By Jessica-Ken:





It was July 28th, 1994. The year things had gone not like the way it should be.
“Hands above your head! Hands above your head!” Sound of sirens filled the air at the cops’ call. I wanted to flee, but had no place to go, knowing my end has come. “Hands… above… your… head!”
The air was frightening cold and had this strange smell that made me cringe. The once busy road was now deserted, empty of people who once walked the busy streets, even at that time. It was only half past eight. Not yet late, but already as though it was an ungodly hour to walk. I was on my way home with my handbag clutched to my side. I had my hoodie on with hands tucked in warm gloves, walking hurriedly on the sidewalk. Guess I was scared myself as I simply couldn’t wait to be home, back in safe haven. I got my keys out from where I placed them, zipping my bag shut, as I moved as fast as my legs could carry me. It seemed like I was running from my own shadows. From everyone, and the world at large. My heart beat faster than I could count, with my breath as loud as I could hear. I hurried to my front porch, carefully sliding in the key as something caught my gaze. “Someone’s here.” I said, half a whisper, reluctant to open the door. Aren’t you going to walk in? My mind roared to life as it urged me on. I gave a slight lick at my lips, heaved a deep breath and did as my mind told. Walking in wasn’t much of a deal, but knowing what would happen next was one I was scared to think. The living room was still as I left it before, only that the lights were on. Who could have been here? I worried more about myself, reaching for the pistol in my pants.
My brain captured the signal and I turned around, pointing the gun at my attacker. “Daniel?”
It was no attacker. Only my best friend and partner. “Daniel, what are you…?” I froze on seeing the blood on his hand. “Oh, my gosh! Danny, you’re bleeding!” I couldn’t take my eyes off his bloody hand as he groaned and let go of his lower side. “Th-they’re coming…”
“Wh-who’s coming?” I asked in fear, moving closer to him as I got his hand around my shoulder. “Just hold on, Danny. D-don’t talk.”
He groaned, wanting to let go. “No, you have to go,” he said weakly as I placed him down on the floor, swiftly tearing part of my cloth I had buried under.
“You have to go, Anne. Anna, you have to go.”
“There’s no way I’m leaving you. Not like this.” I looked at him with tearful eyes, knowing there was no way he’d make it with the amount of blood gushing out right before my eyes.
“Daniel, listen to me. You and I, are going to leave this place. You hear me? I’m not leaving you. And I ain’t losing nobody again!” My tears were already dropping. I could see the life leaving him with every drop of blood that went on the floor.
“A-Anne—” he tried to speak, but I shut him up.
“Shh-sh. You’re going to be fine. Everything’s going to be fine. Okay?” The quiet air grew tainted, letting in bullets, alerting me. “D-Dan…”
I needed not a seer to tell I had to grant my best friend’s final wish.
Running as fast as my legs could carry me, I ran past bushes, panting heavily, hot beads of sweat rolling down my face. I must had run for what seemed like hours, not exaggerating, if not for the stone that almost had me face down. “Aargh!” I groaned, limping and searching for a place to rest, not having a hard time finding one, as I sat to reminisce on my past life.
“Tell us where the money is or I’ll shoot—” those were the words I replayed in my head, remembering how I had pulled the trigger, mercilessly.
“Ah!” rang the grunt of my victim, sending cold chills up my spine.
I wept profusely—first time feeling sorry for my kill—not like it was my first time killing someone. I’ve been in the game for all I know. Daniel and I. At least, not until he died. We were going to go to France. Start anew. Leave everything behind and live a life we’ve always wanted—a life of freedom.
The life I wanted was a peaceful one. I wanted a clean start and wanted so bad to forget all the bad things I’ve ever done. But I guess nemesis do have a way of catching up with someone, don’t you think? The souls I had killed. All those times, those years, killing those innocent people who never did anything. Having them slaughtered and thrown, wherever. Men. Women. Children. All who didn’t deserve to die.
I was a wanted criminal. No partner. No home. Not even anyone to turn to. Even The Almighty who they said was merciful, I knew wouldn’t think of letting me in, not with the horrible things I’d done. Was there ever a place I could find solace, a place where I wouldn’t be a fugitive but a freeman to be welcomed with arms open wide?
“Oh, Daniel,” I said aloud, “Is this really what you would have wanted if you knew your end was near?” I sighed and lifted my head to the clouds as though I was seeking the face of God. God? I wondered, Does he really see everything from up there? I sighed again and rose to my feet. “Lord, if you can hear me, I ask you take my soul and let me be free from this burden.” I said, anxiously waiting for my wish to be granted. It was as though all those stories my Christian foster parents told me weren’t real. They’d say God answers all prayers. That when you call to Him, He’ll answer. “Lord!” I called louder, hoping He’d hear me this time. “Lord, if you can hear me, end this now and let me be free!” The second time still, nothing happened. Groaning in frustration, I picked up a stone and threw it in the air. “Garr!” Not like it was of any help. I left that place and got running again.
It wasn’t much time that I had begun, that I realized a cabin stood up ahead. “At last!” came my breath as I staggered on, aiming for the doorbell.
“Who’s there?” the voice of an old woman rang, making my stomach rumble.
“Can I help you?” a stout, oldie figure came into view as the door pulled open.
“Good heavens!” The old woman cried before I could speak, getting me confused. “You certainly look dirty,” she looked at me from head to toe as I stood thinking of what to say. “Well, come on in.” she ushered in good spirit, and I walked in; eyes focused on the ceiling, and then on the refrigerator.
“Would you like something, my dear?” she asked as though she knew me.
“No, thanks.” I gulped and surveyed the place.
“Would a hot bath do instead?” she called to my attention as I could only stare, wondering how on earth such a person could be so kind.
No one’s been kind to me before. Not once. So why this stranger? I wondered, likening my angel in human form to the good Samaritan Mom never failed to talk about whilst she was alive.
I couldn’t figure out why I was treated like someone known before, and I couldn’t come to a conclusion, either, thus making myself comfortable on one of the sofas, while I watched her leave to have my bath ready.
“You can come now.” She called no sooner had she left, giving way for me to undress, and even handing me her daughter’s PJs.
Never in my life have I felt so comfortable. I must say the credit be given to my guardian angel.

