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DREADED LOCKS

DREADED LOCKS




Cheryl stepped on the gas and whisked us off Calorian Avenue in a flash, before we got caught up with the traffic that was building  right on Elgin Street. One minute less, and we would be neck deep in a traffic jam that could go on for hours.

Trombone watched her closely as she breathed hard and fast, her nose flaring furiously and jaws clenched tightly. Her fingers turning white as she gripped the steering firmly.

Trombone knew that look. It was one she or anyone who knew Cheryl well, would not wanna mess with. With this mood, Cheryl was a beast. This is not your comic book beast, but a real life beast who can destroy anything in her path in the twinkle of an eye.

Imagine a quiet chocolate skinned nerd with dreadlocks, who works on her computer all day, drinking only black coffee;  who stays up all night watching The Walking Dead and How To Get Away With Murder... There you have it, that's who Cheryl is.

"Why did you do it?" Trombone asked.

"I had to. " Curt short response... Typical Cheryl.

"I don't understand you sometime. What with you visiting the shrink and all. I thought you said you have forgiven him?" Trombone   rapped on,  her hands flying in the air frantically.

"I sure have,"  Trombone was getting more upset with these three word answers. On other days, she was cool  with Cheryl typical short responses, but today the bitch just made her an accomplice to murder.

"Why. The. Fuck. Did. You. Murder. Him. Then.? Why?  You said you were over the abuse and rape. So what happened there just now? "

"My Hair" Came the annoying reply again.

"What does you hair have to do with you killing your ex boss tonight? "

Trombone caught the wistful look in Cheryl's eyes with her lips trembling. If she didn't know her damn too well,  Trombone would have thought Cheryl was about to cry.

Cheryl doesn't cry. Not even when her whole family were wiped out in a thunderstorm. She didn't shed a tear.

Cheryl sighed.

"I forgave every horrible thing that beast did to me. But I never forgave him for pulling my hair. No one touches my hair except me. "

That was perhaps the longest sentence she has heard Cheryl strung together in the whole of her life.

Trombone's mouth formed an involuntary O as she gazed at her best friend in disbelief.

She knew her bestie was freaking obsessed with her locks. Cheryl had beaten Jason to stupor in Fourth Grade for touching her hair.

For heaven's sake, dude was Cheryl's lover, but that didn't stop Cheryl from leaving the poor boy in bandages and stitches.

"But what was that enough to take someone's  life? " Trombone regretted her words as soon as they rushed out of her mouth.

Cheryl slammed her foot on the break, bring the car to an abrupt halt in the middle of the road.

"Are.  You. Kidding. Me? " She thundered,  breathing down Trombone's face, her dreaded locks glistening and shining in the moonlight.

Trombone lowered her head, her lips trembling in fear.

"You'd better not have an answer." Cheryl adjusted herself, arranging her locks in place, before driving off into the night.

©Ogbeni Aderonke Adeyeye

Image culled from Pinterest

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