I turned to the other side and moaned, the springs below my mattress squeaking as I did so. The loud laughter and conversation coming from the next room had long ceased. Nighttime sounds soon eased my body into much needed sleep. Mondays were my most hectic days, with lectures running from 8 am to 6 pm with only a one hour break. Tuesdays were much better but 7 am classes had never been my turf. I thus needed to get as much sleep as possible.
I tossed and turned, trying to sink myself deeper into the feathery embrace of sleep. My wrapper turned with me and soon, half of it hung downwards. I was in a brightly lit room, cracking melons and jokes with my mum. We still had a long way to go and it appeared to be evening. Kate had that pinched expression she always wore when hungry. Mum made a joke about her looking as though she needed the toilet. I laughed heartily, breaking off half of a melon seed with its chaff in the process. I simply put it aside and continued with the others. Kate was obviously too hungry to retort. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a blazing fire the colour of an overripe orange. It was puzzling since we had electricity supply. I turned my head fully to look at it and almost fell off my bed.
My eyes widened in a blend of shock and fear. The surface of the wooden table in the centre of the room was on fire. I jumped down from my top bunk with an agility I never knew I had. As I ran to our balcony to get some water, the scream “Fire!” flew off my mouth. I returned with a bucket of water and doused the flame, Fiyin and Jane from G60 hurriedly entering in my wake. Ugo would have to forgive me for using the water she slaved to fetch. Our room was seven floors up. Toyin tried to salvage our blackened books that were on the table while Ugo sat with her back to her pillow, still rubbing off sleep from her eyes. At least, she was not repeating the sleeping feat she displayed when Mr. Queens visited.
The table was badly burned, its rich mahogany colour now ashen black. Its smoothness was now something of the past. I felt bad for it. Apparently, the little candle we all forgot about the night before had cruelly reminded us of its power. I made my way to the back door, passing Fiyin and Jane as they kept asking no one in particular what had happened, hands on hips. I got the broom that was behind the door and started sweeping down the casualties. A second later, I was screaming my head off and holding a blackened, acrid smelling version of my Blackberry Q10.