Gaius
Lagos, Nigeria
"Good day, ma'am. Is Barrister Peret in his office?" I ask the secretary as soon as I get to the first floor of Barrister Peret's law firm.
"Yes, he is, " she answers, scrutinizing me with her eyes as though I was bubblegum beneath her shoe. "Do you have an appointment with him? And what's your name?"
"My name is Gaius Giakas. He's the one who asked to see me today, " I answer with a curt smile on my lips in return for her criticizing eyes. She's the last person I have to worry about today.
I don't know why she's looking at me like that, but I could not care less.
Hmm. What if she's suspicious of you? You are a bloody criminal!
"Alright, follow me."
This time I'm thankful to hear her speak because it helps to shut out my inner voice.
Shortly after she informs her boss about my presence, I am allowed into Barrister Peret's office.
As I face the tall, dark figure of the man who has asked to see me today, I give a small bow, showing my profound respect for him. He manages a smile on his cold, arctic face and motions for me to have a seat with a slight stretch of his arm.
The temperature in the office feels a tad bit too stuffy. Or perhaps, it's just me. I bit my lip anxiously. Despite my familiarity with this man, I am never comfortable around him.
"Y-you asked to see me today, sir. Is there a problem?" I fiddle with my fingernails and firmly cross my legs at my ankle region.
"Yes, Gaius. There is a serious problem," The lawyer clasps his hands together and brings them near his head.
Slowly, he shakes his head in an aggrieved manner and lets out an exasperated, fed-up sigh. My heart beats faster, and I can tell from his body movements that there's serious trouble. And it most likely has a great lot to do with me.
He raises his head and looks at me right on. The expression on his face is hard to decipher, so I try to remain calm as I console myself with the delusion that he's not mad at me. Nothing prepares me for the angry words that come out of his lips a few seconds later.
"Are you crazy? Tell me! Are you crazy?"
"N-no sir, I'm not."
"Then why can't you see that there is a bright future ahead of you and a lot for you to achieve in life? Do you really want to spend your entire life in prison?"
"Oh..." When I realize this is why he's called for me, my anxiety dissipates, and I muster the courage to look him right back.
"What are you trying to say right now, sir?" I dare to question his authority.
"What am I trying to say?" He sounded like my words were a pain to his ears. "Gaius, are you really asking me that? I saw a video of you at the central prison in Lagos, visiting one of your accomplices. He was questioned, and he mentioned that you told him of your plans to turn yourself in very soon.
Luckily enough, he wasn't able to figure out that you were the one who came around since he has only one functioning eye. Still, do you know the amount of danger you are currently in? Do you know that it is fourteen years imprisonment if you get caught and are charged to court? Are you crazy?"
I'm confused as to how to react to Barrister Peret because I'm not sure about the things I'm currently feeling. However, there's this hopelessness that is buried deep somewhere in my heart. It's a despair that I feel as I think of how close-minded and adamant many people are, especially older adults.
If he really cared for me, he wouldn't try to stop me from going to prison. What was the point of protecting me from the physical maltreatment that jail would give if I was going to rot away in the chasms of guilt if I didn't turn myself in?
"If that is your definition of crazy, then yes, I am mad. Sir, I expected you to understand the importance of consequences. As an enforcer of the law and a highly respected dignitary in the legal field, I thought you were going to know that sometimes, the attainment of justice does not only lift the burdens of the victim but also vindicates the offender. Why would you try to stop me from reaching for my freedom?"
Thud.
I feel a sharp pain on my cheek, and I hold it with my right hand, rubbing it softly like it will take away my discomfort.
"What do you know? Huh?! Do you know that a woman is looking for you right now? The lady you raped when you were young is the younger sister of this particular woman. This woman is a lawyer and a detective, and her friend is working with me right now to catch the remaining culprits, but I'm doing all I can to cover up for you. If that woman catches you, she will not only toss you into prison. She will kill you. Now that you have put yourself in trouble, what do you think will happen to you?"
My heart thumped. I wondered who the lady was. I could not deny I felt a little scared. Still, I had to stick to my decision. So I swallowed a thick lump of saliva and talked.
"I will take on my punishment no matter what it is. If it requires dying, then I will do it." My words do not sound believable to my ears, but I know they are true.
"Also, you don't have to feel indebted to me just because you know my dad or that he's done some special favor for you in the past. This is my life, and I'm a different person from my father. Please, leave me be and allow me to walk on the path that will cleanse me of all my sins. You don't even know what I've suffered from for so many years. You can't and won't stop me simply because you have the power to."
