That’s the Price
Terry got home feeling tipsy. Alcohol from two shots of whisky he threw down his throat started to kick in hard. His head banged. Intense drowsiness. He had hoped the thoughts of his ugly act would disappear. He walked drowsily to the center of his dimly lit living room. Tossed his car key on top of the center glass table. He bent over and collapsed on the black leather couch across the room. Hoping to drift to sleep, his gaze fixed on the ceiling, his heart pounded from terrible thoughts. Knock! Knock! Sounds came from the door in quick succession. Terry’s eyes lit up for a second. His brain registered a chill up his spine. The door tapped again. This time, a lot harder. Terry muttered under his breath, “What the fuck!” He hopped to his feet and tiptoed to the door. He peered through the peephole and spotted Katie, his girlfriend, in a thick black hoodie. He snapped the door open. As he went to hug her, Katie pulled a .22-caliber revolver, pointing it at his head. Terry turned pale, taking a few steps back, yet Katie closed in. “You crazy bastard!” Katie blurted. “Hey! Hey! Katie, please put the gun down.” Terry’s lip trembled. “Fuck you!” Katie screamed. Tears of disappointment rolled down her cheeks. “I was loyal, Terry. I made sure you were supported. But what did I get? You turned around and screwed my sister. For God’s sake. She drowned herself!” Katie cried. “Are you happy now, you bastard?” She steadied her aim with her left hand. Terry blinked once, then, BANG! He opened his eyes to see—a hole in Katie’s head as she fell forward. He eased her to the floor, blood all over his hands. His infidelity cost the price of two lives. Okoli C. Stanley, author of That’s the Price—Harcourt, Nigeria
