Fume — Hive

The room felt wrong. As my eyes flickered open.

It wasn't hot. It wasn't cold. It was just wrong like the air on earth wasn't oxygen anymore.

At first, I blamed it on stress. Of course, stress has a way it sits on my chest for weeks, heavy like an unspoken prayer, and makes me dizzy.

I lay there on my back, staring at the ceiling. I wondered if it had an idea of the kind of night I was having. My head felt thick. My thoughts moved slowly, as though they were wading through water.

I tried pushing myself up. Maybe sitting up would clear the fog in the room. But as I tried the room tilted.

“Okay,” I whispered to myself. “Easy, Zee.”

Immediately, it felt like my mind became active, focusing on the source of my problem. Outside, just by my window sat a generator humming like a restless insect and spitting smoke like it was its curse. Whoever made the statement that Lagos never truly sleeps wasn't wrong. It wasn't just the people. There was also another thing that was always awake and demanding fuel. And that was generators.

I had heard the generator earlier and seen the amount of fumes it spat out just before I retired to bed. I felt it was too close to my window but I was too tired to complain. Too tired to knock. Too tired to phone the neighbor and scared to become that difficult neighbor.

I had forced my eyes that night to sleep, little did I know that that would be a grave mistake.

I had woken up to my present predicament - the ceiling looking farther away. The air in my room no longer feels safe. My chest was tight, like someone had pressed a pillow gently but firmly against it. I tried to take deep breaths but each deep breath returned with a strong cough that scraped my throat on the way out.

Now fully aware of what was going on. I could see the fog in my room caused by the generator fumes. The harsh smell came slowly to me. Now it didn't smell like generator fumes anymore. It was more toxic now. Painful and sharp at the same time.

I began to fight for breath, My heart began to knock. My eyes are blurry. My head banged. I was dizzy like I was gradually slipping away to the great beyond.

I must have inhaled the fumes all through the night.

I tried to stand.

But my legs disagreed.

I sat back on the bed, breathing faster now. Trying to force oxygen into my lungs. Panic crept in quietly, the way it always did. Not shouting. Just whisperings of fear and a lot of what-ifs.

What if you faint?

What if nobody knows?

What if this is how you just disappear?

What if this is how people die in their sleep?

I tried moving my hand, reaching for my phone on the bedside table. For the first time, it felt like my nerves were dead. But I didn't give up. When I finally grabbed it, the screen felt too bright. I squinted. No missed calls. No messages. 10:17 a.m. in the morning. Because of the fume, I didn't even know it was morning already.

I thought of who to call. My brain suggested no other than Mama Chinedu.

Her door was opposite mine. She would answer quickly and get to me on time. I forced my fingers to dial her number, but it went dead at the last minute.

I tried to inhale deeply again. To think of my next step. To stay alive. But with each breath, my chest burned. My body felt dead.

That was when fear finally raised its voice. Screaming at the back of my mind.

I closed my eyes and forced my legs to move. They felt numb, but somehow, miraculously, they moved a bit. I fought my nerves to stand up while holding onto the wall. But as I finally stood the floor felt soft, maybe it was my bones being brittle, like it might give way under me. I took two steps toward the door and spun again, harder this time, throwing me to the floor.

“No, no, no,” I cried, breathless.

Just then I heard a loud knock on my door, hard and urgent, followed by Mama Chinedu's voice

“Zerah! Zerah, open this door now!”

Relief crashed into me so fast it almost made me cry. But I still needed to get to the door. Sitting there on the floor, I went on my knees and hands, like a baby learning how to crawl. The ground still felt like it was sinking. Then I shut my eyes. Since I was conversing with every nook and cranny of my room, I was going to crawl to the door with my eyes closed. Maybe that way the floor wouldn't sink.

“ I-I’m coming,” I said, as little as my voice could go.

Little by little, I crawled to the door like a caterpillar. I finally got to the door and tried reaching for the lock but my hands were a little short. I needed to stand up.

I sat there, staring at the lock. Praying to gain control of my nerves at the same time, calling Mama Chinedu's name to be sure she could hear me, and letting her know I heard her knock.

With the will left in me, I pressed my body against the door using it as a wedge to lift my body. I quickly reached for the lock and unhooked it. Immediately, Mama Chinedu pushed the door open just in time for me to collapse in her arms.

I felt fresh air rush in, cold and clean, like mercy. I took quick deep breaths.

Mama Chinedu stood there with me in her hands. She was dressed in her night wrapper and had unkempt hair. Her eyes stared at me with visible fear.

“Oh my God,” she said. “Zee, that smell. Have you been inhaling that?”

I couldn't reply. I was just happy for the fresh air that smelled like life.

She didn’t push further. She dragged me with all her strength to the couch in the living room. Making sure I was comfortably seated. She rushed to the window, pushing it wide open. Then she made sure to keep the door wide open too.

“Breathe,” she ordered. "Breathe slowly.

"It's the generator,” I said, my words tumbling over each other. “The fumes are too much. And it's been on since last night. I felt dizzy. I couldn’t…”

“I know,” she said firmly. “Save your strength. I even smelled it from my room. The whole compound is filled with its fume. My husband has gone to force them to turn it off.”

She knelt in front of me, holding my hands, rubbing them the way mothers do when they are trying to bring you back into your body.

“Just breathe with me,” she said.

One breath after another. Gradually I felt my chest loosen, little by little. I felt my nerves had taken control of me. My strength gradually returned. The room steadied.

Outside, I could hear Mama Chinedu's husband shouting at the owner of the generator and threatening to arrest them. Soon, the generator went off. Mama Chinedu closed her eyes briefly, as if thanking God without words.

"Immediately I saw you beep at me, I knew something must be wrong. Thank God I came on time."

She stayed with me until my breathing returned to normal. Bringing me water to drink and rubbing my hair.

As my fear faded, I looked at Mama Chinedu and said

“I'm sorry for disturbing you,”

She smiled, tired but warm. “You don’t disturb people who love you.” Then she stood up. "Leave the windows and doors open. Let me make breakfast for my husband. He will be leaving in the next few minutes. I'll be back."

I did as she said. Even with the fog gone I wasn't willing to take any more risks.

[Image Source](https://pixabay.com/photos/smoke-swirls-abstract-smoking-1001664/)