, Kola, Ebi, Free Short Stories

She clung to him, desperate for her warmth and tears to anchor him back to life. His body, cold and lifeless, lay against hers, and she couldn’t bear the thought of him slipping away like this—he deserved better, so much more. Her tears fell freely, her wail echoing the weight of her heart. She couldn’t let him go, not like this.

… Two days earlier …

“Kola, how do I look?” Ebi asked, her voice tinged with nervous excitement.

She wore a simple yellow gown that accentuated the warmth of her brown eyes, her curly hair neatly pinned up in a bun, paired with understated yet elegant slippers.

“You look like wife material,” he replied with a grin that reached his eyes.

“Are you sure? I haven’t met your mother yet, and I really want her to like me.”

“You’re perfect, Ebi. There’s nothing not to like about you.” He wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her close, his breath warm against her neck.

“Kola, we’re not having sex right now.” She playfully pulled away. “By the way, next week, you’ll have to meet my mother too. She’s tired of just hearing about you and wants to see you in person.”

“Of course. I’ll be on leave next week. But are you sure your mother will like me?”

“You’re perfect, Kola. What’s not to like?” She kissed him, her lips lingering as if to seal her promise.

Her childhood had been a series of cruel trials. Her mother had entangled herself in an affair with a married man, resulting in her birth. The man’s wife, driven by vengeance, waged a relentless campaign against them. She manipulated her mother’s boss to fire her, pressured the landlord to evict them, and even orchestrated violent attacks. Her father tried to intervene, securing a new job and home for her mother, but his vindictive wife always found them. Each time, she would appear to gloat, her threats hanging heavy in the air. By the time Ebi turned fifteen, her mother had finally given up, severing ties with her father and relocating to start anew.

“Bad things don’t happen to good people more than once,” her mother had always said. While Ebi wouldn’t label her mother as a saint, she clung to this motto. No matter the hardship, she would repeat the mantra to herself—“Bad things don’t happen to good people more than once”—and find the strength to rise again.

Now, she was on the cusp of happiness with the man she loved. As they entered the grand sitting room, Ebi’s eyes widened.

“Wow, your parents must be loaded,” she whispered.

“You have no idea,” Kola chuckled.

“What if they think I’m a gold digger?”

“Stop worrying about the small stuff.”

He drew her close as they settled on the settee.

“Sorry for keeping you waiting. Your father is on his way down. It’s a challenge getting that man out of bed these days,” Kola’s mother announced, descending the stairs to greet them.

Ebi rose, knelt, and greeted her with a bowed head. “Good morning, Mummy.”

Kola’s mother smiled warmly at her son, embracing him. “Kola, it’s been ages! You finally came home! I’ve missed you so much!”

“E kaaro, Mummy. I missed you too. But you’ve neglected to welcome my fiancée.”

“Will I not greet my son first?” She laughed, then extended a hand to Ebi. “Welcome, Omm…”

The two women locked eyes, and a jolt of recognition passed between them—the witch whose venom had tainted her life versus the plague that refused to fade.

“Ebi! Omo Comfort! You’re my son’s fiancée? Ah! You and your mother have driven me to the edge! Is this your plan, to torment me even now?” Her voice cracked with fury and despair. “You thought I didn’t know where you lived? You thought I’d just stand by while you schemed to take my son? Over my dead body!”

The sight of the woman who had introduced her to agony dredged up long-buried memories.

Ebi’s mind raced back to when she was fifteen, the trauma of being assaulted by thugs, and the cruel satisfaction in the woman’s voice as she gloated. Ebi trembled, her emotions a storm of fear and rage. She turned to Kola, the son of this tormentor—her half-brother, the offspring of the two people she despised most. Grabbing her bag, she rushed toward the door, but his presence, his repulsed reaction to her hatred, stopped her in her tracks.

Ebi packed her bags frantically, her heart racing. She had to escape Kola, retreat to her mother’s house, and plan yet another flight from her past.

———————–

“So, you’re my half-sister?” Kola’s voice pierced the chaos as he entered.

