Like A Thief In The Night

You yawn, stretch and get up. You look at your watch, the time seems to be frozen at 4.30 AM or so but you are not sure, it is too dark in the room and your eyes haven’t adjusted to the light yet. You feel lighter on your feet for some reason, almost like you are floating on air. Your mind wonders over some of the mundane tasks you have planned for the day, you sit down in the living room and try to concentrate on the TV, but you can’t. You feel light headed, probably still sleepy, you think. The house help walks past you towards your bedroom but does not as much as acknowledge your presence, strange since she is usually so well mannered, you make a mental note to talk to her when she comes back out. Barely five minutes later a piercing scream comes from the direction of the bedroom, you recognize the voice of the help, she rushes past you, flying up the stairs, you cannot make what she is saying, but you rush into the bedroom anyway. There is a large shape on the bed under the covers, apprehensive but resolute you reach down and yank the cover off the form.
You feel your gut heave, this cannot be, you get a feeling like your head is swelling and filling up the room, you let out a scream but there is no sound. You look down at your feet and they really are not touching the ground, as realization and fear hit you all at once, you begin to cry but there is no tears; for the form on the bed is you, sleeping, never to get up again. RIP Uche Okafor, the world has lost a generous spirit, one of the few people that truly gave and expected nothing in return, you will be sorely missed.