BLOODY ROMANCE

Chapter 3

"Unexpressed emotions will never die. They are buried alive, and will come forth later, in uglier ways."
—SIGMUND FREUD
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              🖤_JAMES' POV_🖤
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When I opened the message I was so disappointed.
What Smith sent was just a full stop "."
After all those typing.

I didn't bother texting him again. I closed my laptop.
I tried to sleep but I can't.
The cold was freezing me. And the worst part is that the Air Conditioner was turned at the highest.

Just when I turned off the light and climbed the bed, my door opened.

Someone turned the light on and a boy walked in.
It was Mr Orwell son.
What's that his name sef.....

"Hey!" He said cordially.

"Hey" I said, getting up from the bed.

"Oh I'm sorry, you were sleeping. I'll leave just now" he apologized.

"I wasn't sleeping." I said "at least not yet. Is there anything important you want to say" I asked.

"Not really, I just thought you were bored to death, so I came for a little chit chat" he shrugged.

No wonder people in my country said, "Oyibo people talk with their nose."

This boy accent is something else. His English was fresh and very flawless.

"Oh that's what I really want. Chitchat" I smiled and he chuckled.

He sat in the chair opposite the bed where I sat.

"Your name?" He asked.

"James Jimi Akindele. You?"

"Mason." He said. "Sorry I and my sister were rude to you during supper" 

"Rude? You hardly even say anything to me" I retort

"Yeah .. that's rudeness. Isn't it?" 

I shrugged.

"You are from Ghana. Right?" 

"Nope, Nigeria"

"Ohhh... Really? You look like a Ghanaian to me.'

"You look like an American to me" I said.

"I'm not an American. I'm British"
"I didn't say you're an American, I just say you look like them"
"How does an American look like?" He asked.
"How does a Ghanaian look like?" I retorted.

Then he understood the point. He started laughing. 
I laughed too.
"You're really crazy, you know."
"I'll take that as a compliment!" I smiled.

"Well, there's a Ghanaian  in Cambridge. I'm sure you'll like to meet him."

I thought about it... My fellow Africa in the school.

Sounds great.
...............................................
It was 1am.
I was pressed and I have no idea where the toilet is?
The house is just so large.

I wandered around and opened any small door I see. 
Any door which I assume to be a toilet.

Finally I found a door.
It was inscribed "Convenience".

At last!

As I walked towards the door I was sure I heard sounds inside.

At first I thought it was someone whose faeces refuses to pass the anus.

Just like sometimes when Smith eats lot of carbohydrate. He'll spend his whole day in the toilet, moaning, groaning and crying.

I always stay outside the door and laughed him till he finished.