I saw him! I saw him, and it all came back. Like a dam had burst and memories flooded. I stood there, unable to move, limbs numb like it’s been on ice too long. In a split second, I’d gone through it all. The fear, pain, and emptiness; I felt numb.
He passed by me and smiled, just a look to the side, effortless, confident like he was untouchable. Glancing over his shoulder, he dared to stare at my ass. Just another day at the park, just another woman amazed by his sheer beauty.
That’s when the anger hit, and all the strength came back. It was five years of unattended pain, swept under the rug, all coming back to me at once.
The next thing I remember is someone pulling me off, “Call the police”, they shouted, “she’s killing him”. I looked at my hand, and there was a rock, bloodied, dripping. My clothes were drenched.
What have I done? How did I get here? It was supposed to be a good day, a long walk in the park to bask in the summer sheen, nature and just unwind. How am I a murderer? Am I a murderer? Is he dead?!
Oh God, I’m going to jail. Will I go to jail? At this point, my head is spinning. A crime of passion? I’ve read about these things and seen them in the movies. There’s a name for this; I just can’t remember. I need to remember. The cops are here already, and I’ll need to say the right things.
Why am I thinking like this? Am I trying to justify what just happened? Should I? Adedamola, your parents didn’t raise you this way. What’s going… temporary insanity, that’s it! That’s what they call it—temporary insanity.
But does it apply if I’m thinking of it as an excuse? I know this isn’t who I am. Is it? I’ve fantasised about this for years. But that image was different. This isn’t how it played out.
“What’s going on? Where am I? Why are you holding me? Let me go, please.”