journey to fulfilment

The House of Tiny People

  1. A house of tiny People and other short stories…

    Waking up was no longer the pleasure it used to be for Ayomide.

    There’s a fleeting moment when she’s whole again but it evaporates faster than shear butter melting from the impact of a sun.

    Then her lids that drooped with sleep would snap violently open from the piercing cry of a baby. It has been the same, every night for the past one week.

    There were times she wondered if the baby was next to her on the bed, but no baby was near. After all, she has been childless for over ten years and it led to her husband leaving her.

    So why the hell does she keeps hearing a baby’s cries. Is someone trying to taunt her?

    Sighing and blinking a few times to get her eyes adjusted to the darkness around her, Ayomide, searched for her phone on the bed.

    When she found it, she clicked the power button to check the time, which read 2am; the exact time this baby disturbs her sleep.

    She would not close her eyes and force herself to sleep. No, not today, not this night. She would trace where the crying came from and tackle the woman who kept abandoning this child to cry and disturb her peace.

    “I’ll give her a piece of my mind,” she muttered.

    But your neighbour doesn’t have a baby.

    A small voice whispered in her head but she ignored. Pushing from the bouncy bed, she found her slippers, made her way out of the room and out of her apartment.

    The cold night air was the first thing that welcomed her as it seeped through her black and white polka dot sleep shirt.

    For a second, she wished she wore a sweater before stepping out, but it didn’t matter.

    Wrapping her arms around herself, she stepped out her compound through the iron gates and glanced down the eerily quiet street.

    Of course, not a single soul lurked around the neighbourhood. The street was dead silent except for the baby’s cries and the soft buzzing from the flickering street lamps which cast a soft glow on the wet asphalt ground.

    Why don’t you just go back inside?

    Shut up! She told the voice in her head as she tried her best to track the side of the street where the crying came from, and as if the baby knew someone who cared enough was coming to talk some senses into its mother, another sharp cry startled her.

    “That’s it!” she grunted.

    Clenching her small fists, Ayomide looked at the large, beige painted house and caught the sight of a shadow in the window above.

    For about five years, the house has been empty with no one living there.

    How come someone stood behind the curtains? Was her eyes playing tricks on her?

    No! It must be the woman with the crying baby. She concluded.

    She crossed to the other side of the street where the crying came from and followed it.

    For a few seconds, she felt she was in control, but as she walked towards the house, she noticed the house became farther and her head became lighter.

    It doesn’t matter, she told herself even though somewhere in her heart, she knew something was wrong.

    After what felt like eternity, she stopped right at the front of the large house, heaved an angry sigh and walked through the already opened gate.

    Only when she entered the house, she found the whole place filled up with people who weren’t like her.

    Ayomide glanced backwards towards her house, but all she saw were large trees crashing and lashing like drum sticks in the hands of a giant. Her house was gone! Through a sickening swirl of fear, a shiver ran over her skin. Where was she?

    Swallowing hard, Ayomide returned her gaze to the millions of people swarming towards her.

    From the rouge pink patches on their brown skin, to the abnormal way their eyes were placed at the sides of their head, she could tell they weren’t just humans.

    What kind humans carried a mat, a dull lit lantern and cried like babies?

    She never believed in these superstitious stories. In fact, she brushed such stories aside. Now, it seemed too crazy to be real.

    Her head started to swirl in a daze as she tried to run from these tiny monsters, but they were too close.

    As if something controlled them, their eyes lit up in crimson red as they started towards her.

    Ayomide’s mind raced with the stories they told about Egberea bush baby. It was believed they weren’t violent creatures but the anger in their burning eyes said otherwise.

    She kicked at them as they surrounded her while crying.  Her head spun around as if they were too heavy for her body and with one long sigh, she slumped to the ground.

    Till this day, Ayomide was never found and the house tiny people vanished from White gate Avenue.



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