Am also a freelancer. I've written a lot of other stuffs but this is my first attempt at writing a fiction.
Repogirl, Vonn, Hazardous, Mattkent, D9Ty7, and mods much respect. I prostrate.

Five months gone and am no where close to leaving this tiny, dark and overcrowded death trap. The conditions here are squalid and disease is rife; thankfully, am still healthy or so it seems, who knows? Securing a blanket or a mat to sleep on is a luxury here. When was the last time I had a good night rest? Mtchewww! All thanks to those blood sucking little creatures. Which or what actually is the problem? Is it the mosquitoes or frank insomnia? How can a taunted mind, body and soul sleep anyway.

These and thoughts of what the future has in store for him worried his troubled mind. Lost in thoughts and oblivion of his surrounding, Chike lay aimlessly on the dirty and rough concrete floor at the far end of his new home. He intermittently was brought back to reality by the minor quibbles amongst his prison inmates, this time, they where flinging insults at each other.

'And who is Chike, these noisy idiots? Usman, the constable on duty screamed from the other end of room as tranquility reigned.

'Am here', he heard himself shouting as he drifted his gaze towards the caller.

'You get visitors, oya, get ready', he ordered.

'Visitors?, he thought aloud. It has been two months since someone visited.
'Am on it sir', he retorted, grabbing his torn singlet along as he pushed through his way, forcing other inmates to stir.

Just then, the constable came whistling as he opened the lock. 'Follow me', he thundered.

Chike was led to a dark room. He was ordered to sit on a chair adjacent to a table. There were three other chairs opposite his, the table separating them. The room was indeed dark and apparently, there is no live within. The poorly lite room hide a lot from him as he struggled to delineate certain features of and within the room.

'Who could this be? Mum?, Oby?, Chude? Pastor Jacob?'' he thought.
'Whoever it is, I will find out. Am here already', he assured himself.

Expectant, he stared unseeingly at the entrance as an image approached.
'Mum', he managed to mutter. Even in the dark, he could tell it is his mum. She seemingly has lost a lot of weight, appeared taller though visibly frail. She struggled with each step as she walked towards him.

'My dear', she sobbed. Emotions rented the air as mother and child clung to each other. Tears welled up his, lower eyelid providing the much needed support.

They told you?
When did you leave the hospital?
Was the surgery done?
How are you now?, Chike asked in quick succession, obviously not expecting the answers in that order.

'Chike how are you',? Oby quipped in, distracting mother and son.

Chike's attention was then directed towards the voice. The sight of his mother and sister brought back memories of how it all started.

Following bro

B right back to read this.

Edited.

Just read it. Nice start up, expecting to read what brought abt his calamity. Be sure I would b following you in this.