"You fuc-" he raises his hand in the air so he can slap me again, but I raise my hand in time to yank his hand away.
"I am a twenty-four-year-old adult, not a seventeen-year-old boy who still has a lot of growing up to do. I'm not crazy for wanting to do what is right. I'm not mad for making a bold decision, and you have no right to hit me," my face is stern, and I feel my ears beating in anger as I snap at him.
"I respect you a lot which is why I honored your invitation today, but I'm quite disappointed in you. I don't even know what else to say. But know that the next news you will hear about me will be me turning myself in to the police."
I tear his hands away from my grasp and bolt out of his office, slamming the door violently behind me. I run out of his office and only slowed down after I got to the spot where I'd packed my car. Tears run down my eyes as I start my car, swerving down the road to the basketball court.
Gifty comes to my mind as I drive. The image of her reddened cheeks the last time she had seen me comes to my memory. I still remember the look on her face. The last time we saw each other, she batted her eyelashes numerous times, meaning that she was holding back her tears and was trying hard not to cry while I was around. I knew very well though, that she had cried her eyes out after I left that day.
Gifty is my sunshine. She's the hope I never thought I'd get to experience in my miserable life.
I never liked to see my girl sad, but I knew I'd made her unhappy and worried the last time we met. I'd given her a cold attitude. Still, I knew there was nothing I could do to make her happy. I was too downcast to put up an act.
At this point in my life, I have nothing good to offer. I know that it's only going to be anguish from here on out. I can feel the entirety of my being withering away and sinking into the waters of pain and guilt. I can feel it on my neck, and I know it's going to drown me very soon.
And I know that I'm going to die alone. I can't afford to drag Gifty into my misery.
I can't let her know that her 'perfect' boyfriend associated himself with a group of monstrous males who raped a young girl in the past. The pain will chew her up and spit her out as a ruined vessel. There is no way she will ever remain same. It's even worse that she is an emotional person.
The best thing to do is hide it from her, turn myself in to the police, go to jail and-
No, it won't make things better. I dismiss the thought.
Maybe I should turn myself in first, then reveal the crime I'd committed so she won't be able to do anything about it but cry and-
No. That's a trashy thing to do. I shake my head as I make a U-turn to drive down the estate.
My heart feels like it's on fire, as though it's been ripped out of my chest and dipped into the flames burning with sulfur and brimstone. It is sore because it understands the misery she will feel irrespective of what will eventually happen and how she will find out.
Indeed, I am conflicted and don't know what to do. However, one thing I'm sure of is that I do not deserve to be with her. I always knew it. Yet, I was delusional enough to think that I deserved one good thing out of life.
As I wipe the tears off my face, I alight from my car after parking it. I take my jersey in hand so I can play some basketball to relieve myself of the severe harshness of my plight.
As I walk into the sport's premises, my feet come to a halt when I see her sitting on the bench beneath the oak tree, and I can see that shimmer of hope in her eyes as they dart from left to right, waiting for the one whom her heart beats for, hoping that he would be much better than he was the last time.
Then, our eyes meet.
Immediately, I know I've dashed those hopes because I'd cried all along while driving, so she can see that my eyes are red and swollen. She sees it, and she knows it because tears are falling down her eyes now. She knows I'm not okay, and she's aware that I do not want to talk to her, but she gets on her feet and approaches me.
I want to run and hide. I want to shield my face and save her the shame of having such a disgraceful lover, but I cannot move. It feels as if I'm suspended in a space where the laws of gravity are null and void. So I'm stuck and immobile.
"Are you going to tell me why you were crying?" she wipes off the tear from her face and tries her luck nevertheless with hopes that she will get a different result.
"No," I sniff the mucus that threatens to run out of my nostrils. "Please, don't make me answer that question," I shake my head and walk past her. I don't look behind to see how heartbroken she looks because I know she is devastated already.
"Gaius, you can always talk to me about anything. I really can't stand to see you like this."
Gifty doesn't scream, but I can hear the desperation in her voice. I can tell how close she is to losing her sanity. I know she wants to cry her suffering away, but her chest feels tight and clouded with many unanswered questions. Thus, she doesn't know what to weep for. Still, the itching is there.
I want to console her. I want to take all her pain and give her all my joy, but I have nothing to offer. So I don't turn back. I keep walking.
Soon, she'll figure that I won't stop ignoring her and when she does, I hope she'd be sensitive enough to realize her worth and move on. I pray she'd discern that I am bad news, and she will run, far, far away from me.
As I get to the dressing room, I slump down on the floor and pour out more tears, knowing fully well that there are tumultuous days ahead.