Wednesday, December 14, 2011

RECKLESS (Final Chapter)

Thursday

The creak came from the beam as the rope swung back and forth. My legs kicked in a subconscious struggle. The beam and rope held my weight well despite of this. All seemed perfect. I just did not count on what happened next. My struggles loosened the knots. What I had thought strong enough for my injured wrist was not strong enough to hold my body. I had been betrayed by my own wrist.

My struggles won just when I thought I was about to meet my maker. The rope untangled and gravity took over. I heavily landed in an awkward position with half of my body on the abandoned stool. I paid little attention to my uncomfortable landing as I gasped and coughed with both relief and pain at the sudden rush of oxygen into my body. I managed to regulate my breathing, only to realize I had other problems. My throat felt too painful to even breathe, and the blood racing to my head had induced a maddening headache that brought tears to my eyes.

My suicide was forgotten as I stood up with great difficulty and I tried to ignore the sharp pains in my hip and shin. I did not need a fortune teller to know that I was going to be bruised and sore all over. I was a mess. The whole thing was a mess. My eyes swept through the room in search of you, wishing hard that you would not pick that moment to appear. I dragged myself to my medicine cabinet. Will all the pain, I needed something strong enough to knock out an elephant. I popped a pill in my mouth only to realize it was too painful to swallow.

I was desperate enough to grind the painkillers, dilute it with water and swallow it in careful sips. Fifteen minutes later, my body was still in pain. I proceeded to search for a syringe and shot some of the coke into my veins. I preferred snorting it but I need a quick fix and this was faster. I lay in bed and waited for the quick relief. Sleep was slow to come. Various images played in mind. I kept seeing myself hanging. I wondered who would have found my body. My biggest guess was you. You had stayed away but I knew you would not have resisted another day. I tried not to imagine how you would have reacted to my death. It was something I had stopped thinking of a long time ago. I had finally drifted to a restless sleep filled with nightmares.

The light sipping through my window wakes me. My body protests to any movement. It takes me a moment to drag myself from bed and to my full length mirror. I pull back the collar of my pajama. I need to see if I looked as bad as I felt.

Jesus! I cuss as I take a look at the angry bruise around my neck. My fingers slightly feel the imprints of the rope. I wince. It is painful to touch.

Hell! It is even painful to look at. I hold myself still as I try to swallow saliva bracing myself for the pain. There is no pain today but my throat still feels sore.

I suddenly get angry. I scream out my anger, ignoring the strain in caused my throat. It was no longer funny. Failing to kill myself once was fine especially if I had someone ready enough to save my life. But yesterday’s failure pricked my ego. It makes me feel worthless, like I have no say in my destiny. I want the control that has long eluded me. Tears tickle down my face. Why couldn’t I choose the way I wanted to die? I need to show that I am not a complete failure in everything. I needed to prove to myself that I and no one else could control my destiny. There has to be a way. I let my mind find a solution.

Finally it comes to me. A new plan. This time my plan is full proof. With this new conviction, I wipe away my tears. I look at my image in the mirror. There is a new spark in it. I walk to the bathroom to draw a bath. I let the bath fill up as I decide what I need. I am so engrossed in my thoughts that the bath fills up and spills.

Shit! I rush to close the tap. I look around. The spill was not massive, not like there was anyone who would care. No one would think of the leak on the floor when there is a bigger problem in the bathtub.

Deciding what I want, I walk back to the bedroom to find my hair dryer. I had not used it in a while but I knew it had to be somewhere in my closet. I toss things around in search of it. I finally find it just when I am about to give up and look for a substitute. I smile as I take in the hair dryer. I wondered if the person who invented it knew it would be useful in other ways. My dryer would not fail me this time.

My past failures come to mind. The first case was the excess pills back when Mr. Wrong was still alive. It is ironic that the person who I wished to escape from at the time was the one who saved me. I soon graduated to illegal drugs. They granted me escape from the reality I could not face. I had hoped for an overdose but this too seemed futile. My fixation with suicide had accelerated in the last week with the slashing of my wrists and hanging. My goal eluded me on both counts. I had to make sure that today is my last attempt. I could not fail again. Electrocution is sure to work. It had to.

I strip down to my knickers. I think of taking them off but suddenly decide to keep them. No point on being found completely nude. I laugh at my sudden modesty. I did not think anyone would care if they found my corpse dressed or undressed. All they would think of was finding a dead body. I once again wondered who would be unlucky enough to find my corpse.

I shove the thought at the back of my mind as I head to the bathroom with my new weapon. I get some resistance as I try to plug the hair dryer into the socket by the sink.

Shit! Something was jamming part of the socket.

No! No! I would not fail this time. I push harder but the resistance is still there. I take a deep breath and tell myself to calm down. The socket could be fixed. I leave the bathroom to look for something to pry the socket hole.

There were many things I could use to check out the socket. I see scissors, knives, spoons, pens, you name it. I pick the pen. I push the pen in find the jam. Something moves with the first stab giving me a little hope. I go at it for a few more minutes, but it could not move further. Running out of patience, I move closer and stand on my toes to see what is stuck inside.

One foot slips from the spilled water, and the other follows suit. I lose control of myself as I try to grab the sink but fail. My body falls backwards. I bang my temple on something before my head hits the floor. The wind is knocked out of me. I suddenly see white as stars dance before my eyes. I close my eyes to try and regain my breath and my sight. It takes seconds for my sight to clear, but my breathing comes out in shallow pants.

Dread spreads through my body as I realize I cannot move yet all I felt was dull pain. My eyes look around in alarm; I can see blood from the corner of my eye.  The fear becomes reality. I had banged my temple at the edge of the bathtub, and I was bleeding profusely from the open wound.

Christ! I think wildly. This is it… This is it… This is my end. I was wrong… I was very wrong. It seemed that I was not in charge of this part of destiny. This was not how I planned to die. I have once again failed to die on my own terms. Tears pour from my eyes.

