6-feet down (2)

click here for “6” feet down (1).

“Why?”, “Why does life keep reminding me that I don’t deserve happiness?”

“Why?”  Lamenting on her intense sadness, Funmi re-traumatized, comfortably drowning deep in her emotions.

“I’m gonna die anyways.” “Even if I don’t get to live happily ever after, don’t I at least deserve a chance to be happy before I do?”

“I deserve to be.”

“I deserve-”, bursting into tears “To be…”

Unaware of Fumi’s absence for half an hour, I felt a moment of satisfaction within.

Sigh, “That went well at least.” I said, hissing sharply.

“Make una free person jare…” I continued

“Someone will give you guys all the love and affection in this world, over pamper you and treat you like a queen, yet you will still do anyhow.”

“Take someone for granted, all in the name of love, mtcheeww”

“You won’t vex ni oo, it’s not like you have any other option.” “Enough is enough.” plugging in my headphones to listen to Bachelor by Dbanj.

“She says she loves me, she loves me,

its all a lie

She says she needs me, she needs me,

Please! Am a bachelor making my dough…”

I had clearly given up on love at this point of my life. I have no intention of turning back. My mind is busy renovating itself, erasing every thought, idea, and memories linked with true love. Memories I carried with me ever since I saw my first ever romantic movie: Titanic, while I was still eight (8) years old. I didn’t really capture the entire movie in my head, though; it was just like every other movie I had seen, except there was no violence involved. The fact that there was no ass kicking and face punching got me really curious as to how the movie would eventually end. It all happened so fast and I could suddenly feel my heart beat rising as soon as the ship began to capsize. It was every man for himself at that point. “Are we getting to the action part?” my mind whispered, hoping to see some action. But to my surprise, it was like nothing I had ever seen. The experience of that movie for an eight (8) year old meant one thing only; Never ever board a ship! The endless cry of anguish bursting out of every mother’s lips, the unsuppressed fear of death leading to a widespread of havoc, the turbulent waves of the North Atlantic Ocean, violently sweeping away everything in its path, Ignited tension underneath my skin. My brain cells could not just process the on-going events at that age; it was just too disastrous to watch. Except for the scenes where Jack and Rose never let go of each other. That I could process.

Like a cube of sugar dissolves in water, fading away due to its ideal solubility, so was my heart. Dissolving inside of my body into some sort of solvent, filled with conflicting emotions the second Rose finally let go of Jack. I was only eight (8) years old and my eyes were filled with tears, tears dropping with every blink as the soundtrack indistinctly played in the background. I remember asking my uncles whom I watched the movie with if jack was truly dead in Yoruba.

se Jack ti ku ni? There was no response. That was the first time I will ever hear silence that loud. It was like everyone observed one-minute silence for Jack. Seconds later, they all shouted;

“oo ti ku oo”, trying desperately hard to laugh their way out of the misery. That was the moment I decided I will never let go of the person I happen to fall in love with no matter what. I would do whatever it takes to make us remain together, I will never let go.

Over the years, I carried that decision into every of my relationships with ladies. I will always tell them exactly how I feel; I will often use the word love to express the feelings I have for them, tolerating tons of crap, all in the name of love. I was basically perfect for any girl that believed in love. With every break-up witnessed, I hardly found faults at their actions; rather I would often blame myself, thinking I didn’t do enough, I didn’t pay much attention, I should learn to control my anger and always try to apologize regardless of who is right or wrong. I literarily became a prisoner in my own mind, trapped in my own convictions, desperately searching for someone to restore my freedom from within. After my last break-up, I hastily concluded that enough was enough. “People will ride you when they see you are weak”- Harvey specter. It was a coincidence that I happened to be seeing the Suits series and immediately made Harvey my mentor.

“I really don’t care again.” “I just want to be on my own”.

“Work really hard and probably get revenge on my ex’s.” That was the plan.

After about two hours of waiting alone, I became curious about Funmi’s absence.

“Where could she have gone to that’s taking this long?”

“Or is it because I turned her down she left me hanging?”

“I will just inform her that am leaving already”. I said to myself asking around for her whereabouts in the hospital. With every second ticking away, I became conditioned to find her, hoping she hasn’t done anything stupid. After a short while, I was able to trace her location to the female restroom after I described her Identity to a bunch of nurses, one of whom actually saw her in there. Heading to the restroom with a furious look on my face, I passed by an emergency unit preparing a patient for surgery. Although the patient had already been tranquillized, wearing an oxygen mask while lying on a stretcher heading towards the elevator, about to be operated on; I still had this strange feeling that patient might be Funmi. I ignored the feeling because of the furious feeling that clouded my judgments. I was getting ready to lash out at her.

“Funmi, Funmi are you there?”

“If you are in there, then something must be wrong with you o!” furiously expressing myself, I continued…

“What’s the hell is wrong with you, come out jhoor!”

“Why would you keep me waiting for over two hours, what sort of rubbish is that?”

“I’m leaving already, you’ve succeeded in wasting my day”. I paused for some seconds but there was no response.

“Funmi are you there?” scoping for anyone that would notice me going in. Everyone appeared busy, so I barged in, checking everywhere for her. She was nowhere to be found. I could still perceive the scent of her Eau Fraiche perfume, knowing she was here, checking all the nooks, asking myself;

“Where could she have gone to again?” “Now am seriously pissed!” furiously stating.

