OPHELIA

Chapter 4: Too late

My heels clacked against the concrete pavement. The brush of overgrown rose branches against my feet drew me in to the aroma from the hotel’s eatery meters away. I imagined how the basting brush rubbed over the meat—it triggered my taste buds and I wondered if the pocket of the client was as juicy as the food I smelled. For a moment I felt I should forfeit my appointment; I didn’t feel up to task. But…“Let’s just get this over with.” I increased my steps.

“Ophelia Baby…” Jonny the matchmaker hollered from across the lobby—he was responsible for all of our arrangements in the hotel. He and Madam Veronica shared some absurd similarities like the annoying nature of voice and the ability to whine all day.

He hyped me but if only he knew how disgusting it looked in my eyes he wouldn’t spend a moment longer spilling words. Just so you know, my blood ran in his veins.
“I have a hot sharp customer now like this; the man is in a hurry for servicing.” He said
“I have been booked already and you know it.”
“See, I am the one that arranged this booking you are going for… the old man is still in a meeting. This one I’m telling you now is a hot guy… only fine…he is alive if you know what I mean. Think about it, it will be extra cash in your purse.”

In all his ecstatic explanation, the only thing that appealed to me was: the man might fall within my desired age range.
“Are you saying he is young?”
“Mid thirties.”
I smiled. It was my lucky day “Mid thirties you say?”
“See your smile. I can tell you agree.” His smile revealed a troll like nose with few nose hairs popping out. We walked on.
“I do.” I said. I mean… how could I not? The weather was perfect to leave my signature behind.

“You know, he personally picked out your picture. He likes young and fresh…. But babes, you never cease to amaze me; at this your age, you have all the men in your palms.” He said.
“Stop saying that it makes me feel like a witch”
“A hot witch!” He tapped my buttock but my reflex was alive. I pinned his neck to the wall leaning my knife to his skin.

“Sorry babe! It’s a joke, na joke.” I glared at him “Na joke now…sorry!”
I could tell he almost peed in his pants. I patted his shoulder. “Be careful, I’m in a bad mood.”
“Sorry…” He said sheepishly.

Soon we got to our destination. “I will take it from here.” I said.
I went in and made myself comfortable; I took off my extra clothing and was left with a tiny revealing vest that made my features pop. Water splattered in the bathroom; it appeared he was taking a bath. I scanned the room and my eyes fell on a glass of water that sat on the bedside cupboard. I smelled its rims—the smell of his saliva excited me. I drugged the water cautiously and returned to my seat assuming the best seductive posture.

“What are you doing? Put on your clothes.” His voice startled me and he shot me a pullover. “Wear this you look like a whore.”
I smirked. What did he ask for, an angel? Coming from him the word sounded offensive.
“I thought you wanted to have a good time.” I asked once he drank all the water in the glass. My plan was falling into place. He looked at me; I couldn’t tell what he was thinking—I was always able to read their expressions.
“I said you should put on your clothes.”
“Look, if you no longer want my services, I’ll leave. It’s not like we can do anything with our clothes on.”
“Put on your clothes.” He insisted but I stood up to leave.
“Sit down!” His firm tone compelled me. “I have no intention of doing whatever you are thinking.”
“Then why did you ask for me?” I pondered out loud “Are you a police officer?”
“No…”
I felt relieved. I thought for a second that I had reached the end of the road “Then who are you?”
“I’m a Pastor.”

It. Was. A. Shocker! A pastor?  I was so close to pouncing on him but it was only a matter of time before he passed out.
I wondered if the idiot was normal….was he trying to save my soul or what? I still wanted to kill him. I contemplated taking out my knife and stabbing him; he wasn’t up to a meter away from me. It was like a rhyme in my head kill! Kill! Kill! I decided to stab him. There was nothing I had to lose.

However, before I could, he held his head. “What did… What have you done?” He fell to the ground. I took out my syringe, pulled out my blood and injected it into his system. So much for my birthday!  I had been cooked out of my mind. “The old guy can go to hell with his money.”

I stormed out of the hotel. A familiar sharp pain in my abdomen made me slouch. My body was beginning to give way; I knew it, I felt it, I smelled it. Death was waving at me but I thought I didn’t care…I knew I didn’t care.  I took a taxi to the hostel; if I slept, when I woke up I would feel better.

My gut feeling spelled danger but I couldn’t tell what danger was around. I went into my room and froze. I saw HIM—The Prince of War. My feet plastered to the ground. He was my savior and my death. The smoke from his nostrils enveloped the air. I wanted to run out but it was too late.

“Ophelia.” He said walking toward me. My body quivered with every step he made. “Aren’t you happy to see me?” He hugged me. “Give me a kiss.” He grabbed my jaw and pressed a kiss on it. His aggressiveness aroused memories. “You know why I came right?” He pulled off my clothes.
“I can’t do this today I…” A slap pushed me to the bed. My ears made a wheezing sound.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He retorted. “I didn’t give you a second chance at life to tell me you won’t do. Last time you couldn’t do and I let it slide but not this time.” He pounced on me.

In that moment I had had enough! My reflex got the better of me and I drove my knife into his groin. He screamed at the top of his voice, the only word in my head was Run! Run! Ophelia Run! I flew towards the door tripping on my step. He fired a bullet at me and got my right shoulder. The girls who stood at the corridor ran helter-skelter. It was a perfect cover for me to escape. Once I was out of the hostel, I pulled a bed sheet hanging aimlessly on one of the windows, threw it over my shoulder and ran out of the gate.