Here's another of my stories. Please upvote if you like it, comment too. Criticize, most importantly.
I heard a loud bang, something whizzed past my ear, a man in front of me lay on the floor, bleeding his guts out. In the next second, he ceased to live. I laughed at the scenario, this was just like in the movies: bang, somebody dies. I really needed to get one of those.
But everybody ran. Their reason was unknown to me. Just to be clear, I was a seven year old boy who knew nought about guns or war or death or Biafra. I heard the name on the news a few times my parents forced me to listen, but I knew the name reeked of danger, and death; some degree of brute force. But neither of these concerned me, not even now when these Igbo traders were running here and there shouting "Free Biafra ooo" before being gunned down.
The prettiest of sights was this pregnant lady. I think the shock of the gunshots forced her into labour, but she ran. It was a hilarious sight for me. When the bullet hit her back, all I heard from her mouth was "My baby", like she even saw the thing! I then saw her belly deflate gradually as though she was unconsciously excreting the baby from her anus in death. Beautiful sight to behold 😂😂.
"Emeka!" A familiar voice shouted, bringing me back from my world of live horror, experienced in 3D. I loved horror, so I did not want to leave so soon. But this was my mother's voice, so I hearkened.
"Come here fast. Run!" She shouted. She crouched behind an overturned table that used to carry fruits. Now bulletholes designed the table so much so that one would think she was being targeted by these soldiers.
I walked hesitantly and slowly to her. I was downtrodden, I did not want to go home yet. So many people had died, I lost count. Blood flooded the streets like it had rained blood, the sands were soaked and red. The stench was foul, sweet, but foul 😂😂. Maybe it was true that men wet themselves while they died. I knew because I heard it in this horror movie I saw sometime. Now the stench of urine and raw flesh and blood filled the air. Yet, people ran. I got to where my mother was.
"Get down! What are you thinking standing out there like that? You're dumb but that shouldn't affect your head!"
"But I don't want to go home now." I wanted to say, but like she said, I was dumb, literally.
She nudged me towards the little bushtrack leading home. I nodded.
"We run after the count of 3. Okay?!" She shouted. I nodded in the affirmative.
"3, 2, 1, let's g..." Her voice trailed off. One bullet had pierced the table so hard, it got out on this side and incised my mother's forehead. Just a graze, it was, but she bled profusely.
I knelt there crying. She would probably bleed to death. She was unconscious now, I hoped she would not die. She was small, so l attempted to drag her body towards the bush track, in vain. I stood there pulling and crying, then I felt something small, hot and heavy fly through my chest. I fell and felt blood leaving my body. My trousers felt warm, I don't know if it was my blood, or I had wet myself.
