I knew without a doubt I could take the man out in a split second, snap his neck before anyone could stop me. And with a menacing growl, I stepped towards him and grabbed him in a tight grip as he shrieked like a little girl.
I pressed hard on his neck, cutting off the man’s air supply. I just held on, like I’d been trained to, as he squirmed beneath me, clawing at my arms, dragging his finger nails down and into my flesh, ripping at ink stained upon my skin. I meant to kill, but before anything could happen, more hands, stronger this time, pulled me off Alan and the shouting resumed.
I was in a state of trance as my hands were cuffed behind me and a cop read me my rights. Monique was losing it, crying loudly as Alan sputtered, desperate for air.
What had I done? I asked myself with horror. I’d almost killed a man... Almost wasted my future on that sack of shit.
23
Mila
One year later
“Bye, Mila! See you Monday!”
“Bye Priscilla, have a good weekend.” I waved at my work colleague as I made my way out of the office and into the busy street. A smile was plastered on my face as I hailed down a cab and gave the driver my home address.
A year ago, I would have been scrambling for enough change to take the bus home, and now I was able to take a taxi. My life had really changed, and definitely for the better. At least, I could make myself believe that six days out of seven in the week.
As I came home to a cute two up two down detached house I rented, I walked into the kitchen, feeling the stress of tight deadlines that came with the job lift off my shoulders, at least for the duration of the weekend.
“Hey, I’m home!” I called out to the quiet house then heard footsteps reverberate through the upstairs floorboards.
Suzanne was rushing downstairs, almost taking the steps two at a time, a big smile dominating her face. She hugged me even though we’d seen one another only that morning, and I was once again so thankful to have my cousin’s support.
“What you smiling at?”
“Oh, nothing your pretty little head has to worry about at the moment.”
I narrowed my eyes at her with suspicion. She was up to her old tricks again. But I wouldn’t be without her. Suzanne had been a Godsend the past few months, and I was so glad she came to stay with me for a little while, whilst she was in-between jobs.
I excused myself for a quick second and rushed upstairs.
* * *
“Are you hungry?” Suzanne asked me a few minutes later when I entered in the kitchen, and before I could answer, pulled a pot roast out of the oven with a big smile.
I shook my head with a smile. “You’re amazing. I don’t tell you that enough, you know?” I gushed.
“You should definitely tell me how great I am more often,” Suzanne nodded solemnly, and poured us two glasses of wine as well.
We sat down at the counter and toasted, relaxing in companionable silence as we drank.
As the wine loosened our tongues, we chatted about work and then ate, the food so delicious it melted in my mouth. It definitely felt good to be home after such a long day at work.
“What did you do today?” I asked Suzanne curiously. “Everything okay?”
“Yes, of course,” she nodded and gave me a sideways glance. “I did get some news from home from my mom, though.”
I raised my eyebrows, urging her to go on and she took a quick sip of her wine before letting me know the news.
“Well, it turns out a certain couple has finally finalised their divorce,” she said in hushed tones.
I pursed my lips in annoyance. I didn’t want to talk about that, and looked away immediately and busied myself with cutting the meat.
I’d been doing so well not thinking of him, of what he was doing, how he was and every other question in between. A year ago, it had almost killed me walking away… I’d cried for days, but had found the strength to ignore all his calls and texts until eventually I resorted to switching my number.
“Monique and Dev,” Suzanne clarified, waiting for my reaction. But there was none - that chapter of my life was over and done with, at least that’s what I tried to tell myself. It was far from over… I knew one day questions would be asked and I’d probably no longer have the willpower to lie.
“Aren’t you gonna say something?” Suzanne asked pointedly and I rolled my eyes, heaving a sigh.
“I don’t care, Suzanne,” I told her, my voice on edge, tense. “I really don’t. And I don’t want to hear another word about it, either.”
My cousin was about to object when there was a knock at the door. We exchanged confused glances, but in the end I got up and walked over to the door.