Atikah tried to concentrate on the images in the television but her eyes kept wavering back at the phone in between her trembling hands. The muscles in her stomach were tangled into a very hard knot and her thoughts and feelings were muddled. Each time the phone buzzes, her heart skips in her chest as she checks her phone with her fingers shaking and their pads damp on the screen. Every time, disappointment clouds her face. Why won't he call her? Her shoulders slumped, an unconscious pout formed over her lips. She wants him back. She needs him. Whatever she had done in the past was due to uncertainty and silliness. Now, she knows what she wants.

Unaware of her sister's curious gaze at her, she dropped the phone next to her lap and out of habit, done out of nervousness, she started to scratch her neck.

"You have been looking at that phone like you are expecting a call." Hauwa spoke, looking over at her sister. "You appear restless." She pointed out her observation.

Atikah dropped her hand from her neck. Her chest shuddered at the heavy expel of air from her nostrils. "No. I am fine." She tried not to meet her sister's probing eyes and suspicious look.

"You look troubled." A smile tickled the corners of Hauwa's lips, her eyes glistened with pleasure for seeing right through her sister.

Atikah chewed at her bottom lip, dread crawling to her throat. How could she have been so dumb and maybe selfish? Jafar does not like her. He can never like her. "He loves her." She blurted out, a thought that had lingered in her mind for weeks, since the last time she saw them at the hospital.

"What?" Hauwa laughed out.

"Jafar loves Osasere." There was a weighty breather. Hauwa stared at her, her eyes encouraged Atikah to continue. "No matter what I do, I will never be able to have his heart." She lowered her head, dejection gloomed over her. She was pursuing what would have never been hers. "I am regretting shutting Mustapha out. He was a nice man."

Hauwa kept her eyes on her Atikah. She saw Atikah's thoughts. The lady wants Mustapha back. She tried not to laugh. How wonderful? She had never thought she would witness a day like this. She knew a day will come when her sister will regret letting go of such an amazing man and here it was. Both sisters were like two sides of a coin. Atikah was an extrovert, has a lot of friends and more outgoing than Hauwa. Hauwa was the introvert, very careful before she befriends anyone, cautious in what she does in life and prefers to stay in door as long as she got light, television, internet and her phone. Their way of dressing contradicts one another. Atikah does not use the headscarf and dresses in whatever pleases her but Hauwa wears the headscarf and clothes that covers her up. But then, neither of the sisters will not miss their prayers for anything especially Atikah.

"That will make you a player." A frown settled on Hauwa's lips. "I don't like what you are doing." She blurted out with a disapproving look in her eyes. "You are toying with Mustapha's heart just because he is soft at heart and loves you."

"I can't help but want him back. He was a good man. I have pushed away a gem." Regret caused her eyes to turn misty. "He has not called or messaged me for days."

"You still enjoyed his attention despite how you treated him." Her sister teased with a mocking laughter.

"This is Amina's fault." She grumbled out. "I should never have listened to her."

Hauwa sat up, crossing her legs beneath her. It is time her sister saw what she had been blind to. "Do you know Amina has feelings for Mustapha?"

"That's not possible!" Atikah cried out just as she had expected with her eyes wide with disbelieve.

Hauwa hissed at her elder sister's naivety. "You might be older than me but you are really gullible, ya Atikah. She tries to hide it but fails terribly at it."

"I won't believe such a thing."

"Leaving him was her chance to have him and she succeeded in making you end what you have with him. You have lost a good man, dear sister."

"Amina will never do that." Her friend's uncertain betrayal pierced her heart like a knife.

"Love make us do the unthinkable." Hauwa sang out. "I do not know how to make you see the truth but surely, a day will come when it will come out in the open."

"Will he call back?" Atikah asked, her voice tiny with ambiguity.

"I don't know. He might and might not but I hope he does not." Atikah glared at her. "You need to be taught a very good lesson." She grinned at her.

"Maybe." Atikah mumbled.

"If you want him back then give him a call." She suggested

"Pride, Hauwa. Pride will never allow me to call him." Atikah sighed, exhausted.