Memories flash through my head; my childhood, my adulthood, my family, my friends, the good times and the bad times. Faces spring to mind. The prominent features are those of my parents and Mr. Wrong. I finally see my unborn child, the face I had dreamt of but never seen. My thoughts revolve to the last week. I think of the people I had met; Skinny dude, the Samaritan, Mr. Ugly and Silent dude. I feel a slight regret that I had not gotten to learn their real names. Maybe I should have paid much attention to them and why they had come into my life. Lastly, I think of you. You have stuck around me through my tribulations, being a representation of hope.

Your form appears with my thoughts. I was right. You would not resist another day without checking up on me. My eyes are blurry yet I could see the terror on your face. No. You could not save me from this. You move closer, fall on your knees and cradle my head on your lap. Tears are also running freely from your eyes. I try to smile at you in comfort. You need not to worry about me. I was going to meet my little Joshua. You wipe away my unchecked tears. My heart pumps faster as I get to give you a proper look. I take in your face; I take in your features. Holy Shit!

Jesus! I cuss over and over in my head. I have never known. All this time and I never knew. Your face looks much like mine. Why had I not noticed this? Everything of yours was mine. You are no other but me. You are the good side of me, the voice of wisdom, and the hopeful part of me. My subconscious has been trying to save me for a long time. Shame and regret fills me. I have wasted my life. I had let Mr. Wrong lead me down this path.

Oh! I had thought I had made him pay when I killed him, but I had not lived pass it. I had let my hatred for him consume my soul. My soul had thought to do nothing but go on to rampage of abusing myself. I continued where he left off.

I had wrapped myself into a cocoon of misery and refused to listen to anyone, to myself. I had refused to let you save me. My heartbeat begins to slow. My pants turn into gasps and slight chocks. Your form begins to fade. My time was near. More tears flow down my face. What had I done? Too many whats and whys spring fort.

You are now an outline. I look at you and try to voice my thoughts.  I’m sorry… I’m sorry…

I wish… I wish… My thoughts fail me and so does my vision.

Darkness descends.

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

RECKLESS PT 4

Wednesday

My hand caresses it, feeling its roughness. No. It was not beautiful. No matter their reason, I doubt anyone bought it for its beauty. Like I, they would have bought it for its strength and efficiency. I stretch it out with my good hand and sigh with approval.  It looked long enough, I thought as I eagerly twist my newly acquired rope into a noose. I feel a slight twitch of pain in my left wrist but ignore it as I concentrate on the noose. The pain today is ignorable. It could be because of the illegal self medication flowing in my system. 

My conscious nags me as the thought of a broken promise suddenly fill my head. What can I truly say but admit to my failure. Yes, I have utterly failed to be sober. There was not need to sugarcoat what is my reality. There was no one but you to blame for your misplaced sense of trust. Yes, I blame you for actually believing I am willing to change. Or maybe I deserve an Oscar for acting the part of the perfect reformer. You did not care to look deeper and see my suffering.

Falling asleep on Sunday without my daily supplement had not been as hard as I had thought. I guess because I had taken enough painkillers to trick my system. I was not so lucky on Monday. I had a massive headache with the nerve wrecking wrist pain. My body rejected the painkillers. By Monday evening I was ready to commit homicide to get something, anything in my blood stream. I carved the euphoria it brought yet I knew you would not let me get what I want. You were too saintly for that, so I shoved the homicidal thoughts out of my head as I cooked up another tactic. I had to play my cards right.

I played nice. I become agreeable. I forcefully ate everything you pushed at me. I stayed in bed. I was the model patient. I listen to you preach about the evils of my addiction and agreed to turn my life around. When Tuesday came, it did not take much to convince you I had fully recovered. I told you I could manage on my own. I hid a smile as you agreed with me. I held myself back from dashing out after you in desperation. I let the minutes tickle by. I was out of the house an hour later.
I managed to find Skinny’s house without getting lost. I bet it was the desperation that made me remember the route, since I never had a proper sense of direction. Hopping he was home, I gave the door a soft but firm knock.

“Who is it?” A male voice asked as the door slightly cracked opened. 

Jesus! Was my first thought when my eyes fell on the doorman’s face. God had not taken time on his looks. He was an eyesore. I wondered what he had done in his past life to deserve such a face. My eyes shifted to what I could see of his body.  Thank God! It seemed God had decided to make up for that by blessing him with a great body.  I could tell his body was his proudest asset since he looked like he spent every free time in the gym. My eyes moved back to his face and saw he wore a menacing look that actually suited his face. He was so stereotypical for his role was my thought as I fought my bubbling laugh with a smile, “May I come in?”

“What you want?” He asked suspiciously. Mr. Ugly did not seem to be very trusting. Then again it paid to be cautious. 

“The man in charge.” I said in a patronizing tone. He looked like he could be troublesome, typical for a man who thought he was more powerful than he actually was. Then again, I could not ask to see Skinny since I really did not know his name. 

“Who is it?” I heard Skinny’s voice call from somewhere behind the door. I gave the door a shove. Caught unawares, the door slipped from Mr. Ugly’s grip and open wide.  

“Hey sugar!” Skinny gave me a once over before his lips lifted into a crooked grin, “Come on in”.
I sidestep Mr. Ugly and get into house ignored Mr. Ugly’s glare. He did not look happy that I had pushed the door from his grasp. It was embarrassing for any man. I wondered if he was the type to hold a grudge. 

 “Told you I would see you soon,” Skinny said over his shoulder as he led me through the small corridor and into to his living room. 

“I did not disagree. I am however sure you hoped to see me sooner than today.” I stop and look around the room. Alcohol and weed was spread all over the coffee table. Mr. Ugly was not the only guest in Skinny’s house.  Seated on the sofa facing the television was another guest. There was not much of him to see since he wore his hat low and barely nodded at me when I got into the room. The guest seemed engrossed in glass and blunt in his hand as he stared at the television. My eyes also turn to the television. It seems I had interrupted a video game. 

