The Side We Choose to See

"When I entered the bedroom, Paul was snoring and had his face turned towards my pillow. I lay on the bed for a while, willing myself to sleep. I must have fallen asleep for some time because I woke up with a thud. I don't know what came over me at this point. I reached under the bed and drew out a machete which had been hidden there since the time Paul stopped going to the farm. I turned on Paul and started cutting him up. My first hit must have killed him because I heard a muffled sound and that was it. The machete, though blunt, cut him deep in the general vicinity of his collarbone. The machete went up and came down again, I don't know where that landed but there was a furious splatter of warm blood on my face. I hit again and again and again................ harder and harder. My strength increased vigorously and I saw something unrecognizable, perhaps a hand, land in a thud on the floor". With beautiful bright eyes and sparkling white teeth, Cyndi's attitude is that of a sophisticated and illustrious middle-aged woman but she is only twenty-five years old. With legs crossed, she seemed poised and hummed a noncommittal song; a grin hovered at the corners of her pronounced mouth. There was a tinge of amusement in her eyes and her posture struck as being one of boredom. "I must mention that my high school certificate places me among the top five percentile of distinguished students - impressive, huh? I've been told I'm cute by many, and your guess is right, majority of my admirers were men. What won't they say to get into a woman's pants? Even though my motivations for sleeping with men have always been money and power, I have always been circumspect with my choice of men. I'm not a prostitute, don't get me wrong but in all my years of being sexually active, I have never been with a man because I loved them. I always chose them even before they chose me. I don't know if you understand this concept. Men always think they choose us women to be their partners but they don't realize that even a woman allows them to propose, accept their contact numbers and what not. A woman would have preconditioned her mind to allow such sequence of events to occur. I have not had too many boyfriends, I hope you believe that. This is because I have always been cautious of the person I choose to associate with. Obviously no ordinary guy would do; they must be affluent to a certain degree. It's all about rewards for me. I believe it's all about rewards for every woman. Women don't talk about such matters due to the potential judgment by other women who may confess it's all about love. The sheer deceit of it all makes my skin crawl. Both men and women enter relationships for rewards. They want sex and flattery and women want comfort and more comfort so we exchange. The trade-off is not deception or cheating. For me, if I feel there is any sort of imbalance, I right the wrong by taking my fair share. What makes men think that they can just take what they want from women and walk on by the next minute? What makes older men who pursue young women who are young enough to be their children think that the women stay with them purely because of love? It isn't even about the sex; believe me, for without Viagra some of the old men can't perform satisfactorily. We choose and stay with them because of all the material gains attached to the relationships, short-term or otherwise. So l reiterate if I feel there is any sort of imbalance between what I give and I expect to receive, I right the wrong by taking my fair share. Perhaps it is because I took what I considered as my share, that's why I'm in here. This is my second time in prison for the same offence. I didn't mention that earlier, did I?" "In a few minutes, they were gone and the room was quiet. The only sound that was audible to Catherine was her own heartbeat. She looked from the lubricant to the bag of pellets and sucked part of her lower lip into her mouth. What was she going to do? She contemplated so many things in her mind. What if she got caught at the airport? What if something terrible happened and the contents of the cocaine burst into her stomach? What if she died of fear? Was that possible, a person simply dying of fear and anxiety? She blew air out of her mouth as she sank herself onto the narrow bed. Her eyes were still glued on the options before her; K-Y jelly or slimy okro sauce for swallowing. None of the options seemed pleasant. She couldn't imagine how she could shove all the many pellets up her vagina; she doubted very much if she could also swallow them. She looked at the bedside clock which ticked by the second, she suddenly brightened up as an idea cropped up into her head……………… "