I got to the kitchen and picked up a random knife from the sink. I ran back determined to stab Alex in the heart. I was ready to kill this rapist. I was ready to drive the knife right through his chest and watch him bleed to death. I wanted to stab him multiple times in his heart. I did not mind cutting off his penis from his dead body, and roasting it in hot fire if that gets me my desired vengeance.
I struck my foot on the passage and tripped. With my hands stretched out like one about to take a dive in a pool, I fell flat to the floor like a crawling child learning how to walk. The knife in my hands escaped my grip and landed in front of me. The screeching sound of the knife's blade, brushed upon the flowery tile floor, causing its noise to echo in the quite apartment.
I was not deterred. I did not even stop to nurse the pains I felt on my foot. I did not wait to rest. I did not wait to catch my breath. No I did not.
I stood up like a determined boxer knocked to the floor by his opponents punch. I stood up and picked up the black knife. I picked up my weapon of vengeance and headed for Alex.
When I returned back to the spot I had left Alex, all I could see was the broken ceramic cup and spilled tea lying waste on the tiled floor. The slices of bread and eggs were scattered in tiny crumps. It had been soaked by the spilled tea on the floor.
Alex was no more there. Alex had suddenly disappeared. He had gone into hiding. How could he forget so soon? How could he forget how I slapped his face once when he attempted kissing me on my cheek in public? Such stupid show of romance.
How could he forget how I poured the cup of water on his head - on our very first date - when he told me I looked sexy. I watched with all happiness as the water drenched his suit.
I didn't care about the 'Y' in the 'Sexy'. All I heard was him say ' Sex' and that was enough to bring out the bitch in me again. I picked up the cup of water and turned it on his head. I watched it flow from the cup like a turned on pump. I walked out on him leaving him embarrassed before everyone.
As I walked out, I saw the question on everyone's face. They all looked at me, pondering what a man dressed in suit had done to deserve such embarrassment.
Alex had known about my anger long before I said yes to him. I had known him for three months now.
Alex had known what I could do when I get very angry and upset. I could tear down the house. I was a crazy bitch when angry. I was like a lion waiting to devoir its prey. I was like a violent thunder about to unleash on a city's transformer. I was crazy to an extent I could cause you regrettable pains. Before I met Alex, my anger had been felt by a considerable amount of men. Men who just wanted my number for a hook up. These were men who approached me asking to pay huge amounts just to have sex with me.They were everywhere. They were men like Dayo. Men who came in disguise of love, but ended up showcasing their real character and lustful attributes few weeks later. You have met such men. Men who told you how beautiful you were, when truly they meant to say how sweet you would look in bed. Men who told you how sexy you look in your dress, when truly they meant to say how much you looked like a sex toy.
Men who told you they loved you, when they should have just told you how much the loved the sizes of your breast. Men who told you they adored you, when they should have told you they admired your buttocks. These men came with sweet promises like Dayo.