JUST▫ONE▫CRIME [CONTINUATION]

By Jessica-Ken:

°°°°°°°CONTINUATION°°°°°°°

  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 rock 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 grunts 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 have 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. “Grr!” 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 head.
  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.
  “Um…”
  “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 whole 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 her 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 thought, 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 in the drawer.
  Cork—went the sound of a gun being corked 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 harsh. “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 directed 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—”

***TO BE CONT’D***

 

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Jessica-Ken
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
Articles: 132

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