Crazier

(This is the sequel to the “Crazy” post, which you should read first.)

He spotted me as I aimed the gun and as I fired he positioned my sister in front of him to protect himself. I watched as my sister’s body slumped on the bed and he ran from the room. Of course I hadn’t meant to kill her, maybe injure her but he had been my target all along. I didn’t need any ringing in my ears to push me. I was fueled with rage.

Rage from all the years he had stolen from me, Rage that he had now stolen my only sister from me. Rage that he had stolen the only family I had left. I threw the gun to the floor and picked up a piece of wood, heavy enough to do enough damage, light enough for me to swing with some element of freedom. The ringing started again.

I marched into the house, adrenaline fueling my movements. I expected him to be ready for me; he had seen me kill my own sister. He had seen the look in my eyes, the look that said I was ready to kill. It was a situation of impasse. It was kill or be killed. And I intended to be the killer here.

I took off my heels. I didn’t want to draw attention to where I was and I didn’t want to be slowed by my shoe. I pushed open the door and threw my heels in. No reaction. He wasn’t there. I stalked in through the kitchen, keeping my back to the walls.

I moved in, making my way to his bedroom which was at the end of the house. I would have to cross the space between the living room and the passage way leading to the bedroom to get there. He had turned off the lights. He was somewhere around. Probably lying in wait for me. Hoping to stab me in the back again.

I turned on the lights and made my way to the bedroom. Light reflected on a surface in front of me. In an instant I realized what it was. I turned round swinging the plank of wood I was holding. He was coming at me with a knife and he raised his hands to deflect the blow. The knife flew out of his hand and clattered to the floor a few meters away from us.

He rushed at me, grabbing me and knocking the wood away from my hand. We both tumbled to the floor and I hit the floor hard. He grabbed at my throat and began choking the life out of me. I guess a slow death was what he had planned for me. The world was spinning and the lights were dimming. I couldn’t breathe and my vision was blurring with polka dots in the every corner.

And with my last amount of strength I raised my knee to his groin. He doubled over in pain. Gasping for air, I spotted the knife a few feet away, I crawled toward it. He spotted where I was headed and grabbed my leg. I kicked him in the face. He had recovered quicker than I imagined and he grabbed me, ready to go in for the kill. And I plunged the knife into his side.

I stood up and watched as he bled. I grabbed the piece of wood and raised it down on his head. Again and again and again and again. Till I couldn’t raise my arms again. And then I blacked out.

There was a pounding somewhere. I opened my eyes to see I was in my bed. I was cleaned, bathed and in my pajamas. I moved to open the door and saw that my en suite bathroom had been cleaned spotless and there was the faint scent of bleach.

“Yes, who is it?” I asked, sounding groggy.

“It’s the police”

I opened the door to see two policemen in their black uniforms, eyes cold and mouths thin.

“Yes, how may I help you officers?” I asked with a yawn

“We’re here about your boyfriend. It seems he was killed.”

“Why would you think that?” I ask.

“Because his gate man returned late this evening to find the house and gate unlocked and the house spotless with a faint smell of bleach. Not many gate men can speak proper English, so we decided to investigate. And his claims were correct so we’re looking into what might be his murder.”

“One other thing.” The second officer chirped in. “It seems your sister might have been killed as well. The gate man also said he saw someone who we’ve identified as your sister going in today, right before his oga asked him to leave. So whatever or whoever got to him might have gotten to her as well. ”

With that, I fell on the floor, bursting into tears.

“We made plans today,” I wailed “We were supposed to go out and have fun and cheer me up. I called her but she didn’t show so I thought maybe she was busy.”

With that I wailed even louder.

“We’re sorry ma’am to have disturbed you” The officers left like there was a dog napping at their heels.

The ringing started and I smiled to myself. Maybe I was crazy after all.

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Crazy

Am I crazy? I don’t think so. I just get this loud ringing in my ears and then I do shit that I wouldn’t normally do. Like the time I got the gun. All I remember is the loud ringing in my ears started and I went out and got a gun. I woke up the next morning and saw a gun in my bag. I didn’t have the courage to remove it.
Or like the time I walked all the way to work. I know I walked out of the house and the ringing started and I was at work. I’ve accepted the ringing and I have the good sense to put an earpiece on – even though I’m not listening to music – so that I can feign that the music i was listening to was loud when someone talks to me and I don’t reply.
The ringing started when my boyfriend of 6 – I know, who dates a guy for six years – years broke up with me. We had started dating from our third year in school and then all of a sudden he broke up with me, over a candlelight dinner just when I thought he was going to propose. He didn’t even give me a reason and he left me with the check.
I calmly paid for the meal, got into my car and then the loud ringing started and I drove through traffic like a crazy bitch on heat. After that the ringing continued. It’s been a month now. A month since the ringing started and a month since my boyfriend of – but seriously – 6 years broke up with me.
I was home alone today in my apartment. The ringing started and I got into the shower, shaved, bathed and oiled myself. I sprayed my most seductive perfume, put on my tightest gown that showed off my curves in all the right places and got into my car. By the time the ringing stopped I was right in front of his house.
I let myself into the main gate. I still had all his keys. The one thing he didn’t take from me. I crossed the distance between the gate and the house in a couple of steps – which wasn’t easy in the heels I was wearing – and knocked on his door. I didn’t want to just barge into someone’s house.
After a couple of knocks he didn’t answer, and so I walked round to the window of his bedroom. His drapes were put apart and I could see into the room. There was a girl on his bed – naked – bouncing up and down. I spotted the tattoo on her back and I recognized it instantly.
“Joy”, three letters, the only thing that marred her light skin, the one tattoo that was familiar to me like my right hand. The one tattoo on my sister’s back – the only sister I had and who was supposed to come over today and keep me company.
And then I spotted him. His dark skin in contrast to hers. He was naked too. He sat up and hugged her close, the both of them moving to a single rhythm.
The ringing started and I pulled out the gun and fired.