I don’t know how I managed to tame the demons of violence trying, fighting, to break free at the sight of the man behind all my hurting and stressing. We shared a moment of silence, with eyes interlocked in each other’s, both of us clearly waiting for the other to start the fight. As for our host, he was just looking on, perhaps trying to figure out which type of greeting we were having. He finally excused himself, leaving with every extra minute we could have killed doing a lot of nothing.
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“What are you doing here?” Ronnie broke the silence, a bead of sweat dripping from his temple. I wish he knew how the question stirred up my anger. I mean, where on earth did he get the audacity to ask such a question?—or even asking a question, for that matter. I was supposed to do all the questioning, blaming, scolding, and everything inbetween. I was the victim. I only learnt later that at that time he had no idea I knew about all that he had done.
Ignoring his question, I gave myself a seat on a wooden stool that stood right infront of me. He remained standing, keeping his eyes on me. I think he was thinking of escaping at that time but that couldn’t be possible because I was blocking the doorway. That meant he had to go through me to achieve any success of running out of the room. “Stone died,” I said calmly and studied his reaction. He was not moved at all, and didn’t give me any reply. Clearing my throat, I continued, “And Gerald was sentenced to life imprisonment.”
“Is that why you are here?” he shoved me another question. I clenched my fists. I broke the eye contact to try to tame my wild thoughts, and moved my eyes about, but, despite the stuffiness of the room, still all I could see was him. The reflection on both the glass table and cemented floor were his, and I could see him folding his arms and moving his eyes about as if he was on remote control.
“That’s not the reason as to why I’m here, you fool!” I spat, keeping my eyes off him, and continued, “I’m here because of what you did to Rachael!” He smirked. I stood up immediately, as he consequently unfolded his hands and clenched his fists as well.
“Which Rachael?” he asked, acting perhaps, or just trying to get on my nerves. “And what did I do? I sighed as my fists went at ease.
