Love, Lucy

Dan's heart thudded in his chest, a blend of excitement and nerves churning in his stomach. He placed his hand on his chest and rubbed it, as if that would pacify his heart and prevent it from bursting, if it was going to. The thought that this was all just a vivid dream crossed his mind more than once, and he half-expected to wake up at any moment, but he knew better. This was real, and the mix of disbelief and anticipation left him in a daze.

The car jolted, snapping him out of his reverie. The vehicle he had booked on his phone hit a pothole, shaking the chassis with a loud thud. He looked out the window, feeling the smile still stretched across his face. The journey was over thirty kilometres from his home, and he could hardly believe what he was doing; going to see a girl. Not just any girl, but Lucy. He let out a breath, almost a laugh, realising he'd been grinning like an idiot for most of the time.

Her voice echoed in his mind from their conversation the previous night. "There’s something I’d like to tell you," she had said, her words trailing off into a nervous pause.

They had talked about their sex lives. It wasn't their first time sharing intimate details, but last night was different; they had gone deeper, shared more, things they might have kept guarded before. And then she said it. She wanted them to have sex. The offer had floored him, but his answer had come quickly, almost without thought: Yes. They had set the date for the next day. It was going to be on a Saturday, when neither of them had to work. There was no reason to wait.

But her sudden pause had lingered, even after they made their plan. Dan had wondered what she wanted to tell him and how it would affect everything they had set in motion. He hadn't expected what came next.

"A few months ago," Lucy had said, her voice soft and vulnerable, "I tried to kill myself." Dan had gone still, his fingers tightening around his phone. She told him how, after being dumped by her boyfriend, the weight of everything had pressed down on her until she couldn't breathe. She had swallowed a handful of pills, but almost at once texted a friend in a panic. The friend had rushed to her place, breaking every speed limit to get there, and had taken her to the hospital. They'd pumped her stomach and kept her until she was stable.

She told him how things had spiralled from there. The friend had called her mum, and that's where things got complicated. Lucy spoke of the weeks afterward, her mother hovering over her, her life no longer her own as everyone watched and waited, terrified she'd slip away again. She'd felt trapped, suffocated, her body no longer hers to control. And then, Lucy had asked Dan what he thought: did her friend do the right thing by telling her mother?

The question had been a sucker punch, and even now, Dan wasn't sure how to answer. He stared out the window, the driver's silence, a reminder of his own solitude. "What could possibly go wrong?" he mumbled under his breath, his words a fragile attempt to quell his anxiety.

He thought back to when he had met Lucy, three months ago at a wedding. He hadn't wanted to go, but his parents had insisted. It was some distant family member he barely knew. He had shuffled through the crowd, a stranger among supposed relatives, nodding at faces that seemed vaguely familiar, though he couldn't place a name to them. As was his custom, whenever he was amid strangers, he had both earbuds in his ears, playing music, even though the sound from the speaker at the event was loud enough to drown out whatever he was listening to. He was also on his phone, scrolling through one social media app to another, smiling occasionally whenever something funny caught his eye.

He raised his head from time to time to check out what was happening in the reception hall, and some of the activities were fun enough to catch his attention for a while. The newlyweds were playing a game of "who does what best" when two women took the seats to his right. A quick glance in their direction, a nod to acknowledge them, and he was back to his phone. He couldn't help but notice that the older woman gave him a puzzled look, and he wondered what that was about, though he knew, almost immediately, what was running through her mind.

She was in her thirties, of medium height, and good-looking, but nowhere near as striking as the younger woman she came with, who Dan assumed was her daughter.

Dan noticed that the woman kept stealing glances at him and knew the question was going to come soon enough.

"Ògúndìran?" The woman asked, giving his knee a little tap. "Ọmọ Tọ́lá?"

Dan smiled, looked up, and smiled again, before nodding in the affirmative.

Dan bore an uncanny resemblance to his dad and just like everyone else who had ever encountered his dad but not him, they would immediately know who he was and always began by mentioning his surname, then his dad’s name just to make sure their question was understood.

