03 December 2012

Murdered In Cruelty

A harsh sun shone outside the window but the breeze of the air conditioner blowing made the room seem cool. The young woman lying in the bed glared at the clock above the dresser, her forehead glistering from fear.

Fifteen past two. He wasn't coming.

No! He will come. He has to come! Not after all I have sacrificed!

She vaulted from the bed and paced round the bedroom, looking outside the widow for the umpteenth time. The day looked beautiful and vividly bright, the people that walked by on the street, were clad in fine revealing clothing. She leaned inside taking one final look at her luggage. The travel bags were standing in the middle of the room. Everything was ready.
Except for her guest.
Twenty five past two.
She stared at the wall clock, watching as it ticked away. Seconds multiplied into minutes that became hours and with each passing hour all her hopes and dreams seem to faded.
Half past eight. The clock struck to mark the half-hour.
There was a knock on the door. Excitement ran through her blood. She ran to the door, turned the lock and threw it open.
A man stood on the doorstep; a tall, huge, early thirties young man in a red-shirt and deep blue jean trousers.
"Sweetheart,' his voice was deep, but sweet.
In his arms they walked into the room and jumped into bed.
"Daughter Made Away With Father's Twenty Million Naira and elope with boyfriend of five years, have you read about it?"
"Of course."

"It must be painful."
"Painful? Reading about myself just made me laugh. Daddy didn't leave me with much choice."
"The Police are making full investion, you are all in the papers. I didn't mean to make your life this miserable. That wasn't what I planned. I just wanted a simple..."
Cecelia studied Bernard's small pupils close to tears.
"Why would you be talking like this when all I did, I did for us and our baby? We will go away to a country like South Africa, get married, start a business with the money. And in the future we will return Papa's money with interest."
"This is all wrong?"
Cecelia shook her head. Her happiness now giving way to a sense of terror.
"You didn't think this was wrong when I suggested the plans and kicked into action; now that I have twenty million naira here with me you think otherwise?"
"Listen to me Cecelia, let's get rid of this baby, return the money to your father, and then wait till he concents to our union."
"What rubbish are you talking!?" Her voice was angry, but the love in it showed in the way it trembled.
Bernard allowed a swift wicked smile to play around his plum lips. "You will remove the baby and return the money."
"You are crazy! You don't know what you are talking about!"
Bernard made as if to rise, but took one of the pillows up. He saw it was time he acted.
Cecelia's eyes, suddenly narrowed with suspicion perceving Bernard's musk smell; that don't just smell unless he was up to something really bad.
"Bernard are you okay?"
Bernard ignored her question. He rushed at her; suffocated her with the pillow until her life ebbed. Though she struggled to fight for her life, Bernard over powered her because he was huge and she was the petite type.
He stood up hands on his waists glaring at the briefcase filled with money.
What good money is to man's life? Now he can make a new life. A life faraway from his fatherland and marry a woman he won't have to love because of money.
Bernard's brain was whirring all the life he would live with the twenty million naira.
Hand stretched out to pick up the briefcase, in his head he heard a voice whispering.
It shouldn't be this way.
He waved the voice off to one side and left the room with the money.
Outside Cecelia's house Bernard joined a commercial motorcycle. The two rode in silence past houses, streets and busted into a street where hoodlums were fighting. The boys broke bottles, struck shining cutlasses against the tide road and it sparkled ember of lights.

The air was heavy with the blood of people already injured in the fight.
A particularly cold looking hoodlum with a big scar above his left eye holding a knife that threatned to suck blood, dragged Bernard down the motorcycle.
The sharp edge of the knife all of a sudden hit Bernard in the eye. He felt a burst of blood streaming down his face. The second eye was likewise stabbed.
He sank with a thud to the ground hand stretched out before him. He knew he was crying, but couldn't differentiate between the blood and the salty liquid which found their paths down his cheeks profusely.
The twenty million naira was gone!
The sound of voices and the echoes of sensentive footwares against the tied road slowly faded.
Bernard passed out!
People, Bernard presently is seeking help to be assisted with money to fly out of the country to have his eyes operated on so he can see again.
If you are in the position to help, would you help a murderer like Bernard?
Leave your comment.

Share this post.

No comments:

Post a Comment