Regina and Esther both analysed the paper and made some notes in their work diaries. They discussed other miscellaneous subjects. Esther made the summarising point. As all members of the committee started to leave, Remel had just come into the room. He was confused as to what was happening. Regina approached him and shook his hand. She offered him a genuine smile, but he had absolutely no clue as to who she was.
“You must be Mr Brathwaite,” stated Regina with confidence and a slight afro-francophone accent.
Remel was extremely on edge at this point. He had never seen this woman in his life. He glanced at King Keys out of the corner of his eye and wondered what exactly the masked man had said about him. Regina perused the expression on Remel’s face and realised it showcased perplexity. She apologised.
“It says your name on your book,” Regina pointed out.
Remel looked down at his notebook in his hand and laughed. He had been uncharacteristically paranoid. He apologised to Regina, but he was still puzzled as to why she already knew of him.
“I’m excited to hear your speech. I can’t wait to hear it,” Regina said.
Remel was completely at ease when he realised that Esther had something to do with the ‘Change Makers’ Charity’. He thanked her for her compliments and shook her hand again. Esther and Regina were the last to leave the room. Once they were alone, Keys started the conversation as opposed to the usual silence and cryptic replies.
“When are you going to finish writing your speech?” he asked.
Remel was going to ask how Keys even knew he had started writing it, but then he remembered that Keys was a telepath. At that moment, he also started to realise the connotations of being a telepath. Remel laughed mentally. Keys was definitely a phantasm and the fact that Remel continued to talk to him enforced a feeling of mental instability. Remel shrugged his shoulders as a reply to Keys’ questions.
“I’m not sure what to write. I feel lost with my words when I try,” elaborated Remel.
Keys chuckled. Remel’s body shivered. The only men Remel knew who wore masks and chuckled to themselves were the antagonists of comic books.
“A man named Femi Koleoso once told me that being lost is a state of mind like a man finding himself in the wilderness and deciding that the wilderness is his home,” Keys explained.
Remel was addled. He didn’t understand the relevance of the story at that moment so he paid no attention to it. Keys continued speaking.
“You are the one who decides whether you are lost for words or not. Whatever you are feeling at any moment can be conveyed through your speech. As people, we have the ability to harness the power of words. When you feel lost for words, you are confused so speak about your feeling of confusion in the context of what you are saying and relate it to your audience.”
Once Keys had finished speaking, Remel understood the meaning of the anecdote. Remel started to leave the ‘Poet’s Room’ without saying goodbye. Keys stopped Remel at the door and congratulated him for his actions on the eve of Halloween. Remel was addled again until he remembered what had happened with Coreen, Rasharn and Emmanuel. He smirked as he left the room, because he realised his actions where those of a superhero, and he vowed to carry on doing good works whenever he could.
Chapter 12
Remel is in his room finishing off his assignments whilst listening to music.
Remel was proud of his work. He had just written a nine-page essay concerning the principles of digital communications. He read over his work thoroughly whilst an old Kanye West album was playing in the background. Once he had finished his essay, he started thinking about his speech. He roamed the internet and searched his philosophy book for inspiration. He couldn’t find anything until inspiration came from where he didn’t expect. The song that was playing featured Nas. Kanye West’s first verse painted multiple images of feeling positive in negative situations and hoping for the best but it was Nas’ verse (recognised by some to be his best verse ever) which inspired Remel.
He started off his verse by rapping about being unsure what to rap about. He detailed all his options, for example: guns, religion, money or racial issues. In his opening lines, he essentially depicted the dilemma of every rapper: they can either fit into the stereotype of being a misogynistic and materialistic criminal or they can use their words as a means of activism and discussion of social issues. Remel imagined that Nas had a kind of writer’s block when he was writing the song. He almost felt as if he could empathise with the verse apart from the fact that Nas persisted to write in spite of his mental barrier, whereas Remel’s speech existed only as a blank piece of paper. He picked up his philosophy book and flicked through it. He landed on a page titled change. At the top of the page, there was a quote in bold lettering from Heraclitus. The quote said, ‘One cannot step into the same river twice’. Remel started to think about how he felt after the death of his father; how he felt after reading his GCSE results and realising he had failed himself and his parents (father included); his mother in general and multiple other things that came in and out of his life. He read some other quotes by Zeno, Aristotle and Plato before he started writing a storm.