"I knew it was you," the woman began to say, "and I’m going to guess you don’t remember me, do you?"

Dan shook his head.

"Of course not," she said disapprovingly, "I blame your dad. My name is Tope, and here is my friend Lucy."

She then introduced Dan to Lucy and explained what relationships connected both.

"It’s nice meeting you," Dan said, finding it difficult to take his eyes off her now that there was a reason to look.

"It’s nice meeting you as well," Lucy said.

Lucy had been the highlight, a bright spot in a sea of unknowns. He remembered how she had looked in her lavender dress, her laughter standing out against the polite chuckles of the people around her. She’d found him sitting alone, marvelling at how isolated he felt despite being surrounded by "family." Her smile had made him feel less invisible.

"Where are your parents?" Tope asked.

"I’m not quite sure."

"I’ll be back," she said and walked off.

Dan had asked Lucy how she had become friends with someone way older than she was, and she had explained that they were co-workers. Tope had mentioned the event in passing, and Lucy had said she would like to attend.

"There is mostly nothing for me to do on Saturdays, you see," she said.

They spent a lot of time talking that day and had exchanged numbers before parting ways.

He was now about twenty minutes away from her house, according to the live map on his phone. The area they were driving through was an estate, with lots of decent-looking houses. Dan thought the area was quite nice.

He then began to wonder if the advice he had given to Lucy the previous day was the best he could have given to someone in that situation. But he quickly reminded himself that that was the way he felt about life, and he wasn’t the worst about it.

To be fair, he remembered saying, "Your friend did what he thought was right. But I think he should have given you a heads-up, although you would have objected to it."

"Although, the one thing that fascinates me about death is that people don’t cry for the dead because they died," he had continued. "They cry for the dead because they are going to miss them, and to me, that simply highlights how selfish we are as humans. It might surprise you to know that attempted suicide is a crime in a couple of countries, and I never cease to ask the question ‘why?’"

"Really?"

"Yes! And it is incredible that something like that exists, but the logic behind it is quite simple to figure out. The government doesn’t want a productive member of their society to kill themselves because they benefit from an individual being productive. So, they’ve gone ahead to threaten their citizens against doing something like that."

Dan had no idea if that part was true, but he told himself that it made sense. He guessed that such laws would have been influenced by the religious nature of those that lived at that time, but he didn’t want to take the topic there. He knew she was quite religious and hinting that she was on her way to hell might just destroy the plan they had for the morrow.

"Those close to you don’t want you to kill yourself," he continued, "not because they think you’re having a wonderful time on earth, but because they are benefiting from you, one way or the other. I’ve always thought death should be celebrated, regardless of how one arrives at it. But that’s just one part of me speaking. Would I be sad if someone close to me dies? Yes! I’m just as selfish as any other person out there. More! And not even knowledge can drive that away. Not in me anyway. So, what I am trying to say is that I'm quite happy that you’re still around. I do not know if that makes you feel better."

Dan shook his head, the memory of that moment tangled with where he was now, in this car, on this journey. He glanced at the driver, aware of his presence but finding comfort in the stranger's disinterest. Everything was on the edge, uncertain, but he could not help the hopeful feeling that this trip, and this girl, no matter how crazy she seemed, might be worth it.

Dan thought he had given quite an impressive speech, and the fact that their plans had not been cancelled only reinforced that impression.

The vehicle came to a stop, and he could see the brown house she had described to be hers. He paid the driver and alighted from the car. He walked for a few seconds to the adjacent side of the road where the gate was and sent her a text saying that he was around.

He noticed that a curtain on the first floor had been pulled open slightly, and just then he received a text from her saying that she was on her way down.

Lucy was fully dressed, contrary to what he had told her the previous day. He wanted her to come out in something revealing, but she had declined, citing the fact that her neighbours might be around. He still thought she looked beautiful.

"How was the journey?" Lucy asked as she opened the gate.