“True.” Skinny flopped onto the sofa and patted a spot between him and the other guest in invitation. “You play?”

“Not much.” I answered and someone snorted. I turn to the sound and find Mr. Ugly making it to the other end of the sofa. He did hold a grudge. I met my newly acquired enemy’s gaze with a smile, “I bet I can beat you.”

“Bring it on, bitch” Mr. Ugly said with much venom. I guessed he did not like been challenged by a woman. Mr. Ugly was a staunch sexist. 

“Play nice.” Skinny said amid laughter. I did not think he really meant it. He looked to be the kind of man who enjoyed laughter at other’s expense. 

I looked at Mr. Ugly, he seemed ready to explore. He definitely did not enjoy being the butt of a joke. I take the blunt Skinny hands me and inhale deeply. I close my eyes; I finally got something in my system after days of craving. Screw the game! “Not in the mood.” 

Mr. Ugly hooted with glee at my surrender. Both Skinny and Silent dude seemed a little disappointed by my retreat. I ignored all that as I took another puff. The men resume their game as I tried to gain bliss. The weed passed from person to person, the alcohol drunk carelessly. For the first time in days I felt alleviated, yet I wanted more. I incline my body closer to Skinny. My indirect way of telling him I could do more. His gaze takes in mine. I let him read my eyes to let him know what I meant.
Skinny pressed the pause button, stood up and stretched. He then took my hand and pulled me up. “Sorry guys but I got to attend to something.”

“With her?” Mr. Ugly said with contempt. “She is so bony.” 

“Gee…” I said sarcastically. “I doubt Ugly is his type. Not like you got the right equipment anyway.” I said recklessly. The weed had definitely got to my head, but I would have probably said the said the same thing had I been sober. I hated it when people made rude remarks about my body. I had always leaned towards the scrawny side, and I would admit my addiction had not helped much with my size.

“He definitely does not have the right equipment.” I could sense some anger in Skinny’s voice. No man liked being questioned about a woman he picked to bed.  

“Easy, Man. I meant to insult her and not you. This chic got sass.” Mr. Ugly tried to placate Skinny. He knew he had crossed the line.

I opened my mouth for a retort but Skinny grabbed me and dragged me to his bedroom. His mouth covered mine for a searing kiss once the door shut. I lost momentum for a second. Ok! I told myself as I regained my senses. The dude could kiss. 

I frowned at the loss when he pulled away. His eyes scanned my body.  “You are bony. Don’t mind that, I am more interested with what you got between your legs. Strip off.”

“Sorry?” I asked, not sure whether to take his remark about my body as an insult or not.

“I said strip. You know like take off your clothes. ” He patiently repeated.
“You first.” I challenged. I did not think I wanted him to look at me naked, especially since I knew he also thought of me as bony. I suddenly broke into a smile. It was not like Skinny had much weight to declare.
“You are sassy.” Skinny said with an amused laugh. “You do not remember much from the last time you were here. So, I know you did not come here for this,” He grabbed his crotch for emphasis. 

“If you know all that, then why drag me into the room instead of giving me what I want?” His deduction impressed me. Skinny was not a fool. He noticed everything and took note. I had seen him eye my wrist earlier and had respected him for not questioning me about it. 

“Unlike you, I remember last time and want you are offering. Don’t worry sugar. I’ll make it memorable for you too plus you will still get your bonus.” Skinny said and proceeded to do just that. 

Wednesday morning found me at Skinny’s. I woke up to an empty room. Skinny was up before me, which meant I could not sneak out. I got into his bathroom and freshened up. I found Skinny in the Kitchen dealing with some customers with Mr. Ugly looking on. I tried retreating but Skinny caught my eye and motioned me to stay and wait. Once done with his customers, Skinny gave me a little stash telling me to come again in his usual smug way. 

I stormed out of his house cussing him like the last time. Skinny was so sure of himself. I would prove him wrong, I thought. I hoped not to see him again since I wanted today to be my last. I was tired of this endless circle. The Euphoria was great but once gone, I was left with nothing but depression. I looked around me. I felt the sunshine on my cheeks. It looked like a perfect day to die. I ate a hearty meal from a restaurant, bought a rope and headed home where I proceeded to make a noose. 

“Perfect.” I exclaim loudly once I finish making the noose. It had taken me awhile with various jolts of pain to finally finish it. I look towards the door wondering whether you would walk in. Have to say that it is a little surprising that you seemed to stay away today. I am relieved that you wouldn’t be here this time to witness my hanging. I head to my kitchen door frame. There is an opening at the top which I think will be perfect to hang the rope. I take a kitchen stool and place it directly under the door as I fix the rope. 

Satisfied with what I see, I make the necessary adjustment then place my neck in the noose. I take a shaky breath. Shit! I am a little scared. Hanging had not been my number one choice, but it seemed to be the easiest. I gather courage as I blindly feel the stool edge. I take a deep breath and kicked the stool below me. The noose tightens. My eyes bulge out of my head as I start gasping for breath.  I mentally yell profanities as instinct takes over as my legs kick out trying to in vein reach for the stool and regain balance. I soon see nothings but shades of light in the engulfing darkness. This is it, I think. Suddenly, I hear a slight creak. Then another creak before my body falls towards the floor.

Thursday…

Thursday, September 22, 2011

RECKLESS PT3


Sunday…

Jesus! I cry sharply as the pain shoots through my hand. Who knew such a cut could cause a great deal of pain. I release a string of cusses as a new pain surges through me when I attempt to move my hand once more. I have to admit that I cannot handle this. The slightest of movement brought tears to my eyes, yet I felt numb from lying in the same position. I try not to hold my breath as I make another attempt to move my hand to a new position. 