“Done already, my dear?” the old woman’s voice came again.
I replied, nodding like a little child, making for where she sat.
“Are you hungry?”
I shook my head, having no appetite.
“Well, I reckon you get some rest. It’s best you get one.” She urged and rose to her feet.
“Why are you being so nice to me?” I asked not being able to hold back. “Are you always this nice to strangers?” I was curious to know.
The line just below her lids grew in the light as her two scanty brows shot up. “So nice?”
I made to speak, but got stopped.
“You should get some rest, my dear,”
I could tell from where I was, that she already knew I wasn’t so comfortable anymore.
“Would you like a cup of tea?” she asked nicely, while I ignored.
“Water? Hm?”
I raised my brows at her, then got them relaxed. “Water will do.”
She smiled and made for the refrigerator, pulling out a bottle, as she hurried into the kitchen.
Some weird lady, I scoffed, sick of her behaviour.
Seeing she was out of sight and was taking longer than usual, I sprang to my feet, walking to the other side of the living room, to get a view of what laid inside the drawer.
Cock—went the sound of a gun being cocked as I turned around.
“Just what do you think you’re doing?”
I raised my hands above my head, and said, “I-I’m sorry,”
The old woman drew closer. “Move!” she commanded, her voice rather hoarse. “You think I don’t know who you are?” the old woman chuckled, “You’re that lady, aren’t you?”
I pretended not to know what she was saying, having my hands still raised. “Pardon?”
“Oh, don’t play me,” she aimed her gun at me as I moved backwards. “You’re that lady everyone’s been talking about. The lady on the news!” she announced.
“On the news?” I intentionally asked, wanting to make her annoyed, and even more enraged.
“You think I’m stupid?”
I chuckled inside. “Well, actually, you’re dumb!” I said to her hearing, not scared if she had her gun pointed directly at me.
She’s tough! I thought, laughing in my mind. “So you really do think you can hand me over to the police? Huh?” I spat and looked at her.
“That bounty is mine as long as I’m concerned.” she growled, making me laugh till my sides hurt.
“You’re not scared?” I clicked my tongue at her stupidity, and she replied with shoulders raised. “Not… quite!”
My inner mind rose. So the old hag thinks she’s wise? I clicked my tongue in thoughts. Well, she’ll never know what hit her! The beast in me was now fully awake, ready to pounce and devour. “Oh, you’re not going to like this—” A sinister laugh broke out from within as a roar that could send one of its feet took control of me, as I grabbed hold of her gun—the mighty AR-15—her saving grace, and had it pushed to the side while she begged. “Have mercy. Oh, have mercy—the poor oldie cried, I’m just an old woman.” she asked to be spared, but her pleas fell on deaf ears.
I hit her countless times with the butt of the gun, watching her breath grow faint, as I didn’t get up until I saw that she was dead. “That’d teach you not to let in strangers!” I said and spat on her, disgusted.
I left her body lying there, not caring if anyone saw, as I dashed out of the door, continuing from where I stopped.
Running for days, and for weeks, I was living off scraps of food I could find in waste bins, avoiding the people that could cause my downfall, and staying off any lane that’d make one suspicious.
Soon weeks rolled into months, and yet the police had not found me. I knew if I had a chance, I’d leave the country. But, it wasn’t easy. Not with the security being tight and my name on every lips.
It was this one kill that changed everything. The death of LUCAS SANIVARO.
Lucas was a wonderful man. A philanthropist. He was the C.E.O of Sanivaro Imports, and had everything—anything a man could wish for.
He had the money.
The estate—
He was worshipped by all, but wasn’t to be for long, as he was the next in line to all the people I had buried in the earth.
Lucas Sanivaro, though the peoples’ man, was feared. But I, for one, feared no one.
“He’s on the move. Follow that car.”
“Copy that.”
