The rain mercilessly descended upon me, and the wind with all its dust particles lashed my face. I was drenched, but I dared not seek cover, fearing that if I stopped for one moment, my life would catch up with me. Once again, I was on the run, except this time, I did not know where I was running to.
TWO HOURS EARLIER
My associate had left me on the porch, telling me he had some cleaning up to do inside, and that he would call me if he needed any help. I prayed it wouldn't come to that, but if it did, I was ready to do whatever I needed to do. The second he entered, I heard a little commotion going on inside, and eventually, the night was still again. The only thing that could be heard was the howling of the wind, and the rustle of the leaves. I liked to imagine that the wind was having a conversation with the trees, and I was eavesdropping on them. It distracted me from the issue at hand.
Out of nowhere, I heard a loud bang, and my heart jumped into my chest. I gripped the weapon in my hand tightly.
My hands were cold, and they had begun to shake violently. I could blame it on the cold, but I knew it because of the fear that had so tightly gripped me. I could barely see the gun in my hand, but it's weight was an enormous burden in my wavering grasp.
I had to keep reminding myself, that at that very second, if I had to choose between another man's life and my own, I would not hesitate to pull the trigger. I dreaded having to make that decision, but it was one I might have to make.
The snapping of a twig broke my train of thought. My eyes darted around, looking for a possible uninvited guest. After walking around the perimeter of the house a couple of times, I convinced myself it was probably a rodent of some sort,and went back to my spot on the porch.
The wind had died down, and I could hear the crickets chirping rather noisily. Their voices had been carried away by the wind before, but now it seemed as though they wanted me to hear whatever song they were singing, and I was forced to oblige.
Eventually, I decided that if something was going to happen, it would have happened by now. Confident that I would not be needed as backup, I began to doze off. The second I shut my eyes, I heard another loud bang. This time, it was accompanied by loud screams.
"Boy! Get in here! Now!"
I jolted awake, and rushed inside, gun in hand, ready to face whatever would be waiting for me, but nothing could have prepared me for what I saw.
Kneeling in front of my associate was a woman, and next to her was baby. Her white night gown had been soaked in tears, and her eyes were red from all the crying. What could he possibly want my help for?
"Pull the trigger."
"What?"
"Bury a bullet in her skull. It's not that hard."
"Why?" I asked, feeling sick in my stomach.
"You're here to follow orders, not to ask questions, but if you want to know why, I'll tell you," he said as he propped his leg on the couch in the middle of the room. "This woman's husband took something very valuable from me, and now I'm here to return the favor."
"Okay, but why must I be the one to pull the trigger?"
"I thought you might like the honor. It would be your first kill, wouldn't it?"
I wanted to vomit. I knew he was an evil man the day I met him, but the way he spoke about taking someone's life so casually... it made me sick.
I looked at the woman and her child again. Her hair was disheveled, and she had scratches on her neck. Whatever he had done to her before I came inside, I did not want to know. The baby was sleeping peacefully, unaware of the dangers that were lurking around him. For a moment, I wished to be him. I wished I could just be oblivious to the evil in this world. I wished I didn't have to think about my future, and that I didn't have to be afraid of what tomorrow would bring.
I wished I could live in a state of limbo, unable to get hurt by the people around me. I wished not to feel.
I had no time for wishful thinking though. I needed to make a decision, and I needed to do it quickly.
"No," I said.
"What?"
"I'm not doing your dirty work. If you want something done, do it yourself. Also, I'm no longer going to be in business with you." I turned to leave, but I stole one last glance at the woman, and I just couldn't leave her like that. I had to leave, though. Whatever she and her family had gotten themselves into, I wanted no part in it. She should deal with it herself.
What about the baby? He's done nothing wrong, and he's going to lose his life before he's even had a chance to live it.
There's nothing to live for in this world.
Maybe not for you, but for him there's everything to live for.
And just like that, I had lost an argument with myself. All my life, I had adjusted myself to what others deemed acceptable, but now it was time to set my own standards. I knew what was right, and I owed it to myself to do it. I turned around and aimed my gun at him.
"Boy, what do you think you're doing?"