I checked the last nook and surprisingly found a piece of paper properly folded on the toilet seat. I noticed the paper looked a lot like the one I used to write down my poem, the poem which I composed earlier, explaining to Funmi the extent of my brokenness and why I couldn’t fall in love again. I picked it up to put in my back pocket when I instantly noticed a different handwriting on the paper. Curious to read what it was, I unfolded the paper, and to my curiosity, it was indeed a note from Funmi.


If you are reading this, then it’s too late.

I immediately became very irritated, thinking she was pulling a prank on me.

Femi, I’m dying. I have been diagnosed with lungs cancer and the doctors said I have less than 4 months to live. I asked you to escort me to the hospital today because every other person in my life is either dead, busy or just too far away. Things haven’t been going smoothly for me ever since I lost my parents in a car accident ten (10) years ago along with every other important thing in my life. I was really looking forward to making my last days count by opening my heart to love again, wishing you would just look my way after almost thirteen (13) years of loneliness. But as it turns out, life has deprived me of falling in love again, even when I know my dying date.

My sight gradually became blurred from the tears gathering inside my eyes. Sniffing and trying to hold back the tears, I continued reading…

I have decided to end my life today! I am donating my body parts; in good faith, as I am already fed up of this life. My existence is of no use to anyone anymore including you and can’t live my remaining days knowing you will never feel the same way about me.

I am sincerely sorry for not saying goodbye this time.

Yours sincerely


It felt as if the entire world was on pause and the only thing playing was my heart beat. I was 8 years old again all over again, only this time, the heartbeats pounded shock waves down my spine. Barging out, I felt as if I had stepped into a war zone and I was completely helpless. Feeling the magnitude of each shockwave down my spine, I became very unsettled, desperately asking the nurses around for her location.

“Sir I’m very sorry, but I cannot give you any details”

“Kindly wait here at the reception for the doctor”.

“What! You understand, she is going to donate her body parts!” trying very hard to explain.

“I need to see her before that happens”

“Sir, I’m so sorry.” “I cannot help you”.

“Please, you need to listen to me”. “It’s very important I find her”, “please I am desperate”. All of my efforts proved abortive.

“You need to wait here for the doctor if you have any problem”.

Understanding of the implications of my delay, I figured it was up to me to create a distraction plot ASAP! Strolling through the corridor, I immediately raised a false alarm for a patient peacefully sleeping the one of the emergency rooms.


“Nurse”, shouting really loud,

“That patient is not breathing I said”. “I think he’s convulsing.”

Quickly leaving her cubicle to attend to the patient, I briskly grabbed the medical log from her desk, anxiously searching for any relevant information regarding the whereabouts of Funmi. Flipping through the pages, I found her name and location.

“Oh no!”, “no”, “No way”, running towards the elevator. It appeared Funmi had been scheduled for a heart transplant on the eight (8th) floor which will begin in exactly less than two (2) minutes and I was still stuck on the ground floor. Verifying my false alarm, the nurse immediately alerted the security guards of my misconduct, describing my identity to them. Repeatedly pressing the elevator button, I became pressured to use the stairs. Dashing to the stairs, I ran as fast as I could, seeing the security guards on my tail. I have never ever run that fast in my entire life. Decelerating on the sixth (6th) floor, I started to feel a sharp pain in my chest. Gasping immensely for air, I struggled to maintain my speed to the eight (8th) floor, as my strength was draining drastically. It was only a matter of seconds before the guards caught up with me. Landing on the eight (8th) floor, I could barely walk to the operation theatre. The security guards were closing in on me already. I staggered my way to the door of the operation theatre, banging with the very little strength left in me. My agitation alerted everyone on that floor except for those in the operating room. The door to that room had to have been sound proof for my banging not to have disturbed them, or maybe I just didn’t bang it loud enough. Peeping through the door, I caught a glimpse of Funmi. She had already been tranquilized, surrounded by medical staffs assumed to have commenced the operation.

“Open this door”, banging as hard as I could,

“Hey! Open this door”

“You can’t carry on with that operation”, I shouted.

“Hey!” desperately battling the door knob. The security guards were closing in on me by seconds and my banging started to dent the door.

“Open this door now!”

The security guards had completely surrounded me, outnumbering me; four to one. Within seconds, I was already bundled in their arms. As they were aggressively dragging me away, [door clicks]. Someone in the operating room had finally opened the door; my efforts weren’t wasted after all. Seeing a nurse peep out of the surgery room, I inexplicably tugged my way through the three specially trained security guards dragging me away, incapacitating the fourth guard with my fists in the process. I guess I was really stronger than them at that point. I was unbreakable.

She’s my wife, I said, trying to catch my breath.

“One of the patients is my wife”, inhaling sharply                                                   “Please stop”. Gasping for air, “my wife…” breaking into tears into tears as soon as I noticed the stain of blood on the nurse’s hands. To be continued…

click here to read 6 feet (finale)

A big shout out to @shilley for his hilarious/inspiring comment on 6 feet down (1). Awaiting yours…Also, would love to wish a loyal reader of the lazypoet’s blog “Olufunmbi” a.k.a FISH-Happy birthday today! Wishing you long life and prosperity.

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15 thoughts on “6-feet down (2)

  1. This is breathtaking, Beautifully written, captivating and will keep you glued to the screen. I love it. I could kill u though fashola why 😭😭😭😭😭😭


  2. This guy wan mk me cry ni sha.., me wey no cry wen my girlfriend break my heart..maybe I need some N2O wen reading d part 3 (anticipating )..ur head too valid.


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