"It was quite nice," he replied. "No traffic."

"Probably because today is a Saturday. Come on in."

She led him towards the stairs and then up to her room, where she opened the door with a key and gestured for him to go inside.

"You can take off your shoes inside the house," she said as he bent to remove them.

He went inside the living room and removed his shoes. He then looked around and was quite impressed with what he saw. The room was neat and organised, with soft lighting. There was a small bookshelf on one side, filled with books of varying genres, and a potted plant sat in the corner, giving the space a touch of warmth.

A television mounted on the wall caught his eye. It was one of those smart TVs, sleek and modern, and he noted the way the black screen reflected the soft light in the room. Beside the TV was a small shelf that held three picture frames and a game console. Dan walked over to the shelf, picking up one of the picture frames. It was a photo of Lucy and a group of people, her friends, all smiling widely. He put it back and moved his fingers over the game controller, feeling its smooth curves, as if seeking distraction.

She tugged at his shirt a little for him to turn around. She then hugged him tightly and kissed him on the cheek.

"Do you want anything to drink?"

"Not at the moment."

"It’s really good to see you," she said.

"It’s really good to see you as well."

"Would you like to see me in one of those dresses you wanted?" she asked.

"Sure!" he said, his face lighting up.

"Sure, you do," she began as she walked into her room. "I’ll be right back."

Dan sat down on the couch in the living room, glancing again at the television. He turned it on, scrolling through the streaming options, but did not really focus on anything. His mind kept drifting back to Lucy. He placed the remote down and leaned back, staring at the ceiling, waiting. Time seemed to stretch out longer than he expected.

After waiting for more than nineteen minutes, he called out for her softly and began to head towards her room when he got no response.

He opened the door to Lucy’s bedroom and found it empty. The bed was unmade, a few clothes scattered across it, but there was no sign of her. He looked around, taking in the space: a vanity with a mirror, bottles of lotion and perfume, and a chair tucked neatly under the desk. He called her name again, his voice louder this time, and then noticed a curtain that seemed slightly out of place, drawn over what looked like another door.

He approached it cautiously, pulling the curtain aside. Behind it was a door, the handle slightly ajar. Dan hesitated, then knocked softly. "Lucy?" he called, his voice barely more than a whisper. There was no response.

He pushed the door open, and his breath caught in his throat. He was rooted to the spot for several seconds, his pupils dilating in shock. In front of him was a bathtub. It was filled with water; but not really water, as there was now a lot of blood in it. It was red, a deep, unnatural crimson. The metallic scent hit his nose, and his stomach twisted in disbelief.

Lucy was in the bathtub, her body submerged except for her head, her hair floating like a dark halo around her face. Her skin was pale, and the contrast with the deep red of the water made her appear ghostly. Her eyes were closed, her face serene, as if she was simply sleeping.

Dan's heart hammered in his chest, the world around him narrowing to this one horrific sight. He could not think, couldn’t breathe, as panic clawed its way up his throat. He stumbled backward, almost tripping over his own feet, his voice escaping in a hoarse shout, "Lucy!"

There was a piece of paper on the other side of the bathtub, near her right leg. It lay beneath a bottle of pills, which he saw, when he picked it up, was an anaesthetic. He noticed that the bottle was light because it was almost empty; she had taken almost all its contents in a bid to numb the pain before she cut herself. He turned at once to the note and could not believe what he was reading:

Dear Dan,
I knew this was going to happen from the moment we started talking. No one supported me in this but you, and I thank you for holding my hands through it all. I hope I get to see you again, if the stories of the afterlife are true.
Love,
Lucy.

He wanted to tear up the piece of paper and leave the flat as though he had never been there. Unsure what to do next, he unlocked his phone and thought about erasing any trace of her from it. He opened his WhatsApp account and saw that she had put something on her status. It was the exact thing in the note he held in his hand. He knew he was in trouble, and there was no escaping it.

Moving towards the door of the bathroom, where he could no longer see her body, he sat on the floor and dialled an emergency number.