What did i see?

WHAT DID I SEE?

By Mordecai J Banda

I had no idea how gruelling College of Medicine was going to be. I knew it would, but not this bad. I sweated and panted so much over my books I swear I must’ve been losing enough sweat to fill my bathtub, and I still am. Though in true sense, I have no bathtub. However, the independence is fun. No more people to answer to and a free world of books to explore. College is tough but tranquillity… for a top scorer as me and my friends, life was sweet. But this would change… on a certain afternoon where I got confronted with the most unimaginable news ever.
“Tobias, you won’t believe this!” That was Blessings, his sweating; a common trait amongst the College of Medicine students, but this is different. His face is etched with something. It’s all out fear. Its real fear on his face. What he said next was what changed everything,
“Lawrence is dead! His dead!” Those are the only straight words I heard before he lapsed into chitumbuka and Chichewa, all gibberish, though I could understand slightly, but no, why I couldn’t listen is because my stomach tightened at the news. Because I had just heard that one of my best friends was dead. It was too much, at the moment it occurred to me that Blessings, the one bearing the news, could be joking,
“You bastard… be careful of what you joke about.” I said with a vainly brave smile. But when I said that Blessings looked like I had slapped him. Through his red eyes he swore and with a powerful grip dragged me through the corridors outside, at the middle of the ground was a patch of people. I was scared, so scared to continue, but I didn’t need to go over, because some school mates were carrying the body beneath the shelter of the college. Lawrence, eyes glazed and staring with his neck bleeding through puncture wound…
“Oh my God… who would…? Oh my God”
The screaming of the girls started, and I was weak, staring at the body and shaking with grief, Blessings hovering around it like a grieving mother. What bothered the whole community was not only that Lawrence had died only a 19 year old… but that the evidence all pointed to one type of death. Murder was its name.

Sometimes, you can never get over things like the murder of your best friend. Most of the others did. They needn’t care. Of course, they didn’t hate Lawrence. But they could hardly force themselves to like the boy more because he was dead. So they were honest, I didn’t blame them, but to let it go was something I was not doing. Not then, not ever. I knew the light and cruel jokes would rise of the reasons of his death, but if I would ever find them saying it. They would have to contend with two flying fists. Two weeks later I am doing some of my own working on the case, I tell you, I was determined.
“I-say… let me tell you.” Blessings again.
“I don’t want to hear it.”
“Your not a policeman… your not a detective, this isn’t America!”
“I will find out, Blessings, and if you’ll let your friend die without the guy getting caught, that’s not my decision.”
Blessings stopped me, and looked me in the eye. We momentarily stemmed the flow of bustling students.
“Lawrence was my friend too. But there’s nothing you can do. Maybe it was an outsider, you can’t know.”
I looked at him, and then brought him into a more discreet area; I showed him the files I was carrying were actually not school books.
“What are these? You’ve gone mad eh?”
“Look at them… fine… I’ll read them to you.”
Blessings was fully convinced that I’ve lost my mind with grief. He was right. He left me reciting my findings to no one. It left me wondering about my sanity for real. I tossed the files away.

I finally forgot. And I was hanging around at the bar that very night. Me and my smart friends; like some gang. Blessings, John, Thomas. They were effectively numbing my mind from Lawrence’s violent death, and they kept on pointing out this girl everyone fancied, Patricia.
Suddenly, the bartender brings us all some drinks. When I wonder he says,
“That lady” He says, points vaguely in Patricia’s direction. We all whoop with joy. Then we gather our heads together, Blessings says,
“Okay, scissors paper rock and the one who wins goes over to her.”
We do it, a bit strange for a four-way, but I was singled out. So I went over to her but just as I reached, a horrible gagging sound is heard from where I had sat recently. I turn around to see Blessings topple off his stool. Coughing a great spout of blood, landing on the floor… The beer glass shattered and even as the whole room grew silent then burst out in screams, the life from Blessing’s eyes left him. I sat down, and I don’t remember when I got up.