-----

Someone else would scream. Another would raise an alarm but he was calm, taking precise strides towards her. Terror gripped him, arresting him in its web. He could feel the quick stomping in his ribs. The slight shake of his fingers. His steps were cautious, taken one at a time, bit by bit. Lola sat in the closet, her back against the shoe rack, quivering as she stared down at the distance between the broken glass and her wrist. Although she appeared motionless, he could see her shoulders wobble, hands quake.

"Lola." He called, his voice quiet as he took another step closer.

"Don't." She spoke, her voice firm. It sounded broken, shaken and low yet he heard her. He sensed the warning in it as if telling him if he takes a step closer, she would do the impending deed.

"Lola" He whispered, a hand held out. His eyes dropped to her bleeding wrist. She was losing a lot of blood and needs help. Damn! He was too late. "What's going on?" His throat was dust dry. He could barely swallow and his mouth requested for water.

He knew she has mental illness. He does not know the details but he knew she has some things she was fighting. Intermittent explosive disorder (IED). Hallucinations. Nightmares that terrifies her. Are those not the reasons she uses those pills? Is she still using them? He can't remember seeing her sneak to take them like she used to.

"He is gonna get me" She drawled. He frowned. "I was trying to shut his voice out yet he keeps talking in my head" She shook her head as if she was trying to shake off his voice.

"He is not here anymore."

"He is here, Joshua. He has come for me and I will pay for every pain I have put him through. Those were his words." She continued. She had her eyes planted on her hand. Her hair fell over her face obstructing him from seeing her face.

"He is still there rotting in prison."

"I kept fighting but he was always there in my dreams until he came alive. He won't leave me." She was shuddering. Her hands did the same. He took another careful step closer. She was weeping. Her voice was hoarse and cracking. What has brought about this tonight? "I had sat over that balcony five years ago." Her voice was low. He heard her heavy breathing. There was a breather which lasted for a long time. He watched her, ready to stop her when she tried something stupid. "I had jumped but they caught me. They saved me. They should have just let me go."

"They did that because they loved you and cared for you. You meant a lot to them, Lola." Who the hell are they? He does not know who she's referring to. "You might have meant nothing to him but many care like I do." He gobbled, his voice soft and persuasive.

There was stillness in the air. Not a sound could be heard either near or far away in the distance. The breeze had not whispered. The trees or grasses did not stir. The peculiar calmness, instead of relaxing his mind, heightened his fear. He kept looking at her bleeding wrist. She's wasting a lot of blood and needs to be tended to.

"I killed her." Her voice came without warning through his messed up mind. It was dispirited with a tinge of dryness and a hint of misery. "He knows. He got evidence." Her voice was a murmur that travelled clearly through the dark into his ears. "And he would expose me." She bent her head.

"You got nothing to worry about. A long as I am here with you, he won't get you".

She said nothing and he deliberated on what's running through her mind. There would be a lot of chaos in her mind which is the reason why she's where she is today. Guilt knifed him. He should never have left her. He should have been home. Maybe his presence would have bettered things. How wounded is she? How bruised is her soul? The cloak of misery came to rest on him.

"Please, look at me." He begged, proceeding to her. The silence came as his voice disappeared into thin air. "Please?" He repeated. She did and it took him everything not to exhale. Her face was wet with tears. Slimy liquid ran down her nostrils over her lips. She sniffled. Her eyes seized air from his lungs. He had never seen them so lifeless and wounded. He saw a woman who is lost in the mess life had created. "Will give me the glass, please?" She did not move. She just stared at him, her bottom lip quavering, more tears streaming down. "Will you, please?" He took another step closer, holding out his hand, careful and hopeful she could see how much he pled to be trusted. He won't hurt her. He can never do such a thing.

"You don't know me." She muttered. Her wet eyes met his. They were red, fearful and empty.

She was right. He thought he knew her but with this he realised he only saw a part of her she wished to show him.

"Lola, please give the glass to me." He iterated, halting few meters away from her.