Remel spotted a small piece of paper on the floor which hadn’t been there before. It read: ‘Everything you are doing now is useless’. It was obviously a message from King Keys. Remel wasn’t sure what the point of the note was, but it reminded him of the idea of nihilism. He scrunched it up and threw it in the bin.
Chapter 13
Remel is on his way to the university to hand in his assignment. The online submission service is down again. The date is the 2nd November.
It was a normal day. Remel had no reason to see King Keys, and there was no one after him. The weather was gradually becoming colder, but it was a problem that was easily solved by extra layers and a coat. Remel arrived at the university an hour before his deadline and handed in his assignment. Once he was on campus, Remel decided to go to the library. The library was filled with students finishing their assignments at the last minute. There were no empty tables so Remel had to join a girl who was sitting down at the closest table to him. She had headphones in and she was deeply engaged in her revision on visual arts. Remel left his belongings at his chair and went to find some revision materials from the bookshelves before making his way back to his seat. He had been in the library for an hour when his mum called him. She had asked him where he was and when he would be coming home. When he replied by saying ‘in 30 minutes’ and his mother snapped at him, Remel realised something had happened. He hung up the phone, gathered his belongings and left the library immediately. He ordered a taxi from the university and made his way home. A dark silence greeted him at the door. Remel walked straight into the living room and saw Adira sitting with two police officers. She had obviously been crying a river. Her eyes were red. She stared at Remel’s face, unsure of what to say. Remel’s heart burned. He hated seeing his mother so distraught and miserable. He couldn’t take it.
One of the police officers stood up and greeted Remel. He introduced himself as PC Morris.
“Last night a young man named Emmanuel Akinyemi was attacked and brutally killed in the streets. We suspect that a group of boys attempted to steal his car so he fought back. They stabbed Emmanuel and tried to frame his sister. He died almost instantly. We are not yet labelling you a suspect, Mr Brathwaite, but we have reason to believe that you know something about the crime. CCTV captured footage of you in a violent confrontation with Emmanuel and Coreen Akinyemi two nights ago. We understand that you may have been acting as a spontaneous peace maker rather than an accessory to the violence, but we would just like to have as much information as possible,” explained the officer.
The other officer who still sat in his seat analysed Remel pensively without blinking. Remel thought about the fight that had been about to happen between Emmanuel, Rasharn, Coreen and himself.
“Rasharn might’ve been the one to steal Emmanuel’s car, but I doubt he was the killer,” r
eplied Remel whilst still in deep thought.
The officer was about to ask how Remel came to his conclusion, but he remembered the footage he had seen. Remel had thrown Rasharn’s machete in the knife bin. The second officer still scrutinised Remel without blinking and took notes on his comments. The officers carried on their usual questioning (like: Where were you at the time of attack? How did you know Emmanuel? Etc.) before leaving. Both officers kindly left the Brathwaite household. Even as he left the house, the silent officer didn’t interrupt his cogitation. He was obviously putting a story together in his head like a mental jigsaw puzzle.
Once they left, Remel and his mother sat alone without speaking. They didn’t have the energy to. They both tried to be cold and emotionless, like robots, but it was impossible to ignore someone’s death. Adira had so many questions for her son. She had known of his involvement with gangs and dangerous children, but she just suspected him of being a troublemaker and part time vandalist. The police officers had come to burst her bubble. Despite the genuine smiles of the police officers and their promise that Remel Brathwaite wasn’t a suspect, they were lying. They came because they believed Remel had been affiliated with the crime. Adira Brathwaite’s only precious son was now a suspect in a murder inquiry. She broke down. Remel wanted to comfort her, but he knew that he was the source of her sadness. There were no more tears for her to cry.
