In a gait that could be likened to a zombie’s, Silvia walked home, it seemed like her body had lost some precious content. Only in a matter of an hour, her face had turned pale and colour-drained. She felt like crying but her tear-duct seemed to have been atrophied by shock, the shock of her life, and her heart raced in slow paces.
Geoffrey had stolen her heart on her first day at the university. She had drooled as she watched him chat with some other guys. His muscular build, his high height, his deep voice, his laughter, his smile, his swagger, she had completely fallen for everything. He was famous in the school for his incredible dexterity in soccer, and his charming looks were a compliment. Geoffrey’s department never lost a soccer game when he was in charge. His teammates nicknamed him ‘Mara’, after the legendary Argentine soccer whiz, Diego Maradona. Silvia became his number one fan, never missing any of his games. She’d always hoped that a day would come when her existence would be of essence to his existence. But then, that day- that black day- saw all her hopes dashed into a bottomless pit.
It was just as every other day on the pitch. Geoffrey was in top form, his magical feet dancing in unfathomable rhythms, his fans chanting praises in his name, ladies screaming at the top of their voices, Silvia wearing a jersey customized with the name ‘Mara’ and her face blazing radiance.
He moved from halfway past his goal, and began his magic, beating one, two, three, four, five, and six, and hammering the ball into the net. Goal! His teammates chased after him as he ran to nowhere in particular with joy, but then, he shockingly suddenly fell to the ground and did not shake a muscle afterwards. His teammates got to him to find that his eyes where totally white and iris-less. They became alarmed, and called for the attention of the medical team who came running in almost at once. The cheers died down as they were replaced by fears, and the fans were jittery, ‘Just what had gone wrong?’ many wondered. Silvia’s hands trembled as they were clasped in a tight lock. The players were bleak-faced, some knelt down shivering as they prayed, others only looked, overridden by shock and fear.
The medical team tried to revive him, but all efforts proved futile. Geoffrey’s eyes remained white, and his body got stiffer. He was confirmed dead, and was carried away in an ambulance. They had said it was a cardiac arrest. Many of his teammates lay on the pitch, crying like babies. Some, like the opponents, stood with hands akimbo, and heads bowed in grief. Some had their eyes almost popping out of their sockets as what had happened seemed so unbelievable. Such was the situation with the fans too. Silvia couldn’t shake a muscle for minutes. Everything had happened in a flash. Just a few minutes ago jubilating spirits overwhelmed the atmosphere, and now the reverse was the case.
The game was suspended till further notice, and in sluggish gaits, and with heavy hearts, everyone trudged home.
Silvia finally got home. She sat on her bed, and for the first time in what seemed as ages, she spoke, “he’s dead, he’s gone”, and then the tears began running down uncontrollably