She Dies - Season 1 - Episode 24

5 years ago

She Dies - Season 1 - Episode 24

“Fool” she interrupted, “You’ll remember today for the rest of your life.” She stood, “You had
the guts to go contrary to my instruction?”
She started moving to the table. She got to it
and pulled out the drawer. She put a hand in
it, quickly took out something, hid it behind
her back and started back to Reagan. Reagan
knew she was holding something dangerous
but couldn’t tell what. He thought of running
but Jane would be too fast for him, she was
built like an athlete. He considered fighting
her and taking the weapon from her but knew
he was too small for her. Finally, he resigned
himself to whatever fate Jane now controlled.

Jane got to him and forced him to his feet
with a hand, her other hand still kept behind
her. She backed to a seat dragging Reagan
with her.

“Get on your knees.” She said cruelly. The
sound of her voice sent him spinning away but
her hand was timely, she pulled him forward,
“Where do you think you are going?”
“No where.” He cried.
“Good.”

Reagan’s skin now felt like a corpse; he knelt
on the floor, trying to predict her next action.
Jane rapped, “Close your eyes.”
Reagan stared.

“Now!” She thundered.
Reagan obeyed immediately. In the next
minute, he felt a shattering pain on his finger
and he quickly opened his eyes wide and saw
a pair of pliers held tightly to his ring finger.
Blood was gushing out and his gorge rose.
Jane fought madly to keep the struggling and
wailing Reagan still as she twisted the pliers
left and right and finally chopped off a finger
from his left hand. In another twenty-five
minutes, she had already driven the bleeding
Reagan to a clinic. She told the doctor that
her child had had an accident while playing
with a knife. As Jane told her lies to the
doctor, Reagan stared painfully and helplessly
and wished God struck her dead for telling
such a wicked lie. The following week, Reagan
was discharged, leaving him with four fingers
on his left hand. Two days later, he suffered
from kwashiorkor and the next day, he ran
away.

Seven years later, he was back for Jane. The
weather was dreich and it was drizzling when
he reached the gate. He wore a back polo
shirt on black trouser. He gave several knocks
before the gatekeeper came out from the
gatehouse to open the gate. He looked
through a small opening on the gate and
immediately recognized Reagan. He quickly
dug into his pocket and took out his phone.
He dialed a number and placed the phone
against his ear but Reagan pushed the muzzle
through the hole and shot him. “Sh*t.” Reagan said; he would have made him open the gate before killing him. The gate was massive and strongly built and Reagan knew his gun was useless for that kind of gate; moreover, he wanted to take Jane unawares. He moved over to the high fence and started climbing. He was a cat for walls, his height was not an impediment. In five minutes, he was inside the compound.

He ran up the stairs and stopped
at the door; it was locked. He rang the bell
and waited. In some minutes, Jane opened the
door and instantly quaked with fear. She was
wearing a beige wool shirt that was softly full
and a silk blouse. Her golden bangle was on
her right wrist. He stared at Reagan as if she
hadn’t known him. He had grown too mature
for his age. Reagan smiled and took out a
gun. He pointed it at her, “Surprised to see
me?” He scratched his cheek with the gun, “Go take a seat.” He said smilingly.

Her mouth felt dry and turned agape as she
stood for some seconds, and she started
moving backwards. Reagan followed her
closely, his finger on the trigger. When they
were past the door, Reagan kicked it close.

Jane reached the couch and became bilious.

That was the first she was seeing a gun, and
now it was being pointed at her, she felt sick.
“Sit mum.” Reagan was smiling, but it was an order.

Jane sat, looking pale.

Reagan sat on a seat adjacent her, “Longest
time mum, how’ve you been?” His smile was replaced by sudden indifference.

Jane found her lips smiling but a pulsating
headache had overtaken her.

Reagan smiled again, “Have you suddenly
become dumb?” He gave a hysterical giggle,

“All these seven years, I missed you. I’ve
always had sleepless nights, thinking of you
and how to make this reunion remarkable. I’m happy this day has finally come. Are you not happy?” He kept the gun on his laps and took out a pack.

Jane kept mute, her headache becoming
severe.

Reagan flicked out a cigarette and lit it, “When I ask you a question, you answer me. Is that clear?”

Jane felt the seriousness of his voice and
nodded, her body fidgety.

He pulled on the stick and smoke came out
slowly from his nostrils. He was glad it was
already raining. He enjoyed the thunder
crashing outside and was happy the rain
would aid in what he had come for. He was
still looking at Jane and he pressed his lips
tight on the cigarette in his mouth to stifle a
laugh at how tensed up Jane had become. He
never knew she could be such troubled at the
mere sight of her son she hadn’t seen for
seven years, “I ask again,” he said smugly,
“are you not happy for this wonderful reunion of mother and son?”

Jane shook her head weakly, “I’m happy.”

“That’s good.” He took a longer draw on his cigarette and said, “Is there any drink in this house? I feel thirsty.”

Jane nodded, “In the fridge.”

He stood, “Make no move” he released smoke,

“or I’ll make this reunion more interesting
than I intended.” He walked to the fridge in the dining room and took a bottle of Heineken. He moved to the rack and picked a glass, then
came back to the sitting room, “Do you also
feel thirsty?” He poured some quantity of the
drink into the glass.

Jane shook her head, “Thank you, I’m ok.”

He took a gulp, “Did you miss your lovely son
as much as he missed you?” He dragged on
his cigarette and watched smoke come out of
his nostrils.

Jane was silent.

He smiled, “I ask a question and you answer. I won’t mention it again.” His voice was sinister. He took another gulp, “Did you miss
your lovely son all this while?”

Jane answered immediately, “I did.”
Reagan laughed, “I see.” He dropped the dog- end on the floor and lit another stick. He
raised his left hand, “Do you still remember
the accident?” He splayed his fingers.

Jane looked at the hand and quickly looked
down, afraid to look at the four fingers.

“Look up and answer me.” He thundered and listened to the noise of the heavy rain outside.

Jane obeyed immediately and looked up, “I do remember. I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”

Tears ran down her cheeks.

Reagan’s eyes were on her, “What was your motive when you took me from the foster
home?” He refilled his glass.

Jane wiped her tears and said, “I wanted a
child. After Ben left me, I felt lonely and
decided to foster. Please forgive me.” She
pleaded.

“And you did all those evil to the child you
fostered?” Reagan’s voice was low but clear.

Jane wiped another tear off with a restless
finger, “Please forgive me. I didn’t know what came over me.”