“Who killed him?” asked Adira.
Remel couldn’t speak. He could only shake his head as a way to say he didn’t know the answer. Adira realised her son was telling the truth.
He instinctively stood up and walked outside the door, leaving his mother mid-conversation.
Chapter 14
Remel went to Rasharn White’s house. He has a theory about Emmanuel’s death.
Remel knocked on the door twice. He rang the doorbell and still he had no reply. A CCTV camera focussed on the White household from across the road. Remel knew that the police would’ve been watching his movements closely after Emmanuel’s death. He considered leaving until someone opened the door. It was a young man around the same age as Remel. The young man had a wild look in his eyes, and he looked violent even without acting so. Remel knew the young man as Hastings White, Rasharn’s fraternal twin.
“Rasharn’s ill at the moment. I’ll tell him you came around,” informed Hastings, agitatedly.
Remel wasn’t at the house for Rasharn or Hastings in particular. He just wanted information. He looked down at Hastings’ trousers and saw some red stains. Hastings saw what Remel was looking at and wiped it quickly. The stain was adamant on being visible.
“It’s alright. I just wanted to pass on a message. The police just came to my house and told me Emmanuel is dead,” elucidated Remel with a solemn expression.
Hastings was far from surprised. Since Remel came to the door, this was the first time Hastings had shown a hint of emotion. His face almost displayed an expression of content at the news of Emmanuel’s death.
“We know. The police just came around an hour ago. Thanks,” lied Hastings whilst hastily shutting the door.
Behind Hastings in the corridor a small figure appeared. It was his twin Rasharn. He looked as if he had just been beaten up (which was literally what had just happened). His eye was black, and his body was bruised all over. Rasharn was almost in tears, but it hurt him to cry. He had tried to call out to Remel to help him, but he barely had energy to speak. Hastings grabbed his brother by the hood of his jumper and threw him into the wine cellar. This was the consequence of Rasharn’s call to the police from his back up phone.
Remel had gotten nothing from his visit to the White household. It served him right: he was not a detective inspector so it was not his duty to find answers, but he was always instinctively inquisitive. One thing that disturbed him was Hastings’ wild aesthetic and his expression of content at Emmanuel’s death.
Upon arrival to his home, Remel was called into the living room by Adira. His mother was in a better mood than earlier on. She sat in the living room, reclining on her sofa, listening to a playlist composed of her favourite artists like: Zara McFarlane, Nubiya Garcia and Amy Winehouse. Adira had a great taste in music. She told Remel that she had free time, and she was ready to work on his speech. He read her what he had written. His speech was now almost perfect. His mother loved the way he harnessed the power of his words. After her input, the speech had no problems. She was a perfectionist. Adira asked Remel when his event was. He knew it was in November, but he told her he would ask King Keys for the precise date.
“Who’s King Keys?” she inquired.
“He’s just a man who works with the charity. He has a room at the university,” replied Remel, trying his best to omit the fact that Keys was a telepath who could fly and move things with his mind.
“The name sounds a bit like a facetious locksmith, if you ask me,” Adira joked.
Remel laughed. He had never realised the comical aspect of the name King Keys. His laughter was interrupted by a phone call by a ‘+44’ number. The person on the other end of the phone was silent.
Chapter 15
Coreen Akinyemi, the girl who kissed Remel at Jordan Jones’ party, is mourning the death of her brother, Emmanuel. She believes herself to be at her mother’s holiday home in Gosport.
Coreen Akinyemi slept in her bed accompanied by a half-empty bottle of Hennessey and a sharpened kitchen knife. Apart from the two inanimate companions, Coreen was alone in the house. She was spending a few days in her mothers’ holiday home in Gosport. She hadn’t suspected anything until she learnt of her brother’s death. A mobile phone screamed out to Coreen from the corner of the room for her attention but the depressing emotions that had taken over her couldn’t allow her to feel a need to answer.
