Ntsiki opens her eyes and sees the ceiling. The light bulb flickers briefly before it bursts to life. Night has fallen. Pain flashes through her body. She’s confused. She grits her teeth and forces herself to roll onto her stomach, then, gingerly, she pulls herself onto her knees. Through the haziness, she sees blood on the floor. A touch to her head and she realises that it is hers.

The memory of her attack comes flooding back and panic forces her to stand. She searches for her backpack. She realises she may have left it in the bedroom. Ntsiki limps towards it and opens the door a crack. She sees Sanele passed out on the bed and she feels a nervous knot form in her stomach. He looks vulnerable and weak. Ntsiki imagines herself smothering him with a pillow.

She lets the thought float away and her eyes land on his jeans piled on the floor. She finds a wad of money in the front pocket and a handful of coins in the others. She creeps back out of the room and stashes the money in her backpack.

She collects her toiletries from the bathroom and returns to do one last sweep of the living room. Ntsiki spies Sanele’s phone on the couch and steals it. She feels for the spare key that Buhle had given her. Her fingers tremble as she struggles to slide the key into the keyhole. When it finally aligns, a loud click announces her freedom. Ntsiki imagines she hears Sanele groan in the next room; she does not wait to find out if he is awake but limps as fast as she can down the corridor.

The cold air is unforgiving on her skin as she tries to remember how they got to his building. She doesn’t know the city; it is dark. She asks someone where the bus station is; they stare at her in concern, and answer. She eventually finds it, in Ghandi Square.

She goes into the toilets and looks at herself in the mirror, shudders at her reflection. She is blood stained and swollen. Ntsiki splashes water on her face and wipes herself down with tissue paper. She pulls out a jersey from her backpack and slips it on to cover the bruises on her arms.

Too scared to head back into the night, she pulls out Sanele’s phone, finds that it flicks open without a password, and scrolls through it. Pictures of different girls flood his gallery, messages suggest multiple affairs – but there is more than enough airtime.

The screen indicates it is midnight. She dials Aluve’s number. Her friend does not answer.

After some hesitation, she dials her grandmother, who answers after the third ring.

“Gogo,” Ntsiki says as she fights back tears. “This is Ntsiki speaking. Can I come home?”

 ***

Tell us: Do you judge Ntsiki for taking the phone and money? Will she get home safely?