The police smacked me across the face again, “You think you can make us come all the way here just for you to show us some papers?”
I was silent, because I had done just that. Convinced that I had something to help the police catch the thief. At the time I was drunk, so it only made the policemen angrier. Partly I think they’ve had no progress on their investigation. So they were taking it out on me. When the two policemen left me on the floor to lick my wounds. I decided to head to the roof of the college, I don’t remember if it was suicide, I don’t remember, but I do remember Patricia.
She was cowering, on the steps just as I reached the roof. I only saw her shadow and it was franticly struggling against something. When I reached the top. I heard a blood curdling scream and that was that. The third death had occurred. And this one right in front of my eyes. Patricia didn’t die with a peaceful face or at a reasonable angle. Her head had been cracked open from the fall and her body had broken in two.
The week from there wasn’t much to talk about. Because I was thrown in jail immediately after I had related my story. They thought I had killed both Blessings and Patricia, and were exploring the possibility of Lawrence’s death also. Soon eye-witnesses from nowhere popped up, I heard the entire story through the lips of a sneering policeman. He was cruel and demeaning, but he was my only source from behind those bars, next to the putrid pail of faeces. I actually handled the situation quite well. And none of the prisoners were interested in attacking me. Mostly because their sentences were about to come to an end and they didn’t want to risk it. The policeman also related to me that they thought the motive for murder was School. Absurd accusation. I was one of the smartest, why would I kill my lifelong friends over the impending examinations?
When I was released I realised how convincing the accusations seemed. If I wasn’t myself I would’ve also suspected myself. When I arrived my image was tarnished beyond saving. The few friends of mine I had left me alone, and everyday I walked through the corridors in a dreamy stupor. The police had been thorough during my absence, they had completely thrashed my room and even my radio was missing. I didn’t care. They had searched my room because apparently Lawrence, Blessings and Patricia had been reported to have had their school books and personal documents containing their work and ideas had gone missing.
There was no trace of them in their own rooms.

I sat at my bed and looked dejectedly at my overturned cabinet. I set it upright against the wall but stopped when I saw a precise, square outline in the wall. I set the cabinet on the floor again and studied the square. I prised it open and went faint as Lawrence’s black folder toppled out. Revealing Blessing’s college exercise book and something beyond.
What did this mean?
I did not know. Because a girl had stopped by. She immediately recognized the folder,
“Isn’t that-?” And when she saw who it was, she started screaming.
“No, Stop...  stop!” I was desperate. I ran after her. When she saw that I was following, she started screaming again.
“Wait!” Then I looked in my hands, the folder was still there. People were all across the hallway, some obviously recognized it. The girl luckily did not scream out why she was running. Some people stepped in my way but I barged past them. The lights on the corridor were haunting, the girl still screamed, she was crying now. And I had a deep pain in my heart. I was sweating with fear. All the time, I tried to reason how I had Lawrence, Blessings and probably Patricia’s items.
The girl turned into the bathroom, I followed, I went up to her, then my eyes widened and I knew no more.

When I woke, people were grabbing me. Accusing me. I gained full consciousness and I was set to my feet.
“You killed her!” A bereaved woman screamed. There was all chaos around me. I was groggy,
“What?”
I received so many slaps I almost fainted. Blows landed on me as I was dragged to the grounds. Police were running up to me ahead. When I looked to my right, through the throng of the bodies bashing me to pulp, I saw the girl I had been chasing: on the floor, covered halfway with a blanket. She was dead.
I shook my head, denying it, and then I remembered what I saw before I blacked out.
“It wasn’t me!”
Another blow, I spat out a tooth. Then as the policemen arrived with handcuffs, I twisted from the hands that were grabbing me. I tore free of the mob, which angrily gave chase. Rocks flew and I ducked. I reached the corridor, the mob and police not far behind, I opened the door. And I was grabbed by the policeman.
“I saw the killer! The window inside there! I’m telling the truth!”
The policeman was curious. He left me at the door and went in. Then he came out and gave me a mocking smile.
“There’s no window in there.”
“What?” The mob grabs me; I tore free again and jumped into the bathroom. I turned my head. Even then my legs are being pulled. When I look, the fight goes out of me.
There was no window indeed. There’s a mirror.