Coreen was aware of the fact that the police were coming to knock down her door and arrest her at any moment. She believed herself to be responsible for her brother’s death. Over the previous days, she speculated what to do. She grew into a nocturnal creature developing suicidal thoughts when she should’ve been sleeping. When she did sleep, she swam in a pool of her own tears.
Coreen was afraid of herself. Throughout all of her life, she was successful at hiding her mental health issues, but recently, her mind had started to battle itself viciously. At night times, she had always heard a voice that was by no doubt her own, but the voice whispered into her ear and asked her to do vile things. She always ignored the voice. She believed that she was incapable of fulfilling such horrific and detestable requests until she woke up one afternoon in a car park next to her dead brother with a knife in her hand. It was such a repulsive memory in the mind of such a peaceful person.
It was 7am in the morning when Coreen and Emmanuel got into an argument. It was not any different from a normal family feud apart from the voice in Coreen’s head urging her to slit her brother’s throat. It was heated whilst it lasted, but they were bound to reconcile. Coreen left the house at 7:10 to start her shift at a fast food restaurant. Emmanuel was supposed to pick her up at 17:30, but he was absent, and Coreen presumed he had waited in the car park. Once she approached the car park, she heard shouting composed of cries of distress and anger. It sounded like a fight between grown men. She turned a corner and witnessed Rasharn White head-butting her brother before he dropped to the floor. Hastings White watched from the side with a glove on his right hand and a machete, identical to Rasharn’s disposed one. She screamed and ran into the eye of their conflict. Coreen was strong. Men didn’t expect it from women. She attacked Rasharn White with a storm of punches and scratches with her acrylic nails. The kick Coreen delivered to Rasharn’s groin denied him the opportunity to fight back.
The familial grudge had disappeared. Emmanuel could barely see his sister through the translucent layer of blood covering his eyes. Coreen fell to her knees next to him and rushed to his first aid. Hastings stepped in and booted Coreen’s head onto the floor before she could play the role of medic. She passed out automatically. H
astings sunk his knife into Emmanuel’s abdomen, dragged Coreen’s body next to her brother’s and put the knife in her hand. Hastings woke his brother, and they both vanished.
It was a haunting memory of Coreen’s. As far as she knew, she had lost the mental dominance to fight the voice and succumbed to her evil temptation. The whole world would’ve turned against her when they learnt of her sin. As soon as she exiled herself to her mother’s holiday home, she turned down each blind and closed all the curtains so that she could hide from the rest of the world, but she knew that the time of reckoning was near.
*knock* *knock* *knock*
The grim reaper had come to collect his payment. Coreen shivered. She had been awaiting his entrance since she had come, but the cold reality that she could be imprisoned for life was spine-chilling. It was her truth even though it was false. It was an inevitable future unfolding only in her mind. She went down the stairs and opened the door. Before she looked at the police officer with the scar on his face, daylight invaded her place of refuge. As far as Coreen knew, it was around midnight. The sunlight hit her with the feeling of being misplaced. She continued to look past the police officer and was surprised to see people of all colours and cultures. Gosport was a predominantly white area, and she hadn’t seen any coloured people there before. She had only been in Gosport for two weeks, and it had already changed unrecognisably. A large double-decker bus passed by. The more she analysed her surroundings, the more she realised she was never in Gosport. The area was in fact in London.
How she had gotten from Gosport to London without leaving the house was impossible to fathom. Nostalgia hit her. It had only been two weeks, but she missed London already. She had expected to never be able to see the cohesion and unity of all the world’s cultures as she did in her area again. She had cut herself off from the rest of the world (or so she thought), but her sudden teleportation tested her sanity. Before the scarred police officer could greet her, Coreen collapsed and she lay on the floor for a few moments unable to comprehend why God had cursed her with the blessing of coming to her own home.
The Escape Page 6