CAGED Chapter 3 - CAGED

C3 CAGED

I checked my watch. It was 3:59 pm. I hurriedly packed my books into my bag pack, waiting anxiously for the bell to ring.

Five!

Four!

Three!

Two!

One!

Zero!

The jingling of the bell resounded loudly in my ear. I sprang up to my feet immediately and dashed out of my class. I could hear my classmates laughing out loud as I ran out of the class - something I expected. The school which should be a form of comfort and relief to me was a plus to my problem. My classmates hated me deeply.

"She runs like Usain Bolt." I heard a girl say.

I sighed heavily as I ran to the already opened door of the car directly in front of my school gate. My classmates didn't understand why I ran and I wasn't ready to explain myself to them. To the girls, I was proud and to the boys, I was playing hard to get. For this reason, they screamed in unison 'Absent ma!' each time the class teacher called my name to mark the class register. It was for this same reason, the stupid countdown was birth. a certain girl noticed how I ran out of the class immediately the bell rang and so she started a counting sequence she named: The Countdown.

She'd count in descending order from five to zero. Unfortunately, I ran out of the class each time she got to zero; zero was the time the bell rang. Other classmates of mine found this fascinating so they joined in the count down. It was fun and amusing to them. My running off provoked laughter so they looked forward to that moment where they could laugh their head off.

There was a time their laughter bothered me but I had taught myself to shut their laughter out of my mind since I couldn't do anything to stop them from making fun of me. The most I could do was harden my heart to avoid more hurt and pain. It seemed that was the only thing the world had to offer.

I would never stop running; I couldn't even stop. It was not for me to decide when to stop and when not to. It wasn't a question of what I wanted. My opinion didn't count so my classmate's mockery was not enough reason to make me stop — It was the least of my problem. The day I stop is the day I die. I had no time to exchange words with them or fight with them about issues of their insult. Time wasn't on my side to do that. Time wasn't on my side to do anything.

My life was calculated. It was timed. I had just a minute to get to my driver who was always at the gate before the jingling of the closing bell. The car engine was left running often by my driver to limit the amount of time I would waste opening a car door could take a minute; we couldn't afford to take such chances, therefore, the car door was opened widely so I would jump right in. Like I said: My life was calculated. It was timed. I had no say of my own. Grandma dictated my every step and every move. Like a god, she ruled over me.

I wish I could be free; that I could lead a normal life like everyone else. However, the truth was glaring in my face: I was stuck with my grandma. Despite knowing this, I couldn't help but nurse a tiny ounce of hope that one day I would leave grandma

★ ★ ★

Days went by and I didn't hear anything from Peter. Though he smiled at me each time our eyes met, he never attempted to talk to me again. I discovered that I was getting worried over nothing since nothing happened for the past days. I was extremely glad and relieved.

It was impossible to go a week without getting into trouble with grandma. It was either she complained about me staying too long with the church Sunday school teacher or about me maintaining a conversation with the traders who sold pieces of stuff next to my house. Today was not exempted.

The closing bell rang and I dashed out of my class as usual. To my horror, the gate was locked. I began to panic. My driver had already opened the car door waiting for me to jump in as usual. I turned around in search of the gateman to no avail.

"Aunty, you are here." The fruit vendor asked me.

I was well known by the gateman and vendors that sold next to the gate. This was because I was always the first to leave school. I wondered where the gateman went; the gate was always opened by 4 pm at the dot.

"Good afternoon ma. Please, where is the gateman?" I asked the fruit vendor.

"I don't know o. It looks like he went to ease himself." The vendor replied as she turned her gaze in search of the gateman.

My driver was already out of the car; looking at me with a worried look.

"What are you doing? It's 4:03 pm."

"The gate is locked. I don't know where the gateman is." My voice was shaky.

"Where is he, na? " My driver's forehead furrowed.

"I'm in soup. I'm done for. " I wailed.

"He is already coming." The fruit vendor announced and I turned sharply to the direction of the gate man. He was trying to zip his trousers as he walked to us. I rushed to him.

"Sir, please open the gate. I need to go now. Open up please." I pleaded.

I really didn't know if it was the urgency in my voice or the tensed look on my face, but the gateman nodded his head quickly and rushed to the gate. I ran out immediately he opened up and my driver quickly rushed into the car. We drove out at high speed. I stared at my watch: 4:07 pm.

I began to sob quietly. There was no way I could escape this. I knew I was already in trouble.

"Don't cry. It will be fine." I heard my driver say.

"It will not be fine. It has never been fine. Grandma will not believe me. She would think I intentionally stayed back to talk with friends. But what friends do I have? How on earth does she even expect me to have friends? I'm in soup. I'm in trouble." I cried harder.

"I wish I could help out." My driver sighed as he rubbed his hand on his face.

"She won't believe you either instead you'd lose your job. I won't forgive myself if you lose your job because of me. Many others have lost theirs because of me. I can't take it anymore."

I really couldn't. I was tired of people losing their jobs because of me. I closed my eyes as I thought of the pain I'd go through when grandma returns. Grandma was a well-known caterer so she was away often; catering for one event or the other. She never took me to these events even on weekends. Her reason being the usual you will get influenced negatively.

Grandma being away made no difference for she took account of everything that happened. The housekeeper told her everything including the time I returned from school. As I said, everyone carried out their duties according to grandma's order for fear of being sacked.

"Promise me you will not try to defend me." I stared at the rearview mirror.

"Please!" I pleaded with him and he nodded. I heaved a sigh of relief and closed my eyes.

Everyone kept looking at me with widened eyes as I came out of the car and walked into the house. They all knew what would happen to me. Ma Suzanne took my hands and asked me why I was late. I narrated all that had happened to her and she shook her head pitifully.

"Forgive me, child." She held my hands.

"I understand, Ma Suzanne. It's not your fault. Please promise me you won't lie to cover up for me. Say everything as it happened."

She brought my hand to her lip and kissed it. Then she asked me to have my bath so I could eat my lunch.

Ma Suzanne was the housekeeper. She was an elderly woman with two kids. She was the motherly figure I didn't have. I wished I could spend more time with her but as usual, she'd influence me negatively according to grandma.

Ma Suzanne was a great cook but as I ate, I couldn't taste the food. My thought was crowded with the beating I would receive. I felt nausea and I couldn't finish my food up.

I laid on my bed after eating as I waited for grandma to return. I wanted to get rid of the fear I was feeling