For most of you who have watched avengers end game, you'll understand what I am about to tell you. I sat on that bed, unable to utter a word, I understood that saying sorry would be a very stupid thing to do and since I do not know what Angela's dad was planning, I just folded my arms in between my legs and shifted uncomfortably between my left and right butt-cheeks (it's a real thing! Get caught first)
"Ring! Ring!" I hadn't noticed he was about to make a call, I had bent my head, imagining 100 ways to escape (yes! Including disappearing, entering the ground, or do the Dr. Strange's Rollie Rollie, I wondered how stupid I'd look if it didn't work though, stupid and guilty.)
“Hello DPO, yes! Good moreen....(did he just say DPO? And importantly Moreen?! Ha!) Yes we have a thief in my house, he also tried to sleep with my daughter (I wish I could insert a sticker depicting how shocked I was) yes 4 men would be good" he said and dropped the call.
I watched as he stood guard by the door, almost as if he understood my escape plan from hell (don't tag syvelster Stallone please).
Soon enough there was a loud siren outside, tears rolled down my eyes, I subtly started praying to God, promising him how I'd be more loyal than Joseph, more obedient than Samuel and those other guys that didn't fall for temptation, I even remembered saying I would drop offering more than twice if I got out of this, I'm pretty sure they laughed in heaven though..
I heard feets banging on the tiles as they came towards the door....
“afternoon sir, I am Inspector Lawal, these are my men" my ears perked up..
. "That's the this and rapist! Make sure you deal with him" he said, stupidly.
Tears began to roll down my cheeks again,sweat accompanied it in a race to show how sincerely sorry I am, unfortunately their race gave me the chills, I got cold, shivering from sweat and tears (I should probably write a story with this title), before I could even mutter a word, two pairs of eager hands grabbed at me, *no word spoken* I could see it in his eyes, the only mess I'm allowed to make right now is to crap myself, any other thing would result in a coma induced slap (it's a real thing, if you saw his hands).
I was pushed out, only then did I notice I had only my trouser on, no shirt! I begged the man to let me get my shirt (I'm a decent guy, I can't be running around without clothes now, can I?)... He gave me a look of 'oh, you get mind?' I kept quiet, entered the Hilux and got sandwiched by the other 2 men, before he started the car, the driver looked back
“na the thief be that?"
The others nodded, the driver just laughed as he turned the keys....
***
It must have been a few hours or days (I really haven't been in jail before so don't believe whatever is here) all I know is that I want to leave, it stank like stale shit and piss coupled with blood and sweat. I only had a discolored paint bucket to keep me company. The bucket would have seen it all, maybe it was imprisoned for letting paint finish in it's belly or being too expensive, it's a cold world, even a bucket feels it.
I soon dozed off by the bars, waiting for anyone to come find me, as I didn't get to make a phone call.
'clang clang clang' the bars shook, I woke up with a jerk and adjusted my eyes to the darkness.
'bobo, you get visitors o!' he said, holding the gate like you would when you want a sick or wounded animal to take it's time to come out of thier cage.
I followed him into the office of the DPO and the air conditioner reminded me of freedom, the bulb lights gave me hope, but the people I met there made me want to get back to my bucket friend, nobody looked nice, not even my mother, okay maybe Angela did a little.
'ekabo ma'(welcome ma) I said bending a little to prostrate in the crowded office (which you can imagine has the face of the president, Nigeria flag and those ridiculous ornaments left behind my probably the former DPO, lots of papers too) everybody, except for Angela, as if on cue let out a long and harsh 'mstcheeeeeeeeew' I stood up none the less. Put on my pity face and just stood there expecting to be asked to explain my self, but instead all I got was 'you will see yourself when we got home' (excuse his English).
I wasn't sure whether to be happy or sad, I wasn't tortured here...yet and at home I would never hear the last of this, even when I probably marry (African mothers can kill you mentally). All I know is I couldn't lose my virginity today but I am pretty sure I have lost my man hood (inserts chai). The DPO began to admonish me, sayiythe this and the that (even though I caught him staring at Angela from under his wire glasses, when I got in), I promised not to do it again and profusely apologized to everyone as he commanded. He told me to be grateful Angela was a kind girl (stares again) who told the truth and that the truth was what has set me free right now....
Free indeed, immediately the Angela's convoy departed, I got a sharp slap to the back of my neck... I stared at my dad...
“you cannot be more careful abi! Stupid boy!"...
I had somehow expected this, not the slap to the head though,
“you have eyes sha, that your babe fine, even oga dey look am" we both laughed, as soon as my mother came out of the station (she was collecting numbers, killing me and two other birds with one stone, typical!) , My father began to threaten again, he was so convincing, mother eyed me, entered the car and ordered dad to drive if I wasn't going to get in.
From the window of the car, I stared at the police station, like a student who enjoyed his excursion and would miss the place, I let out a sigh as we drove home. I didn't even get to say goodbye to the bucket.



The End.



I didn't want to add this but�
It's been two weeks since my Angela incident, do I regret it, yes! Do I feel sober, Yes! Will I do it again? Probably a yes too but definitely not at her place. I and Angela are still going strong, thanks for asking.


If you read this to the end. Thank you for your time. God bless. Criticisms are welcomed. I want to be a better writer so you don't have to read crap like this again�

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