Tuesday, May 31, 2016

A Second Chance - Chapter Twenty-Eight


“Sometimes it’s the smallest decisions that can
change your life forever.”
—Keri Russell

The two girls woke up and found that they were lying side by side on the living room floor. Neither of them knew when they’d fallen asleep. Bisola got up first. She hurried into her bedroom for her cellphone, assuming either Tunde or Ben would have surely given her a call since in a couple of hours she’ll be serving as Ben’s spy and Tunde’s money bag. No calls from either of them.  Sitting on her bed, she breathed a sigh of relief.

It was only 11 A.M, but time was moving faster than Bisola wanted it to. She wished she could ask everything, including time to remain motionless for a couple more hours. She needed these hours to herself, to remain as she was before she would have to lose a part of her that she could never get back after tonight. Her cellphone began to vibrate in her palm. It was a call from her mother. She was sure she was going to ask after her sister. She’d been wanting to speak to her since she left but Bisola had since then been giving her mother way too many excuses for why she couldn’t talk to her daughter. Not the real reason. No. She couldn’t bring herself to explain things to her mother who she was certain wouldn’t understand. She refused to answer the call this time. She’d ran out of excuses and for today, she didn’t want to lie to her mother. Not when she was about to do all what she could do to get her sister back.

After allowing the call to go to voice-mail, Bisola began preparing for tonight. Tunde hadn’t bothered lecturing her the last time they were together on what to do tonight; he’d said she’d missed her orientation. Now she had to do it all alone. She walked into her closet and the first item she needed for tonight wasn’t exactly staring back at her. She knew she needed something sexy, something flirty to wear. But after trying on half the clothes in her closet, Bisola was convinced she wasn’t fit for the job.

The last time she’d paid an eleaborated amount of attention to her looks was the night shed been scheduled to meet with Ben. She’d wanted to make a good impression on him as she’d been instructed to that night. That had been the only reason she bought that dress. But even that night was different from tonight. But yes! The dress! She thought and went into a wild search for the shimmery gold dress she wore that evening. When she picked up the dress, she could still smell the scent from that evening, and it came with memories she wished she could lock up forever.

And as if someone had pressed the replay button on her brain, the memory of seeing Aisha stretched out on the hotel floor bleeding to death and the dead glare her murderer shot her way flooded her memories, the whole event sent goose bumps all over her arms. She immediately dropped the dress, afraid that the once beautiful dress was now filled with ill luck.

After gathering the other items she needed for tonight, she went about the rest of the day like any other day; as if she was living on borrowed time.

****
The day was getting younger by every minute unlike before, and darkness refused to come. She waited by the clock, watching every minute turn to hours and looking through her window for the sun to give way for the night. The ticking of the clock was slowly driving her mad. Her appointment wasn’t until midnight but Bisola was afraid she couldn’t wait any longer. The wait was going to kill her before her conscience gets the chance to. When she looked up at her wall clock again, it was exactly 8 P.M.  And it was time.
****
          Ben poured himself another full glass of whiskey, the fourth one for the night and resumed his position, lying stretched out on the bed with his work clothes still on. He’d come home early tonight because he’d been unable to concentrate while at work. He was doing something he’d thought he would be unable to do––blame himself for giving Bisola a gun he was sure she’d never used before nor had reasons to. How then did he expect her to protect herself against those men?
         
          “Dammit!” he grunted as if in pain. A part of him ached, a part he didn’t believe was still with him. He was not like Tunde. He told him. “I am not like him.” he said out of breath. His struggle to find justifiable reasons for by he was using an innocent girl for his revenge cause was taking him down guilty lane. He hadn’t been at rest since he gave her that gun he reminded himself and that was why he was drinking to help forget about her.

“Dammit!” he exhaled through his teeth, sitting upright with his hands folded under his chin. He stared at the full glass of whiskey for what felt like a century, looking for another way out of the mess he’d created. Another minute of silence passed and still he had no clue on what to do. He picked up the glass and drank its content in one full burning gulp. The need for him to seek vengeance scorched more than the fiery sensation in his throat as he swallowed the drink. When he laid the glass down, he knew he’d laid another thing down too––his pride. Without thinking about it for another second, he picked up his jacket and car key and slamed his bedroom door shut.

Ten minutes later he was in the middle of the road, waiting on the traffic light to turn green. The buzzing sound from his phone alerted him to stay focused on the road as he was starting to feel a slight headache. He pulled out his cell-phone to read the text message from Judith. Her words were written in all capital letters as if to stress the urgency in the text. “I NEED YOU BEN. I NEED YOU. PLEASE COME NOW. PLEASE.”

First he shook his head, thinking he was delirious from his excess drinking. Then he proceeded to reading the message again. The same words appeared on the screen. He could hear her pleading voice bleeding through the words on his screen as he read it over and over again. Then he tried calling her but got no answer­­­­­­­––voicemail. He tried Margret’s and got the same response. Ben only had two options now, he could either make take the right turn or keep straight ahead. Where he wanted to be, he had no definite idea. All what he could now hear were the honking sounds from impatient drivers as he remained frozen to his steering wheel.

3 comments:

  1. So which one will it be Ben?
    haha thank you for the read!!!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hehehe I've decided to make things hard on him from now on. But hey Ntsako, You're forever a faithful reader. I hope all is well with you.

      Delete
  2. Oh Ben what are you going to do now?????

    ReplyDelete

Thank you guys for always reading,