No hiding place

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Ade’s eyes darted from one end of the room to the other; his heart pounded heavily like the drum set of the Nigeria Police band. Although in the safety of his one room apartment, yet a string of fright hung in the heart of the lanky young man, like the hangman’s noose.
The force of fatigue pulled him into his narrow bed and with slumber several miles away from him; he kept turning from one side of the bed to the other.
A siren blared into the stillness of the night.
‘Police?’ he muttered, peering through a tear on the blind.
As the sound drew nearer, raw fear enveloped him like a piece of parcel ready for despatch. But to his greatest relief, he realized that it was just the fire-fighters.
‘Brace up man!’ he dragged himself to his feet. ‘It’s time to strategize.’
He sauntered towards the restroom where his weary eyes strayed towards the large sized shaving mirror on the wall. To his utter bewilderment, a reflection of a mean looking figure stared back mischievously at him. The image stuck out a tip of his tongue and moved it in a rather stupid manner.
Ade’s furrowed brow deepened; eyes transformed in bloodshot and then with a bold stride, he raised his tightly clenched fist towards the intruder…
The jangling sound of broken glass travelled fast round the quietness of the room. Subsequently, thick, red fluid splattered onto the mirror like drops from a wet canvas. He cowered under the excruciating pain and stared helplessly at the red liquid oozing from his thin hand…

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