It was June. I could remember vividly how we planned our greatest hit.
“Anne. Anne, can you hear me?”
“Loud and clear, boss!” I smiled and said to my partner’s hearing, “Oh, I have a good feeling that this would be our best so far,”
His voice came in on the other line. “Oh, you bet!”
If only we knew what laid in store for us.
“I’m going in,”
The lead was taken as I followed, trying not to get seen by anyone. We were able to maneuver ourselves, as always, getting completely into the suite where our very special guest was, as we got to business.
“Tell us where the money is, or I’ll shoot!” came my orders, my gun pointed directly at the frightened man.
“Pl-please. Please don’t kill me. I’ll tell you anything. Anything. J-just please.” his pleas came as I chuckled, seeing how terrified he was.
I smiled and leaned forward, running the smooth side of my gun on his face, as he trembled, almost peeing in his pants. “Tell me where the fucking money is, and I’ll let your fucking ass go.” I said viciously, bringing my tongue closer to his face as I made to have a taste.
“I-it’s over there,” he pointed shakily to the mirror on the wall.
I growled, feeling played—raised myself up and turned around to have a look. A mirror? Really? I looked back at him and yelled in his face, “You fucking with me now?”
He trembled, saying not a word.
Not wanting to waste anytime, I signaled to Daniel to guard him while I went to have a look.
“Interesting,” I said, taking notice of the holes on each side. “You’re really one smart man.” I acknowledged, sliding in my hand as my fingers struck something hard. Smart… indeed. I smiled with heart bursting with joy.
“Oh, we’re going to be rich.” My partner enthused as I got busy, taking the mirror out of its place, a shiny iron safe standing out as majestic as nothing I’d ever seen.
“Ooh, yeah!”
The happiness I felt was one I hadn’t felt in years. Can’t believe this is it. So can’t believe it—I kept telling myself until the wailing of sirens snapped me out of Moneyland. “Oh, shit!” I cursed, taking my hands off the safe.
“What’d you fucking do?”
I joined to question him, cursing at my loudest peak. “You asshole!”
The filthy bastard began laughing.
“You fucking called the police? How?”
“I’ve got eyes everywhere.” He laughed harder, making me punch him.
“Oh, you’re so going to pay for this—”
Daniel got in front of me, the panic in his eyes clearly seen. “Anne, what’ we gonna do? We ain’t fucking running, are…?”
I cut in sharply. “We do no goddamn shit.” I said, not blinking; my gun aimed at Lucas Sanivaro’s head as a bullet shot through.
“ Dang. I love her!” Daniel exclaimed, a wicked smile overtaking my lips.
“I hope you rest in hell—” I said with one final look, as we fled.
It wasn’t until the day that problem came crawling to our side, that we knew our basket was full…


“You’re going to be fine. Everything’s going to be fine…” the sound of my voice slowed me down as it pierced my mind, suffocating me.
I was slowly coming to a stop, already giving up and unwilling to run.
I knew it wasn’t much time before the police caught up with me. And the thought of being cuffed and sent to jail, got me running again.
“Hands above your head! Hands above your head!” Sound of sirens filled the air at the cops’ call as I was soon surrounded. I wanted to flee, but had no place to go, knowing my end has come. “Hands… above… your… head!”
I did as they commanded, paying no attention to the people that were watching from a distance. I got roughly pushed down with my hands brought backwards, and with my face turned sideways, got handcuffed without wasting time.
If anyone told me that this would be my last in NYC, I would have laughed it off and said, “F**K YOU!” But hey! Here I was, being bundled into the back of the van, to be taken to the place I dreaded most. “I’m only getting started—“



A student of the popular Nnamdi Azikiwe university. A Human Anatomy stud—and a passionate writer, with the hope of one day making the world a better place.
~Authoress Ciara

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