Samantha



As the morning light blinded my eyes, I sat up straight with a stiff neck, I groaned when I realised that I dozed off and ended up sleeping here on the couch yesterday.

I have spent most of the night googling Bavumile but all my searches led nowhere, nothing was mentioned him except the fact that he murdered several people and confessed.

I stripped off my clothes and stepped into the shower, my mind drifted back to Bavumile, back to his brown and green eyes that seemed to hold such deep secrets, secrets that he only knew.

I let the hot water massage my stiff bones, I mentally kicked myself. I never let myself get too involved in the convicts pasts, I always find it easier that way so that I won’t judge them based on what they did, even though they may tell me what happened I would still would not be able to judge them because I have not seen the crime scene photos.

But with Bavumile it was different after all it was my first time having to meet a convict who was in max holding cells.

This time I wanted to know what was I getting myself to, how I wish I hadn’t requested to see his file.

I wrapped a towel on my body and went to my bedroom and applied some lotion. I wondered how it was like for him to be arrested at 17 years of age and knowing that he will be spending the rest of his life in prison.

I found myself feeling sorry for that little boy who was maybe confused at the time, scared and alone. But now looking at him, he did not look like the scared little boy after spending 12 years in prison.

He looked tough, like that place had toughened him up and shaped him into being the man that he was today.

I looked at my laid out clothes on the bed and settle for the dark blue dress and took my handbag that had my bible and walked out.