“Are you alright?” A voice asks startling me into jerking from my newly acquired position. I quickly hold my tongue from uttering more profanities.

“Who the hell are you?” I snare taking in the very tall stranger standing by my bedroom door with you behind him. His height overshadowed yours. 

“You don’t remember? What is your last memory?” The stranger asks with concern as he moves further into the room.

My eyes search his face. The features are familiar, yet not very familiar. I seek my mind as a need to place the face consumes me. A memory sparks. I close my eyes as more memories spill forth with yesterday’s events take priority.

Red. There was a lot of red. Blood spilled from my veins. The color was rich, attractive, beautiful.  I had watched with interest as the blood formed patterns, running down my arm before leaking to the floor. 

The chocking sound reminded me of your presence. The look on your face was priceless. Your eyes followed the trail of my blood with disbelief. It was at that moment that I realized that slitting my wrist in front of you was not the smartest of ideas, especially after you released a hair-raising scream that shook the building. 

The scream worked in your favor as it brought a good Samaritan to my house. I’ve always thought it funny how there is always a person somewhere rushing to a stranger’s aid. It was as if such designated heroes lurked nearby waiting to save a body if not a soul. With the Samaritan in the house, everything accelerated. Someone wrapped a cloth round my wrist to stop the blood that was flowing freely.

Both of you proceeded to hustled me to some clinic where a nurse cleaned the cut, applied Betadine antiseptic, slapped on a bandage and prescribed pain killers. The Samaritan took his newly acquired title seriously for he insisted on taking us home and sticking through the night with you. 

 “What is your last memory,” The Samaritan’s voice repeated dragging me away from my musing.
I open my eyes and try not to frown as I see you both hovering around me. Shit! Last night unfortunate accident has cost me pain and earned me two stifling baby-sitters. I suddenly wished I had completely bled out. That would have worked had I done the deed while alone.

“How many times are you going to ask me that?” I snap back. The Samaritan’s questions centered around my memory every time I woke from sleep. I wondered if he expected me to lose my marbles. I would not blame that line of thinking since I at times wondered if I still had my sanity. 

I slightly contemplate feigning amnesia but quickly abandoned the thought. With amnesia, the Samaritan would see it his duty to help my misfortune. He would designate himself my constant companion, something I did not need.

I make an effort not to groan loudly as the Samaritan smiles at my disposition. It dawns to me that he is one of those annoying people who were always cheery no matter the circumstance. With his best smile, he asks how I am feeling.

“Could I have a glass of water?” I ask instead. Somehow, I knew that telling him how crappy I felt was not going to help either of us, since he would keep his smile and be cheery about it, while I would still feel like killing him.

I watch his retreating back as he rushes out of the room to do my bidding. The Samaritan seems to have free reign of my house. It appeared like you trusted him to let him take charge of my house. My eyes turn to you to find you looking at me. I ignore your censure look. I wonder how it is that you have not yet burst an aneurysm with all those hard looks you have directed my way.   

The Samaritan comes back and hands me a glass. I grimace as a new pain grips my hand while I move to grab the glass. It is ridiculous, how the slightest movement from my upper body seemed to affect my bandaged hand. It was also maddening how there was nothing I could do about it.

With exaggerated patience, I let the Samaritan fuss over me. After the water he insists on feeding me. I take a few spoonfuls before faking exhaustion to get rid of both of you. I close my eyes, listening to the footsteps as they left the room. My eyes open once I am satisfied that the room is empty and quickly head to my medicine cabinet. I have a great need to take something that would knock me out, something to make me forget my pain. 

“There is nothing there.” You say from behind me as I open the cabinet. I had not heard you get back to the room. I smile mentally. I am not the only one prone to sneaking. 

“I do not know what you are talking about.” I close the cabinet having confirmed your statement. It does not come to a surprise that you have cleared my cabinet of my stash. It was becoming a game to us; me hiding and you finding. You loved the game yet I hated it since you derived me from my pleasures. All was not yet lost since I knew of some hiding places you did not. 

“I am speaking of what you are looking for.” You say with a knowing look.

I tried not to smile at your words. It seems like you are practicing censorship today. You were not going to call them by the street names you thought you knew.  I decide to also play coy. I point to my left wrist, “I need painkillers.”

“They are by your bedside table.” You say going along with my lie.

This is new, this is different. You always catch me out on a lie, yet today you pretend it is gospel. Yesterday’s events must have shaken you more than I imagined. I walk back to the bed and swallow the pills you hand over to me. Your posture is more alert than usual. You pull a chair by my bed as I slip into bed to keep watch. 

There is a look of defeated about you. I sigh loudly and make myself more comfortable. You deserved this little victory. Today, I’ll let you win. I’ll sleep sober for the first time in a long time. As sleep crept closer I hope you enjoy this little triumph, for I knew it would not last. I knew myself very well, there is no way I would survive for long without my daily dose of supplements.

Wednesday...

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

SELF DISCOVERY

Bang!

The sound of the bullet leaving its chamber. The cold metal pierces through my head scrambling my skull, spluttering my brain on the dark alley wall. My eyes widen with the shock of my impending death when my body falls on the cold cement with a big thud. Coldness creeps through me, I try to say just one more word before I breathe my last, but all is lost as I chock ready to expire into the next world. That is it, I think. I wake up suddenly before the darkness envelopes my nightmare to find my silky sheets strangling me. I untangle myself from the mess. I was no stranger to waking up to this, yet it’s been long since I woke up like this. I believe this was triggered by the recent death of my lover.

Death.

Humanity’s greatest mystery. It always seems like a big secret that everyone has an idea of but does not what the real truth is. What we know of death is what we perceive and from our interactions with others. A Christian view is that only God knows. To me, it is just one of those riddles that we will get answers to the second we die, not a moment before. I have often wondered how my life would cancel itself. Whether it will be from natural causes, or by my own hand or from violence?

