[ Do we live only to die or does death exist because we live] The lecture hall smelled of chalk dust and lingering sweat when the final bell rang. Most students had already fled, but Joel remained sprawled across his desk, cheek pressed to the cool wood, eyes half-closed. The room felt suddenly too quiet, the kind of quiet that made stray conversations carry.
Behind him, two classmates lingered near the window, voices low but sharp.
"…heard it kicked off near the market again. Guns this time. Proper madness."
"Police aren't even showing up. My cousin said stay off the main road."
Joel exhaled slowly. Class was done. No point hanging around. He pushed himself upright, the long sleeves of his shirt riding up slightly at the elbows as he stretched. The denim of his jeans felt stiff after hours of sitting. He rolled his shoulders, feeling the familiar pull in his back from being taller than most of the desks allowed for comfort.
His phone buzzed in his pocket as he reached the doorway. He had to duck his head a fraction under the low frame. The message was from mavis, his elder sister:
Heard there's trouble near your school area. A fight broke out. Leave immediately after class. Please.
He stared at the screen for a beat, then muttered under his breath, lips barely moving. "That's already what I was going to do."
Outside, the afternoon sun hung low and hazy. He unlocked his bike from the rack, swung a leg over, and pedaled into the familiar route home—past the roadside stalls, the honking okadas, the clusters of people already moving faster than usual.
Halfway down the second street, another buzz. This time a voice note from a friend in the next neighborhood.
"Bro, be careful. Shooting started near the junction. Avoid the main road if you can."
Joel's grip tightened on the handlebars. He could hear it now—distant pops that might have been fireworks if the timing weren't so wrong. He veered left onto a side lane, but the chaos had already spilled over. Tires screeched. Shouts erupted. A car ahead swerved wildly as glass shattered.
Then the world narrowed to heat and impact.
The bullet struck low in his abdomen, a sudden, searing punch that folded him forward over the handlebars. The bike wobbled, then crashed. He hit the ground hard, knees first, palms scraping asphalt. Pain bloomed outward like fire spreading through dry grass—deep, burning, relentless. Blood soaked through his shirt in seconds, warm and spreading.
He crawled behind the overturned bike, breath coming in shallow gasps. His hands shook as he pulled out his phone. Blood smeared the screen.
First call: mavis.
It rang twice.
"Hey… sis." His voice sounded almost normal. Too calm.
"Joe? You okay? You sound "
"I just… wanted to say I love you. That's all."
A pause. "What's going on? You're scaring me."
"Nothing. Just… love you. Always have." He ended the call before she could press.
Next: Mum.
She picked up on the first ring, voice bright the way it always was when she thought he was just calling to check in.
"Mummy."
" darling Joe, my heart! How was class today?"
"Good. Really good." He pressed his palm against the wound, feeling the slick heat, the way his fingers sank slightly. "Just wanted to hear your voice. I love you. So much."
She laughed softly. "I love you too, my boy. When are you coming home? I made jollof."
"Soon," he lied. "Real soon."
He asked to speak to Dad.
There was a shuffle, then his father's steady baritone— the same tone that had once explained pulse points and pressure points during quiet evenings at home.
"Joe?"
"Dad." The word cracked just a little. "Don't let Mum know what's happening. Please."
A long silence. "Tell me."
"I'm sorry." Blood trickled between his fingers. "I'm sorry I didn't live longer. Sorry I'm putting this on you all. I didn't… accomplish anything. I tried, but "
"Stop." His father's voice trembled now. "Where are you? Can you get to help? Someone, anyone "
"It's in a bad place." Joe swallowed, tasting copper. "You taught me enough. I know what this means. A few minutes, maybe less. I can't feel my legs anymore."
"Joe—"
"I love you too." The words came steady at first. Then the burning intensified, waves of it crashing through him, stealing breath. His vision tunneled. "Dad… I don't want to die."
The line went quiet except for the faint sound of his father breathing sharp, ragged, holding back.
"It hurts. It burns so much." Tears finally came, hot tracks down his cheeks. He didn't sob. Just let them fall. "I don't want to go."
His father made a broken sound, the kind no child should ever hear from a parent. "I'm here, son. I'm right here."
Joel's grip on the phone weakened. The world dimmed at the edges. His voice faded to a whisper.
"I love you…"
Silence.
On the other end, his father stood frozen in the kitchen, the phone still pressed to his ear. Tears slipped down his face unchecked. When his wife touched his arm, asking what was wrong, he could only look at her wordless, shattered as the truth settled like lead in his chest.
Joel's time stopped.
Then, slowly, he opened his eyes.
Pitch black.
Nothing.