Simbongile

Junior looked at me with fear in his eyes as I approached him. This time I knew exactly what I was about to do, unlike the last time.

I plunged the knife in his chest and stabbed him twice, and just like that he went down on the floor, not moving, the knife sticking out of his chest.

I walked over to his corpse and went to the kitchen. I continued cooking as if nothing had happened. When I was done, I dished up for myself, I even poured myself a glass of wine and went to sit down and eat with Junior’s body lying a few feet away from me.

When I was done, I called the police, sitting on the couch, with a cigarette on my left finger. This was the most relaxed I have ever been. I heard the siren first before I could see the flashing blue lights. When the police walked in they looked at the crime scene in shock and regret for the many times that Junior tried to tell them about me.

I didn’t give them the chance to drag me from the couch. I placed my wine glass on the coffee table, squashed the cigarette with my feet, and turned around with my hands behind my back and let them handcuff me.

I didn’t shed a tear when I looked at Junior’s dead body one last time before the police officer pushed me out of the door. I didn’t even feel any guilt. We could have avoided this if he chose to be with me. But he had to be difficult, and now he had to face the consequences.

When we got into the police I confessed everything; I didn’t bother beating around the bush or even letting out crocodile tears.

2 May

At the court

It only took two weeks for me to stand before the judge. The courtroom was fully packed and amongst the crowd was Sihle and my parents looking at me with disgust and shame. I didn’t even know why I still called them my parents; I guess it was just force of habit. I wanted to tell them that they were to blame for this too, for always choosing Sihle over me, but I kept quiet and turned to face the front.

“All rise.”

It took the judge 30 minutes to reach his final decision. He stated that he found me guilty of culpable homicide, stalking, and break-ins and also added the charge of hit and run. I got 90 years in prison with no possibility of parole.

I heard someone cry, probably Missy. It’s surprising how she still stood by me even when she shouldn’t; soon after I heard praises in uproar as the crowd rejoiced. I thought I would be in shock, maybe even shed a tear or two but I felt empty inside, hollow like an empty can.

I turned and looked at Missy and smiled at her, which I hoped was a reassuring smile. The guard took me away. When I walked away from the courtroom, I walked out with my head held high, refusing to be seen as weak, even though I would have to spend the rest of my life in prison.

By the end of the day, I was already assigned a cell. I sighed when I walked in, taking in the smell that I had not missed when I was outside. I lay on the bed with my hands under my head, a smile displayed on my face knowing that Sihle lost the man that she stole from me. Now she would have to feel the pain that I had been feeling when I had to watch her live my life with no ounce of guilt.

It didn’t matter that I would die here in prison and that I would never see life outside these high walls again, at least now I knew that Sihle would feel the pain of losing Junior for the rest of her life. The thought made me happy.

As I lay in the bed that was hurting my back, I lay there content and free. I closed my eyes and hummed a song and blocked everything out of my head. “Soon, very soon my love, we will meet in the spirit world.” My voice echoed in the empty cell.

Tell us: what did you think of this story? And did you enjoy the way it was published in instalments?