Sanele returns to the flat late Sunday morning, wearing the same clothes he left in the day before. He is tipsy, holds a can of beer in one hand and a fresh six pack in the other.
“Why is the door unlocked?” is the first thing he asks as he walks in. Then, after looking around, “Where are my things?”
“Buhle came and took them,” Ntsiki reports from her place on the couch, where she is scrolling her phone.
Sanele throws the beer onto the kitchen counter, clenches his fists and stomps towards to her.
“Buhle?!” he shouts. “You let Buhle into my place and gave her my things?!”
“No! I said she came and took your things. You locked me in here, remember?”
“You did not stop her? You did not call me? You just let it happen?” he shouts when he gets to her.
“You disappeared and switched your phone off. What was I supposed to do?” Ntsiki asks, as she finds her feet.
“You could have stopped her!” he yells.
“Really? You must be crazy!” Ntsiki screams back. She can’t believe this is the same guy she first met. He has changed into a monster.
Her insult earns her a heavy slap across her face. She tumbles back onto the couch, stunned.
But Sanele is not done. He grabs hold of her braids, plucks her off the couch and throws her to the floor. Her phone goes flying. Ntsiki cries out as she lands belly first. Terrified, she tries to crawl away. He stomps her, his shoe landing on her back and knocking the air out of her.
“Crazy!” he yells with another kick. “I fetch you from the slums. I give you a roof and you call me crazy!?”
Ntsiki spots her phone a distance away. Sanele follows her gaze and beats her to it. He raises his foot, brings it crashing onto the phone and, devilishly, watches it shatter.
“That old hag and little friend of yours, they won’t help you!” he sneers at her.
“Why are you doing this?” Ntsiki cries, as she makes another desperate attempt to crawl towards the door.
“All you girls are the same! You want my money! You want a shortcut to a nice life and you think you can seduce a guy like me to get to it! Well, I am not stupid. That doll-faced Buhle only came onto me when I got rich. Then, she took all my stuff. Now you want to milk me, Ntsiki? I am going to teach you a lesson!” Sanele barks as he rushes after her, grabs hold of her arm and pulls her up to her feet.
“You think you are rich just because you are living off a dead man’s money?” Ntsiki shouts as she fights to pull away.
“Shut up! You don’t know anything!” he roars.
“Buhle told me everything!” Ntsiki spits at him.
“I told you to shut up.”
Ntsiki manages to free herself and makes a run for the door. Sanele lunges after her, grabs hold of her braids before she reaches the door and yanks her back, hooks an arm around her and lifts her off her feet. He slams her onto the floor. Ntsiki can barely catch her breath before kicks rain down all over her.
“I hate you,” Ntsiki coughs out defiantly.
It enrages him more. He stops long enough for her to watch his face twist into a deadly expression. He advances, kicks her head viciously.
Sanele continues to shout and insult her until he realises that she has stopped moving. He has knocked her unconscious. He smirks in triumph before he heads to the kitchen to drink the rest of his beer.
***
Tell us what you think: Is there anything Ntsiki could have said or done to avoid a beating, once Sanele realised Buhle had taken some stuff?