Someone once told me thinking of suicide means you are suicidal. I won’t deny that such thoughts have never crossed my mind. Suicide, another huge topic altogether. There are many different ways in which a person can take their own lives. I know this because some cleaver idiot wrote a book about it making me wonder what goes on in people’s minds. Didn’t this author know that he is making himself an accomplice to every suicidal act his reader does? I also wonder why no one has thought of suing him yet. Maybe it is because he is Australian and not American. If there is one country that loves suing, it is the United States of America. I think it is the only place in the world whereby a person can sue himself for money and get away with it.

There goes my mind again, wandering, visiting places I have no pass to in the first place. Back to death, my death in particular. For one, I never wanted to die of old age. I had seen people who had lived long and I didn’t desire it. Looking at them made me realize life runs in stages;

  1. It all begins with one being silly and feeble minded,
  2. Then one starts thinking they are two mature for anything,
  3. Stage three, one actually being responsible and mature and acting like it,
  4. And the final stage, you start being silly and feeble minded again.

Those who live long tend to act like babies, toddlers to be guided. I was thankful that I had gone through my toddler stage and sure didn’t want to go through that again.

From the way my life was not long ago, I did see myself dying like my memorable nightmare. Such dark macabre thoughts one would wonder coming from a lady. If you have walked my path, such thoughts would not be further from your mind too. I really don’t know what perfect word I should use to describe my life this far or what my name means. There are those who believe that names play a crucial role in ones life. I don’t know if mine influenced my life or not. I’m Lucky. My name is Lucky. I was born in a Kenyan slum and where else could this be if not in the beautiful city of Nairobi. It is from one of these slums that I was conceived, born and raised.

My father was literate but not educated. The furthest he went in schooling was finishing high school. His final grade wasn’t much, which meant his learning was cut short. An optimist, this didn’t hamper my father for he decided he could find a job to push him through, before getting into his long term plan which was business. The thought of running something he called his on was all he dreamed of. The job market was tough. In the end my dear father was hired as a watchman for some rich man. He wasn’t earning much but he had a place to stay and he could at least buy food. Life didn’t seem bad although there was one thing my dear dad did not count on and that was love – mankind’s weakness.

Father met mother and was foolish enough to fall in love with her. I don’t blame him because if you had met my mother you would have fallen in love with her. She was beautiful – I should know because I was blessed with her looks, because everyone who knew my mother says I do resemble her. A number of times when people actually though I was she. There was also the factor of me knowing how I easily turned heads.

Unlike my father, mother was not lucky with schooling. Yes she could write and she struggled to read. She had dropped out of school in primary when her parents died and she also didn’t have anyone to rely on. At the time my father met her she was working as a maid in the same area my father worked at. At that time mother was sixteen and father was twenty. I really don’t know or wanted to know the specifics of the courtship. All I know is that they fell in love and they married. No church wedding nor did they register with the District commissioner. They just decided they were married and according to common law that was enough. I was a result of this union.

Everything looked good for them but they didn’t seem to count on death. I was two when my father had the misfortune of dying in a matatu car crush. My mother was inconsolable. The only thing that cheered her was the fact that she had me. She went on working as a maid to provide for both of us. She put me in school stressing as how it was important. My mother wasn’t educated but she taught me a lot.

When she was alive, she was the center of my universe. She made sure I lacked for nothing, and that I did not feel alone or abandoned because my father was dead. Everything went on well for a while but yet again fate decided to play its hand again. Mother died when I was in my last term and last year of high school. Death caused by malaria. That is what her death certificate said. Maybe I should thank God that he waited that long before he took her since I can’t imaging what would have happened to me had it been sooner.

Her death was a blow. She was the only living relative I had. Just when I was at my lowest, Tom re-appeared with a whirl. Tom’s mother had been a neighbor and my mother friend. Can’t say I remember much about her. All I knew was about her was the fact that she was a single mother. She died when Tom was in his early teens, I was much younger then. With no one to care for him, mother invited him into our home. He moved in with us. It was peaceful at first before his strange behavior begun. Tom started disappearing, sleeping out. The rumors began in wake of this. Some said he had joined some gang. All sort of crime that happened was attributed to him. Mother wasn’t happy. She tried talking to him to no avail. With time his visits lessened then stopped. As young as I was, I knew my mother was troubled by Tom’s leaving but there wasn’t much she could do.

Tom took charge of the things I had no clue about. He arranged for the funeral and stood by me. He encouraged me to go back to school and do my exams. At the time, I needed guidance. I was glad for following his when I learned I passed my finals. I wasn’t a complete genius, but my grades weren’t bad. I got a B+. It was hard to get a scholarship with such qualifications but they were good enough to get me into university. Something I knew my parents would have been proud since I was fulfilling my dream and theirs too.

Waiting to go to university wasn’t fun or easy. I barely had the money to feed myself or pay my meager rent. The family my mother worked for had been kind enough to give me some money to push me through for awhile. Tom was now a constant visitor. Giving me support and keeping the loneliness away. I believe at first it was because he felt it was the least he could do in honor of my mother. This soon changed with the mutual attraction which developed into a romance.

I got to know Tom better. He was a private man; there was much of him that always seemed mystery. He also didn’t talk much but he didn’t fail to tell me what he did when I asked. As rumors go, there was a basis to it. Tom was a thug. It begun after his mother died. Tom joined a small time crew in the neighborhood. They did small things like pick pocketing, mugging, breaking and entering. As time passed, it was only natural that his appetite grew. With his intelligence, he became popular and soon he was running the crew. Under his leadership, they moved into the major leagues. At the time of my mother’s death, it was his criminal organization had grown under the guise of legitimate business they actually ran.