He studied her intensely not taking his eyes off her for a second. Wrecked with emotions, she looked back at the fragment of glass.

No. Don't. He pleaded in his mind.

She looked back at him. Slowly, she lifted her hand. He nearly breathe out. Lola's hand shook as she placed the broken piece in his waiting palm. He tried not to close his eyes with relieve when it met his palm. He kept the glass aside.

"No, can you get up?" He pleaded.

She did as she was told, holding the shoe rack to support her tremulous body. He reached out to help her. When she was on her feet, her knees buckled beneath her. He caught her before she reached the ground, both hands held her tight to him. He held her close to his chest like she was a toddler who needed cuddling and comfort.

"You will be fine." He assured, unaware of how he constricted her in his arms. "You did just right." He ran his hand up and down her back. Her face was buried into his neck, hands clasped the cotton material of his shirt. She was a trembling mess. She could barely breathe as she wept against him.

"I was scared." She managed out through her sobs.

"I know but you did great. I got you anytime."

-----

Lola's hands were motionless and icy in his. He ran his thumb over the bandage wrapped around her hand. She had not slashed her wrist. Instead, blood dripped from the hand that held the glass to her other wrist. He saw a broken embellished china in the closet. He deduced that she might have smashed her hand against it and its pieces had sliced her palm. The blood had flowed through her fingertips to the glass held by the wounded hand. Joshua examined Lola's face. She had stopped crying, her face and nose have been wiped clean by him. She was not alright. It was there in her eyes. The woman needs professional help. She needs to be in the hospital tomorrow talking to whoever her psychiatrist is.

Lola saw the worry in his intense stare, his curiosity. They were all there. Questions. Fear. She does not want him to look at her with the one she despises the most. Pity. It was how they had all looked at her years back. Pity. Dread. They had backed away one after the other. They had walked to her cautiously just in case she flips out, they would be able to run before she hurts them.

Lola looked down at their joined hands. He held her hands with warmth. She felt his compassion in them. Slowly, her lips curled up as she lifted her eyes back at his worried face. "Thanks." She muttered, truly grateful.

That smile was forced. Joshua observed. After she had cried which she was still ashamed of, he had led her to the room and settled her on the bench. He wiped her tears and told her to blow her nose dry then switched on the lights she had turned off before cleaning her injury. He cares a lot and Lola thinks of herself as a crazy woman he would have to put up with.

"For what?" His mouth curved gently. His hand came to rest at the side of her face. The tender strokes he started were assuring and soothing.

"Your help." She glanced down again then back at his face. "Joshua." She leaned forward to grasp his shoulder.

He felt the tremor in her hand. "Any problem?" He asked without peeking away from her face. There was no use making her know he could feel her fright. It would just make her cower away.

Her eyes were restless just as she was. They wandered. There was trepidation in them. It built, growing just the way it did inside her. "Forget whatever happened tonight. It never happened." Now, her voice rose.

He said nothing as he got to his feet. He left her to get a glass a water from the jug on her dresser then came back to her. "You need this." He gave her the water. She took a quick look at him then back at the glass of water before collecting it.

Lola disliked the silence as much as he did. She had not imagined her night with him to be this way, awkward and distant. But it seemed as if fate got a different plan for them. She heaved a sigh then kept the glass away. Lola hove her eyes to look at him. He was looking down at her. Joshua raised his brow, a silent question at the gesture. She looked away.

"I am sorry." He apologised, still studying her.

She need not to be told why he was apologising. He had played a very bad joke on her and he deserved whatever she did to him. "You deserved it." She looked at him with slightly raised brows.

"It won't happen again."

"I hope so because I will not hesitate to do that again." He chuckled at her openness and zeal to do it again if he pulls such a thing on her. "A candle lit dinner?"

"I did that for myself. I do not know what I was thinking. It just happened and soon, I was setting the table. Forget about it."

"Okay."

He does not know what he loved about her. He just knew he likes her too much for whatever he feels to be an infatuation. Being with her crawls excitement through him. Holding her wants him to hold her closer. The part of her she had revealed tonight had been a part that shone through the cracks of her strong façade. It softened his heart for her, made it yearn for more of her. She was right when she said he does not know her. He really does not.

