Get out of my head! I say get out of my head!' he shouted as he walked down the corridor of room 261 an 262. I was first shocked when i heard the voice, so deep, harsh and crazy: i thought someone was about to, 'kayode, it's you.' i said stretching my left- hand to pull him back. 'what's wrong with you kayode, who's in your head.' i added, but he didn't care to look at my face, he just kept on with his words; 'get out of my head, you are stuck in my head, just get out and get out!' this made me fear but i was still sure, he was just acting, because as a first-class and best student of dramatic art department, he must surely have been practising his.... 'who's in your head?' i asked again. 'she's in my head, and she doesn't want to get out, she doesn't want to....' 'who!' i questioned with my voice now rising above his.
'she told me she loved me, but she cheated on me, she said we would be together forever, but she tore me into pieces, now she has refused to get out.' he said then he began to cry like a little child being deprived of the joy of eating a buttered biscuit, but no, this was more than a biscuit, this was more than a child's play,this was a matter of.... 'she was your girl friend, right?' i inquired. 'she was my life, she was my home, she said she loved me, but it was a lie, she was life, she was my home, she cheated, she's evil, she cheated, she's wicked....' 'with who?' i moved closer to him, placed my hand on his neck and tried to pet him out of his misery but he.... 'get your hands off me!' he shouted at me, and swinged his hand as if to give me a crazy slap.
Immediately restrained myself from him. 'that's how you all start, that's how she started too, she pretended as if she was my friend, as if she was there to console me when I was in trouble and laugh when joy kisses me, no..., not joy, her kiss was joy, her eyes were happiness, but she cheated on me, after all we had promised each other, she still cheated on me, i don't want friends anymore. There are no friends in this world, there are only enemies....'
As he continued with his circle-headed speech, i began to weep, not for myself, not for any other thing, but for everything in general, for love, which was the crown of all things in life; love had lost one of its own to an odium of heart- break. I began to cry bitterly, with muccur oozing out of my noise. As a medical student, even if i wasn't, a layman would have known he had begun to go crazy, but this craziness was in a strange way and with a strange cause, i never knew love could hurt as much as it gave happiness, until I saw kayode that day; he had been broken in every aspect due to the trauma of an heart-break and that made me wonder how much love he had insured in the lady that could have bent him so much as running him mad.
I looked through the caged door of the room where kayode was kept, looking at him in a white uniform as he sat on the ground. He stared at me as if he had never seen me in his life and when i asked the doctor about his condition, he
said that he had being like that ever since we brought him in that day. He would not talk to anyone, not to his dad, or mum, not even his relatives: he only talked to a ghost about one thing in the wake of the night,'get out of my head!' and nothing more.
I began to cry once again, as he stared at me continuously, because i knew that ghost was his hatred, it wasn't even the lady who broke his heart, it was hatred, manifesting itself through is feelings and that was when I began banging my thoughts against my heart, 'o Lord, he never would have been like this if only, his heart was never broken, if only he never fell in love.' i shaked my head with pity as I left the hospital with a thought roaming in my mind, ' I don't want to be Mad! Though love is true and real but with all these pain, will I ever fall in Love?'
A very good question. So many are hurt by love because they expect too much; an ideal that can never be reached. Kayode probably was very intelligent. Intelligent people seem to be the most prone toward insanity.
Your story is well-written but could stand a good editing for spelling and some word use, punctuation, etc.
I loved him. At age twelve he touched my heart with his music. At age twenty he captured my heart when our eyes met as he sat on a stage and sang Four months later, he fractured my heart with his refusal to allow us to stay together. At age seventy
Love is universal and not limited to the most perfect among us. In this collection of romantic short stories and poetry, love comes to those who are decidedly imperfect, who possess very real human flaws, scars, and challenges. Awaiting us as we are.