It didn’t take much convincing from him for me to move in with him. He said I needed change, I deserved better. I moved into his sanctuary as he called his house that not many knew about and we played house. I met his right hand man “Schwarz” a corrupt form of Schwarzenegger the actor turned governor. I never really got to know Schwarz really name who was all muscle and less brain. The good thing about him was that he was loyal and he quickly took a liking to me unlike some of Tom’s cohorts. One can not blame them. The man they looked up to and trusted had suddenly brought a new face into their group. None of them really knew me, guess they just didn’t know whether to trust me or not. Soon they begun opening up. It was like I had always been part of them.

College opened, I wanted to join. Tom once again stood by me saying that I had the right to fulfill my dreams. My tuition fee wasn’t a problem; the CDF (Constitution Development Fund) and the government could help me with that. As for other expenses, Tom was quick to provide. Even after knowing the source of his money, I was not ashamed to take it. I was now very much involved with Tom’s life, there were no secrets between us. I confess that there was once or twice I helped them out. Tom only had one rule when he let me in, to never be at the front line of whatever they did. I was okay wit that. When asked once by someone in his crew why he let me present whenever they met, Tom told them that it was because I was the only woman who would ever understand him. After such statement, it was not surprising what happened when I was in my second year of college.

Tom’s gang had just robbed a bank; it hadn’t been a success yet there was also a loss with two of his men being killed during a shoot out with the police as they were getting away. While they were dividing everyone’s cut, I left the dingy room for a smoke plus I didn’t think I was needed. I had just stepped out when I felt the pressure of a gun on my temple.

“Just the person I want. This must be my lucky day!” The man behind the voice laughed amused at his own twist of word. The voice was familiar.

“What can I do for you Philo?” I said with confidence though I could literally feel my heart shrinking. Philo was part of the crew though he had not joined them in the latest escapade. I didn’t know the specifics why and I didn’t ask. Philo was never forth coming so I never bothered chatting with him before.

“Ahh, sweetheart. There is much you can do. With you in danger, your boyfriend would do anything I ask him to do. Now I would ask you very nicely to move towards the car very slowly,” he said increasing the pressure of the gun.

This situation was ridiculous to me. Being kidnap was never something I had ever imagined of. “Pointing the gun isn’t going to get you anything. Tom is a reasonable man you should talk to him about whatever-”

I fell silent when I felt Philo unhook the trigger’s safety. “Not another word!” We were halfway toward the car when I heard Schwarz calling my name. Philo froze bringing me to a halt. Schwarz’s cussed loudly and shouted for Tom. Soon everyone from the room spilled into the alley.

“You alright honey?” Tom’s voice was calm.

“Yeah,” I said despite the chills I felt. I was very much afraid because I knew there were many guns pointed in Philo’s direction, my direction. To this day, I can’t say I remember what happened next. One moment, Tom was trying to reason with Philo when I heard the bang, the hiss of the bullet passing by my ear and into Philo’s head. He was dead before he hit the ground.

“Did I miss much?” Johnny asked putting his recently fired gun back into its holster. He had appeared from the direction of the car. Johnny was a corrupt cop who was more in the crew. He was on his way to collect his cut just in time to save the day.

“Nothing much” Tom said as he thanked him and walked towards me still frozen at the spot. “Come, let’s go home.” Was all Tom said before he dragged me away from the corpse. It’s that event that brought the birth of my nightmares, the birth of all my fears, the birth to the end our relationship. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t think, I felt dead. I couldn’t stand Tom, I wanted out.

One morning, I went for class as usual and never went back home. I lodged with one of my college friends for a while. I fell to drink, I fell to pleasure. I met the beautiful, sophisticated and moneyed Ruth. A senior student who showed a lot of interest in me. I didn’t know at first that she was recruiting. Ruth was a mistress and proud of it, she loved herself and anything else that promised prestige and glitter. There was a rich married business man Ruth knew who needed a kept woman. At first I resisted then I remembered that I was getting broke with no source of money. The only way out of it was by moving backwards instead of forward. Tom had shown me the good side of life and I needed to maintain that.

There was no way I was going back to the slum where everyone seemed hungry and angry. The slum brought the worst of people like it did to this guy I knew in passing - Can’t say I remember his name. Anyway, this guy had a frustrating life so much that his brain couldn’t function anymore. He was bordering suicide. From what I heard, he and some other idiots were paid to riot by some politicians. They guy did it and got killed in the process. Killed for what exactly; no one knows nor do people remember his name. We just remembered that he was killed all because he was paid peanuts to do something stupid. One lesson I learned from his experience was you should never let a politicians convince you into doing something for him. You can do that if you are looking for a quick passport to the afterlife. With such thoughts, I agreed to Ruth’s proposition. She introduced me to the business man, Duncan.

Duncan got me an apartment, a car and an endless supply of money all in the name of having a beautiful woman who wasn’t his wife by his side. I would not try and pretend that I understood his kind yet I was not about to question or complain. I followed Ruth’s advice by playing it smart. For every money Duncan gave me, I secretly saved some. Life was looking up. It wasn’t long though before I discovered his dark side. Duncan was a violent man who seemed to like taking it out on women. He showed me this one day when he beat me up. I could not take it. I tried to leave but he somehow found out and beat me up again and monitored my every movement. Once again I hit it low in life. No once could help me. It was a grave I had dug for myself. In desperation I called Tom though I didn’t have the courage to speak when he picked up. I cut the connection and didn’t pick up when he called back. A week later, Duncan was kidnapped. He went missing for a number of days and when he appeared, Duncan was a changed man. He became skittish and paranoid especially when around me. I ceased to hold any appeal to him. He told me I was to stay in the flat for six more months, he told me to keep the car. He stopped visiting.

