just in case

He’s never had it this easy. He may as well be stamping cockroaches to death. That is the ease he has brought to killing. He seems more and more indestructible. Most of the time I visit my island with the crystal clear sea and the palm trees that sway to an ever present breeze. Most times.

He is starting to notice me again. He looks at me. I cannot read his expression. I know everything that he can do but I do not know what he will do.

He came into my room two days ago. A knife in his hand. A smile on his face. My island deserted me and I faced him with fear churning my insides. He looked at me for what seemed a long time. I could not look back at him. He smiled. “just in case, writer man, just in case.” He came up to me. Easy and noiseless and quick. He grabbed my arm. He hit me. I fell. I woke up tied to a chair. My hands tied down on the table in front of me. Pathi stood. Still smiling. Still holding the knife in his hand. “Just in case what ?” I asked him. Still reasonable. “Just in case you were planning to kill me.” The knife came down on my right hand. The four fingers were severed in one movement. I could admire the neat cut I could see the blood I screamed. I screamed. Shock. I fainted for the second time in the day. The last thing I saw was Pathi. Admiring his handiwork. Smiling at me.

I woke up and looked down at my hands. No more fingers. Neatly wrapped in white bandage. My hands. No more fingers. I always wondered what shooting bolts of pain would feel like. I know now. I asked him, “why don’t you kill me ? Kill me now.” “What’s the fun in that writer man ? It may be a difficult thing to eat but I’m sure you’ll figure something out.” “My hands you fucking cunt. You took my fingers. Fuck you!” He laughed at that. He seems to be happy. He walked out of the room. Still laughing.