Joshua took her hand, opened her palm before he lowered his lips to it. The kiss he planted in it was soft and light. She has nothing to worry about. He will always be there for her, always would be by her side. It continued to her wrist. It lingered where he felt her skittish pulse. There was no much problem for her to carry alone. They would share whatever weights her shoulders have to bear.

When he looked at her, his eyes were heavy with sentiments. They were darker in the light. Lola was not sure about what she saw. Whatever he gazed at her with had her heart tumbling in her ribcage. "Lola." He swallowed, embracing her hand with his. "Are you sure you are alright?"

Her muscles stiffened. She understood his question. "I am fine now." She gave a nervous smile. "I do not know what got into my head then. I must have been thinking too much."

"To nearly cut your wrist?" His voice was hushed.

"I was not going to cut my wrist!" She barked then whizzed out of his hold. Nervous, she gathered her jumbo braids with her good hand and pulled them back.

"You were going to if I had not come"

He was too calm. Just too calm. Her shoulders were shaking. Lola balled her palms. "You are wrong." She turned back to look at him. "I was just....just.....trying to clean up the broken china."

He frowned, slightly taken back by her answer. She would never accept the fact that she was just about to commit suicide. Again? His eyes held doubt. What sort of answer is that? Cleaning up a broken china? That's so hilarious. "Okay." He gave in. "If you say so."

"Josh, it is not what you think." Her voice grew calm. "I was never going to kill myself. I like life too much to want to end it." She joked which he smiled at.

"I know babe. I believe you. I will be back." He left for the bathroom

When he got back to the room, he found her on the bed, curled into a ball. She was rocking back and forth, her arms secured around her shivering body. He slipped next to her, pulled her closer into his body and began to make a conversation to ease her until she fell asleep. He gazed at her form in bed, tucked under the cover. She had nagged about mosquitoes and requested him to buy insecticide. Aside from that, she had complained about been a little bit cold. He had switched off the air conditioner and switched on the ceiling fan at a low speed. She had also requested him to reduce the brightness of the light which he did because she can't sleep with the light on.

Joshua looked down at the folder he held in hand. Since his assistant handed it over to him months ago, he had not opened it. He was scared, scared of what he might find in it. He sat down on the sofa and prepared himself for what was to come. Lola left Nigeria at the age of eleven. It happened few weeks after she had beaten her schoolmate to coma. Before then, it had been documented that she had killed her cat, massacre it to death out of rage. He paused, a finger beside his mouth. She killed her cat? She has never spoken about having a pet. Her schoolmate died few days after waking up from coma. Surprisingly, the family had not filed a case on it. That's fishy. He mused.

Before her departure from Nigeria, she had few aggressive flare-ups. Her family members were not sure what it was but the sudden outbursts and violent acts like breaking things, expensive and cheap, was abnormal. She left Nigeria to stay with her maternal grandmother, who's already late, in Los Angeles. Lola was taken into rehabilitation where it was confirmed she has intermittent explosive disorder (IED).

IED is the swift outburst in a ferocious or brutal way. Those with IED are unable to refrain violent yearnings leading to dangerous incidents, property damage or recurring stated hostility in forms of temper outbursts or tirades. Throughout the period they become aggressive, they have no knowledge of what they are doing. They act on the stimulus of their fury with no reflexion of the aftermath. Most times, honest remorse is shown after the flare-up.

Symptoms of IED are tightness in the chest, tremors, raged thoughts, increased energy, tingling, head pressure, hearing an echo and palpitations. IED is caused either by the environment the person grew up in, genetics or there may be a variance in the way serotonin, an essential chemical messenger in the brain, works.

Lola's first psychiatrist has suggested that the cause of her IED is due to the way her serotonin works. The psychiatrist said she can't solely blame her parent's marriage for it because tests had shown that it's the way her serotonin works. Joshua can't tell if IED was a lifetime illness but it can be controlled by medications and rehabilitation.