It didn’t take me long to add it all up. Tom was behind it. Ever since I left Tom, I had always heard a feeling I was being watched. If I needed prove here it was. My deduction was that my call had sprung him into action. I knew that would forever have me watched and would only interfere if I was in need. I didn’t exactly send him a thank you card. I sent him a present saying I thought it was something he needed. At the time Duncan left, my bank account was looking pretty good. I finished college. With the money I started a business. I had a hair salon that was doing well but I had gotten a taste of easy money and couldn’t resist going back in the game. This time I caught myself a politician. Yes I remembered what I said about politicians. I got into this relationship with my eyes wide opened. I wasn’t going to let him convince me into doing anything for him. Peter was a famous politician with children a bit older than I was. I’ll admit that I had some affection for him. He treated me as a queen. During my duration with him, I grew. My business expanded. I open two more chains of my hair salon. Peter bought me a house. Finally I had a place I could call home. Everything seemed fine though truth be told, it was not. Deep down I wanted what most women wanted. I wanted love, I wanted children yet I also knew I could never have that with Peter. Life can never be perfect. Not long ago, I got a call from Peter’s friend. Peter was dead.

“That is sad!” I thought to say. I didn’t see any reason as to why I should break my daily routine. Later I met up with Ruth and toasted to the kind generous man who had looked for love in the wrong places.

It was that night that the nightmare recurred. I got out of bed and walked to the kitchen to fix myself a drink. The thought of death, of my life got me thinking hard. I could not continue living the way I was. I wanted more and I was the only person who could get me what I wanted. I needed a plan. I fell asleep that night in the living room with the television on. Partly because I was scared of going to bed alone for the first time in years, the other reason was because my mind was still devising a plan. There was only one person I could think of and who fit with my plan perfectly.

“Hello. It is Lucky” There was a pause on the other end of the phone after my announcement. My bet was that the other person was not expecting my call. It was two days after my nightmare and this call was to determine my next move in life.

“Hello Lucky. How are you?” hearing Tom’s voice warmed me.

“I am fine. Could I see you today?” I asked.

“Are you sick? Do you have a problem?” I could hear his underlining panic. It made me smile.

“Nothing is wrong. I just need to see you soon,” I said.

“I’m kinda busy,” Tom wasn’t going to make it easy.

“Oh… I was hoping I could talk to you about something.” I made myself sound depressed.

“I could make time this evening,” he said after a pause, “where should we meet?” I suggested my place. He accepted and rung off without asking for directions. I wasn’t surprised. He didn’t need to ask because he knew where I lived.

My door bell rung at exactly seven. I let it ring one more time. I didn’t want to appear over excited belying the fact that I had been preparing myself ever since the phone call. I opened the door and there stood the man my heart always sung for. Our eyes met with the ever present fire between us.

“Schwarz?” I managed to ask. There was no way Tom would go anywhere without his constant shadow.

“Gone to do some errands,” Tom explained. Truthfully, I was not really interested in Schwarz especially now when my mind only had one thought. It had been years, our bodies were calling to each other. I quickly closed the door; we barely made it to my bedroom.

“Nice room.” Tom said between puffs from his cigarette. He had retrieved his abandoned trouser from the floor, pulled out a cigarette and lay sprawled on my bed.

“Thanks. I did the interior design my self.” I said.

“Rented?” It was not really a question. It sounded more like he needed a confirmation.

“No.” I said.

“Your lover’s?” There was some anger in the question.

“It is in my name. I bought it with his help.” I simply said.

“Sounds like a generous man.” He said dryly.

“He was. He is dead.” I said knowing very well that he knew that.

“My condolences. Did you kill him?” I couldn’t resist bursting out in laughter at that. The thought of it was ludicrous.

“It was a heart attack. The last I saw him was two weeks before his death.” I clarified. Peter had died while he was with his family for some vacation thank God.

“Are you hungry? I have prepared your favorites for dinner.” I changed the subject. I really didn’t want to talk about Peter.

“Why did you call me here?” Tom cut into the matter. He never liked dilly dallying.

“I wanted to see you.” I had to trend carefully.

“Well here I am.” Tom was not going to make it easy.

“After some thinking, I have come to realized that I have done some mistakes that I am not proud of. I have realized that I need to make some changes in my life. I need what makes me happy. In plain words, I want you back.” There it was. I had stripped myself bare for him.

“Just like that?” I could tell that Tom was taken aback. He might have had a clue on what would go down but he hadn’t though it would be this way.

“Yes just like that.” I said.

“You… You bitch” Tom was clearly not amused. He got up and stared pacing like a caged animal.

“I could be a bitch, call me that will not stop you for being what you are. You created me. We are in the same family with you being the Alpha dog. You and I are not very different as you once said.” I said unfazed by his outburst.

“That was years ago and I was clearly wrong like you proved by leaving.” Tom’s voice was slightly raised.

“Yes I left. My reasons then were muddled. All this does not change the fact that we are more or less the same. You steal from the rich; my target is also the rich. I agree that our methods are the only things that make us different. I have also stolen. I have taken away from other women their husbands’ love for my own gain.” There was no way I could sugar coat it for myself.

“That’s just it. I know and I accept what I am but unlike you, I do not use my body to get what I want.” Tom raged on calling me all sort of names he could think of. I sat there and took it all in. I was seeing what I had done for the first time from his point of view. I had hurt Tom badly. Nothing in the world could change that and I deserved everything he said and maybe more but I was not going to give up easily.

“I’m sorry.” Was the only thing I could say after he had exhausted himself. He threw his hand up in frustration and sat on the bed.

I do not know what you could call this situation. There we were seated on the bed, each of us facing opposite wall thinking what the next step would be.

“Would you like to have the dinner now?” I asked. I never could stand silence.

“Food? Now? Are you serious? Why are you insisting on the food? Is it poisoned?” Tom turned towards me.

“Jesus Christ!” I stood up in anger. “Am I capable of poisoning? And even if I was do you think I would poison you of all people?” I knew he had the right to think the worst of me, but poison was taking it beyond.