"I have one bullet, and I'm using it wisely." I took a deep breath, and pulled the trigger. For a second, it felt good. I had finally done something right. I had eliminated one bad person from the world, and the feeling was indescribable.
I looked at the woman again, hoping to see gratitude in her eyes. All I got was a cold, rejecting stare. In her eyes, I was the same as the man whose blood had drenched her white carpet. I was a murderer, not a saviour. In her eyes, I was a monster, and I couldn't blame her.
PRESENT
So there I was, running away from a life that wouldn't leave me alone. I was running, but I felt trapped. I so desperately wanted to get away, but where would I run? I was caught in a trap, and there was no escaping it.
Then it hit me. No, I'm not referring to an idea I had. It literally hit me.
"Stupid lamp post!" I yelled right before I fell to the ground.
I woke up with a slight headache, something I had become accustomed to courtesy of Anne. The first thing I realized when I woke up was that I definitely wasn't in my bed. I wasn't even in my house, or in my clothes.
I began to wonder where I was, and more importantly, why the bed was so close to the ceiling. I rolled to the edge, trying to get down, but I found to my surprise, that the ground was a good eight feet below me. Next to that side of the bed, though, was a ladder. Begrudgingly, I decided to climb down. Once my feet had touched the ground, I decided to explore the strange place. Right under the suspended bed, there was a coffee table. Perched on top of the table was a coffee mug, and inside that mug was, no, not coffee, but whiskey.
"Who puts whiskey in a coffee mug?" I asked out loud to no one in particular.
"I do. Learnt it from my grandfather. Easy way to sneak in a little morning drink without being judged," she replied.
"Monique? What are you doing here?"
"Well, I own this place, so there's that. More importantly, what are you doing in my night gown? I didn't put you in that last night," she shot back.
"Honestly, I don't remember much of last night."
"Really? What's the last thing you remember?" she asked, a smirk forming on her face.
"Well I remember asking for your number. Everything else is pretty blank," I confessed.
"Well, we had a great time."
"Did we, uh,..."
"Yup," she answered before I could find my words.
"Up there?" I asked, pointing to the bed hanging up above us.
"Oh yeah. I figured if we couldn't join the mile high club, we might as well join the ten feet high club," she said, but upon noticing the worried look on my face, she added, "Don't worry. You were great."
She was joking. That had to be it. There was no way I was going to have sex with someone who looked like her, and forget about it.
"Is that what really happened?"
"You wish," she said with a laugh. "I found you lying in the middle of the street and brought you home. You really don't remember?"
I shook my head.
"That's strange. Now you tell me how you got into my night gown."
"I don't remember that either, but I'm not giving it back. It's comfy. "
"It's a night gown!"
"Your point is?" I asked.
"You know what? Have it. I'm going to get some breakfast. Want anything?"
"Do you have any pizza?"
"I said breakfast."
"Fine. I'll have orange juice to go with that."
"You are unbelievable, you know that?" she said, massaging her temples. "I'm sure I have some leftover pizza in the fridge. Don't know about the juice though."
"That's fine with me," I said as I went to find the kitchen. I heard her asking if I was going to take off the nightgown first, but I shook my head.
Half an hour later, she was frying eggs and doing a terrible job at it, whiles I sat on the kitchen island chewing on microwaved pizza. This was her third attempt, and the kitchen was already smoky. I had tried telling her to give up, but she was a woman on a mission. A mission to burn down her kitchen, that is.
This time though, it seemed she had succeeded as she scooped the eggs onto a plate using a spatula. She sat down next to me, and tasted her eggs. Her face said it all.
"Want some pizza?"
"Yeah," she admitted. "So, what are you planning to do with the rest of your Saturday?"
"Today's Saturday?" I asked, a hint of panic in my voice.
"Yeah why?"
"Do you have a car?"
"Yes, but you're not touching it. If you're going somewhere, I'll drive you."
"That works for me."
It turned out her car was a BMW, and I couldn't blame her for not wanting me to drive it. It made no difference though, because she was just as reckless on the road. I didn't mind though, because I needed to get to school as quickly as I could.
When we did get there, no one was around. If the guys had been here, they were long gone.
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