Day 19 - Teresa's side of the story

"I don't understand why I am making this confession to you, " he begun, as if still unsure of whether to tell it all or not. "I have never talked about this to anybody else. You'll be the first to know this little secret of mine."

My curiosity had now peaked. What could this possibly be? How was it going to affect my plan?

"But I guess it is a lot easier talking to somebody who you know will be dead in a couple of days."

That sent a chill up my spine. He said it casually, like it was all in a day's work to kill people, but tell them some shocking stuff about your life before doing it.

"Once, a long time ago, I loved this woman. She was a local girl. There was nothing that I couldn't do for her."

Now my curiosity was over the edge. This guy in love? He had to be kidding.

"We did everything together and we came up with the idea of looking for better prospects for our life abroad. We would pretend that we were going to further our studies in some university. It was the only way to get round the strict immigration procedures against Africans going to America. We planned everything but at the last minute something went wrong. We had arranged to leave together but it couldn't work. So we quickly changed our plans. We decided that she leave first. She would then get settled and send my air ticket later. I gave her all the money, my savings. Some of the money I had even earned by killing somebody, a hit job.

"To cut a long, long story short. She never sent the ticket. She got married and settled in America. Everything that we had enjoyed together had been a joke. An act.

I could see the fury building up in his eyes all over again and I shuddered.

"I felt so used. Like I was a toy in her hands. From that moment, I knew what women were all about. Bastards, bitches..."

He had really lost it now and sensed that this was going to end up with me very badly hurt.

"Women always, always want to use men. I hate that. So I always do it to them before they do it to me. Does that make any sense to you."

His eyes were really shining now, only the way the eyes of a totally insane person would. He reached for my blouse and tore it off with such force that even my bra was ripped off. I didn't even try to resist him, knowing that it would be totally useless and I would probably get hurt more. Still, he slapped me so hard that he drew blood. It trickled from somewhere inside my mouth and I could taste it.

"I hate women...ninawachukia, wanafaa kubakwa…"

I couldn't catch everything he was saying because he seemed to mix it with his native language. Closing my eyes I braced myself for what I knew was coming.

But it didn't. He was lying on top of me with his pants pulled down, but nothing was happening. I could feel his weight but nothing else.

After sometime I felt his manhood very limp in front of him. He started pressing it against me, but to no avail, the tiny thing was still very limp and uncooperative. After a while he rolled away in frustration and sunk to his knees on the floor besides me. His head buried in his hands.

Then I heard some noise coming from him that I could not explain at first. His whole body shook. Were those sobs I was hearing? From tough man Bat-ears himself? Impossible! My ears had to be playing tricks.

I listened closely. Yes, they were sobs all right. The big man was crying.

I was more frightened than I had ever been in my life. So frightened that I didn’t make a move to cover my nakedness or change my position. I just lay there naked and with my legs wide open just the way he had forced them. This man was a brute, a very sick brute. It was now clear to me that he was so unpredictable that I was extremely lucky to be still alive.

After a while, I recovered and pulled my legs together, covering myself with some of shreds that were left of my clothing.

Should I make a run for it? If there was an opportunity then this was the best one. My hands were free, the door was open, and Bat-ears was still sobbing on the floor. He probably wouldn’t even notice if I made a quick run for it.

But what if he recovered and followed me with the gun? He would brutally kill me in the bush somewhere, especially considering the mood he was in. But I figured I had very little to lose. Even if he killed me, at least I would die fighting and that was much better than dying like some scared chicken quietly waiting for it’s fate.

I slowly sat up, keeping my eyes carefully trained on Bat-ears. He was still sobbing his cruel heart out. I started tip-toeing towards the door. That girl who had left him would probably never know how lucky she’d been. I doubted that she was the whole reason that he was this sick in the mind. He had told only his side of the story. The girl probably had her side too. Maybe she saw something else in him, she wanted no part of.

I was now at the door, not caring about my exposed breasts and the tatters that were left of my skirt that barely covered me.

It was at that moment that I regretted my decision to try and escape hundred times over. That’s because Bat-ears suddenly recovered and looked directly at me, our eyes met.