“Oh, seat down” Tom said.

“Not until you apologize for what you said.” I stood my ground.

“Excuse me?” Tom was taken aback. “You’re crazy. I am beginning to wonder what I ever saw in you,” he went on.

“The same thing has dawned to me too,” I was still angry though I wasn’t sure what the true source of my anger was.

“There must be something sweetheart, or else I won’t have been here at this moment.” Tom could not resist smiling. His macho ego kicked in. Tom always thought highly of himself.

“You must have also seen something or else you won’t have come.” I threw back at him.

“Are you trying to turn the tables on me?” Tom frowned. I shrugged as I heard him mutter “unbelievable” under his breath. “Tell me. How did you picture this going down?” Now his curiosity took over.

“I honestly didn’t know what to expect. I was banking on the fact that we could discuss the matter.” I sat down seeing that we were back to the main topic and there was no hopes of Tom apologize soon.

“What’s there to discuss?” Tom asked.

“It depends on your response. If your answer is no then there is nothing to discuss, however if you agree then I believe there is much to discuss.” I said.

“I’m listening.” Tom gave the go ahead.

“Oh, okay!” I was a bit taken back. I hadn’t expected to have to reach this far in the conversation so soon.

“Well? What is it?” Tom probed.

“I have one problem.” I began.

“What is it?” He was never a patient man.

“I want Evelyn gone. I have shared before and I didn’t mind it then but I draw a line when it comes to you.” I blunted out. Evelyn was Tom’s current lover. I knew quite a lot about her. There had been together for almost two years but she didn’t live with him, and she didn’t know what Tom did. She thought that he was a hard working business man.

“How do you know about her? Have you been spying on me?” Tom sounded a little amused.

“Just returning the favor.” I said with a smile.

“Does this mean that I have spies in my organization?” Tom asked more seriously.

“If I knew of anyone damaging to you, I would have told you ages ago.” I said and I knew he believed me.

“How will you know if I truly let her go?” Tom asked.

“I have my sources. I know of her now, I will know if she is still in the picture.” I said confidently.

“You were always good at getting information. I won’t be surprised if you have your own spy network” Tom said.

“You used to say that.” The memories brought a smile on my lips. When we were together, Tom was always amazed by the fact that I easily obtained information on anything I or he wanted.

“Is that all?” Tom inquired standing up. This was one of the longest discussions he had ever had.

“One more thing.” I said with hesitation.

“I am beginning to regret why I asked you to speak. I will soon develop a headache” He grumbled. “Go on.” He signaled with his hand.

“If we are going to stay together, I need nuptials this time.” I let out the second bomb of the day.

“Have you lost your mind? Next you will be telling me to change my lifestyle.” Tom raised his voice. I guess to him it sounded like I wanted him to change.

“Calm down, would you? I have always known who you are. I will never ask you to change who you are for me that is a promise I’ll make to you.” I said. I was being truthful by saying that. Though I won’t lie and say I was happy that he was in organized crime.

“There is no way I will parade myself in front of people in the name of marrying.” Tom said with emphasis.

“Don’t worry. I wasn’t thinking of doing that to you.” I said. The thought of doing all that was not appealing to me too. All I wanted was for us to legally be husband and wife.

“You have lost me. I don’t think I get what you are saying.” Tom frowned.

“It’s ok. I will explain it another day.” I laughed following his example by dressing. My heart felt much lighter now.

“I have a question of my own.” Tom asked as I finished dressing.

“Shoot.” I said happily.

“Had I stormed out in response what would you have done?” Tom inquired. It was one of his greatest strengths wanting to know what was on both sides of the coin. I didn’t answer right away. What I was about to say was not going to be to his liking.

“In our time together I believe that I got to learn much about you. I am proud of the fact that aside from yourself, I am the only one who knows what makes you tick. It has been awhile I know but I know you haven’t changed.” I pause.

“Then you know I hate waiting.” Tom threatened and I ignored his comment.

“I went to see my doctor today. According to her, the possibility of me conceiving today is very high.” My eyes diverted from Tom’s eyes to the bed.

“What?” Tom shouted. I looked into his eyes and held his gaze. His eyes widen as the realization of what I had said sunk in.

He cussed very loudly, and then muttered other cusses under his breath as he paced around with rage. It was intimidating. I wanted to duck out of the room but I didn’t want him to see me as a coward. Suddenly, he stopped pacing and stared at me. He was looking at me as though he was seeing me in a new light. Then he did the unexpected. He threw back his head and gave a deep gut felt laugh.

“Remind me never to underestimate you in the future.” He said after a long while. “I think I will have that dinner now. My favorite you said? I have to admit I missed your cooking” Tom made it for the door.

“Come on, what are you waiting for?” He asked seeing that I was rooted to the spot.

“I…. Are you…” I was at loss of words. His reaction was a surprise.

“What? Have you changed your mind? I thought your aim was to have me back?” Tom asked.

“It is just that I though you would be really mad after what I said.” I said honestly.

“Let’s just say that you are lucky it is you and no one else telling me that.” Tom said. I get it now. I meant greatly to him therefore I could get away with much. “I believe all this talking has made me hungry. Could we get to the kitchen?" Tom extended his hand towards me with his melting smile. It was a smile that not many people saw.

The affection I had once known was back in his eyes. I confidently took his hand and led his to my kitchen. At that very moment I become sure of many things. For one, I knew that I would not have any nightmares that night. I was never again going to think up of ways to die, or other suicidal thoughts. There was no way for me to know for sure that my brain will not splutter on a cold pavement one day. What I was now praying for was dying in my bed. With Tom by my side old age didn’t seem to bother me anymore. This had been a journey, and I have finally discovered myself, who I was, and who I would be. The future was bright. I felt like screaming, “Hey everyone, this is me. I am Lucky!”