Ebi remained silent, her focus on her task.

So you’re just going to throw everything away because of this? No one needs to know about our connection, Ebi!” His voice escalated in frustration.

She zipped her bag and dragged it toward the door, but Kola blocked her path.

“Kola, the last thing I need right now is to see you. Leave! Just leave me alone!”

“You’re not going anywhere,” he pleaded, his voice breaking.

Seeing him cry, Ebi’s own anger began to dissolve into sorrow, and tears streamed down her face.

“Kola, you don’t understand. I have to leave before your mother destroys me.”

“Please, I don’t understand any of this. Just explain it to me. I want to understand.”

All the weight of her hidden pain, everything she’d kept bottled up, surged to her lips. Her legs gave way, and she fell into Kola’s arms, the tears flowing freely as she recounted every detail of his mother’s cruelty. Together, they wept until exhaustion claimed them, and they fell into a troubled sleep.

“Kola, I don’t feel safe. I’m worried about my mother,” she said, her voice trembling. “I need to go home.”

Kola opened the curtains, letting in the sunlight. He had spent the night holding her, unable to reconcile the image of his mother with the evil she had inflicted. Yet, he couldn’t doubt the woman he loved. There had to be another explanation.

“Let’s go…” Ebi’s phone rang, jarring her from her thoughts. She answered reluctantly, setting the call to speaker.

“…Ebi, Ebi, did you miss us? Did you really think you could escape forever?” The voice was unmistakable—the man who had stolen her innocence. “I’m on my way to your place now. Oh, and your mother asked me not to hurt you before she died. Isn’t it amusing? Even as an old woman, she was quite tight. We’re looking forward to reliving the good old times with you.”

The couple stood in stunned silence long after the call ended, the gravity of the threat hanging heavy in the air.

 “My mother is dead,” Ebi choked out, her voice breaking as tears streamed down her face. She sprang toward the door, desperate to escape, but Kola blocked her path. He dialed the police, his hands shaking with urgency. “They’ll be here soon,” he assured her, though his voice betrayed his own fear.

Even as the sirens wailed in the distance, Ebi felt an icy dread. The police had rarely offered real help in the past, and the weight of uncertainty pressed heavily on her. Her instinct screamed to flee, but she desperately wanted to believe that Kola’s promise meant something.

Then she heard it—the voice of the man who had haunted her nightmares. His voice was followed by a series of gunshots, and the door flew open.

“Ah, Ebi, it’s been a while. I’ve missed you and your delightful company. So, this is the man you’ve been sharing your time with?” The man’s sneer was palpable as he dragged her away from Kola. Kola fought back with all his strength, but he was hopelessly outnumbered by the five men who had come for her.

“The police are on their way!” Kola shouted, his voice desperate.

“I see,” the man replied coldly. “It’s a shame, Ebi. We had planned to have a little fun before you joined your mother.” With that, he pushed her to the ground, levelled the gun at her and pulled the trigger.

“Omo! You shot her son!” one of the men exclaimed.

Kola had acted in the nick of time, taking the bullet meant for her. Shocked by the unexpected turn, the thugs fled, only to be intercepted by the police at the gate.

The thugs, cornered and panicked, quickly turned on Kola’s mother. Initially, she denied any involvement, but as the evidence mounted against her, her defiance waned. When the police informed her of her son’s death, her sanity shattered. She bragged about her misdeeds, vowing to continue her reign of terror on the lives of all her husband’s mstresses.

~~~~~~~~

Six months later, in Abuja…

“Mummy, here’s your tea,” Ebi said softly, handing a steaming mug to her mother, who was now confined to a wheelchair. The thugs’ assault had left her mother in a dire state; they had thought her dead and left her behind.

“Thank you, dear,” her mother replied, her voice weary. “But I’m growing tired of sitting at home all day. Can’t we go out today?”

Ebi shook her head, her hand resting protectively on her swollen belly. “You know we can’t go out like that. I’m eight months pregnant.”

The End

Shout out to Mustapha Garba for giving me this title as a challenge. This is one of my favourite challenges

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