(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.


Where have you been?

As I sat in my KIA Rio driving back home from work, my mind raced off. It had been a stressful day at work. I had been called in out of the blues due to some emergencies. The beauty of my work was that I didn’t have to work until I was needed. Today, I was called into one of the organizations I worked for because there had been rumours of a hostile takeover and my employers needed to prevent it and hence my presence at work today. I was a private consultant and at the moment I was contracted to several well-paying companies.
I turned on the radio to the sound of Rihanna singing ‘Where have you been’, her newest single, the sound of techno beat filling the car. I un-knotted my tie as I asked myself the same question. Where have you been? I had previous girlfriends, but none of them fit the picture I had in my head of the perfect girl. I had seen my parents act with love ever since I was a child, but now my father was dead and my mother tried without success to forget him. I could see she missed him each and every day. I had wanted that since I knew what it was. I wanted the kind of happiness and love that my parents had while they were together. I wanted that kind of love that was supposed to be a myth.
My mother kept asking me when I was going to bring a woman home to her, when she would see my children – her grand-children. My sisters were all married and bearing kids. I was comfortable enough to start my own family she said. She had eventually stopped asking, I remember her saying “I wouldn’t let you kill me, when you are ready I would be here waiting”.
I took a left turn at the next intersection. My stomach grumbled. I remembered I had not eaten breakfast today because of the rushed visit to the office. I spotted a KFC outlet in the distance. I parked into one of the available spaces. I took off my jacket, tossing it into the car seat beside me and straightened my purple shirt and rolling up my sleeves showing off my muscular arms. I looked in my car mirror and thought I looked good for someone who had just clocked 32. I applied some Vaseline to my dry pink lips and brushed my hair. I stepped out of the air-conditioned car, and into the building.
I walked over to the register and ordered myself a meal, and as I turned to take a seat I saw her. She was tall, with chocolate-brown skin, the prettiest face, hair that I wanted to run my hand through and a dress that showed of her beautiful body. She looked me in the eye and I saw her beautiful eyes and I knew she was the one. She was everything I looked for in a perfect girl. Tall, but not taller than me, I liked to look down into a woman’s eyes. Being pretty, was a requirement. But it was the eyes I always looked out for. One requirement was beautiful eyes. I had a thing for beautiful eyes.
We stared into each other’s eyes for a while before I stopped the eye contact to take a seat. She went on to order her meal and sat down at the table opposite me, facing me. I couldn’t take my eyes off her face. She was the most exquisite thing I had seen.
She picked a piece of her French fries and slowly, looking me in the eyes dipped it ketchup and brought it to her mouth. Done putting the fries into her mouth, she licked her fingers in a slow, seductive way. What she was doing was working and she knew the effect she had on me. She then grabbed her bottle of Pepsi and slowly sucked the dark liquid with her straw. She was playing with the straw like a pro showing off her pretty lips and putting suggestions into my head of what I wanted to do to her once I had gotten her alone.
She smiled at me like she had no idea what she was doing. I couldn’t swallow the food in my mouth as my throat instantly felt dry. I gulped a large amount of my Pepsi to force the food down my throat. I decided to play the game she was so willing to play. I stroked my chicken with my expert hands. I dipped two of my fingers into the ketchup and brought it to my lips and sucked on it. Her eyes widened as she saw what I was doing. I dipped my fingers back into the ketchup, brought it out and stroked the chicken with it.
I didn’t care that I was in a public restaurant, I was too far gone with the little game we were playing. I noticed a ketchup smudge on my palm and I brought out my tongue to lick it off, showing her the length of my tongue and what I could do with it. She crossed and uncrossed her leg. I smiled to myself and winked at her. She laughed loudly, her voice rich and melodious. I was hooked and I wasn’t sure she was letting me off anytime soon.
I stood up abandoning what was left of my meal, and noticed the staff staring. I smiled and walked to her table. I placed both my hands on the table and looked her in the eye and asked her the first question that came to my head.
‘Where have you been?’ and with a smile she replied me.
‘I’ve been right here, waiting for you’.