Previously on D-siders... Bonani had brought Thabo back to his books by his ear. Emma continued to post-institution life back in Breyton’s Bay. Emma lay in bed that night with her journal. She had made it a habit to write in it as often as possible. At the beginning, she had told herself she would write in it every night. That soon crumbled as soon as she moved back to Breyton’s Bay and got busy with life again. “Back to basics,” she told herself, flipping the pages, finding a new place to start. Keeping a journal of her life, with passages dedicated to her own emotional and spiritual well being had really helped her during the past six months. She didn’t know why. It just sort of lifted a lot of the pressure from her mind, she felt, seeing the words on the page. She felt like she could look directly at herself when she wrote. It’s a bit narcissistic, I guess, but it helps, so that’s that. So much had happened in the past couple of weeks. She wrote a new chapter heading, using highlighters and a thick marker for the capital letters: RETURN TO BREYTON’S BAY! Then she wrote the first sub-heading. MOOD: She knew exactly what to write. Cheerful, sort of. Not dwelling on things. Keeping mentally busy with short-term tasks. Change of scenery def helping. New energy of place means new energy of spirit. Enjoying meeting new people. Reminding myself how to laugh. Don’t analyse everything! It’s not your job! She smiled as she wrote. Next: WORK: Loving this part of my life. Inspired by my colleagues. Both real glamazons, amazing networkers. They specialise in women’s rights and gender violence, totally perfect. Ready to learn a lot and seeing the law from their perspective is bound to be interesting. Feeling super white lol but it’s a good thing. Have much to learn from them am sure. Plus they both make me laugh. :) Emma looked at the little smiley face she had drawn. It was true. She loved going to work. She loved hanging with Zinzi and Lerato, basically. She had landed a good thing, there. She was thankful. And yet. And yet…. She chewed her pencil lightly. She wrote the next sub-heading: LOVE. She was learning to love herself, and that was good. She had loved someone once. She had loved him so much it had hurt. And then…everything that happened…. Emma sat up straight. “What happened , happened,” she said out loud. She tapped the space under LOVE a few times with the tip of her pencil. She had lost the urge to write, suddenly. Eventually, she wrote a couple of question marks, sighed, and lay back onto the gentle softness of her bed. Later that night… Thabo checked the sms again before he prepared to leave. 10pm, the cross roads. I’ll tell you what we’re. SPOX He was jumping out his window, so as to leave the house secretly. If Bonani where to find out – Thabo didn’t even want to think what would happen. He pulled his hoodie over his head, tightened his belt, opened the window, put one leg over, and hopped out. It was only a short fall to the concrete outside. He managed this soundlessly. He’d had practice in the past. He skirted the outside of his own house, checking that Bonani’s room remained dark. If the light came on, it was tickets. He held his breath as be brought up his head outside Bonani’s window. Nothing stirred. A light breeze made Bonani’s curtains move a little bit. That was it. Bonani made his way along the darkened streets. He passed a spaza, a rubbish dump, and a block of flats As he was walking past a dark field, he heard some shouts and the sound of someone moaning. But it wasn’t a person moaning. It was something else. Curious, Bonani walked onto the fringes of the field and peered into the darkness. A neon security light was all there was to light the gloom. He heard more laughter, a whipping sound, then a yowl. He moved closer. Was someone being killed? After dashing a short distance, he saw what was happening. Some young kids were tormenting a dog. It looked like a German Shepherd, the kind of dog the police force uses. The poor animal was cowering. ‘Stop that!’ shouted Thabo before he knew what he was doing. Siphokhazi would have to wait. The kids didn’t stop hitting the dog with their sticks. Thabo moved within reach of the older one, who was about to throw a stone. Thabo gripped him by the upper arm. The kid yelled in pain. “Leave me alone! This dog bit my sister! She has to have stitches in her cheek!” “That’s no reason to abuse an animal!” Thabo said acidly. He then stood in front of the weakening animal and faced the group of three. “Go home, you little monsters. Think about what it feels like to be hurt and bullied like this,” he growled. “You can’t tell us what to do,” challenged one of the kids, a girl slightly taller than the others. Her hair was in tight cornrows, she was about ten. “If I catch any of you doing anything like this again, I’ll burn you alive in your house when you’re sleeping. You know what they call me?” “What?” asked one the children, his eyes widening in the moonlight. “The child cooker. I pick kids I don’t like, and I just burn them alive.” He could tell they were getting frightened. “Ag, that’s rubbish man,” said the girl, but the boys behind her looked unconvinced. They backed away, turned around, vanished. All that was left was the sticks, and a crushed coke can. Thabo kneeled and stroked the dog’s fur. The dog looked into his eyes and whimpered. “There, there, girl,” Thabo said in a soothing tone. “Everything is going to be ok, now.” The dog looked back with her golden eyes. Up next: Can Thabo put his ties to gangsterism behind him? Is Claire going to break up with Stephanie? What do you think Claire is going to do? Tell us!
Posted on: Tue, 26 Nov 2013 08:36:57 +0000
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