THE PROTECTED CRIMINALS

EPISODE 8

This was not the Richard I knew back then; the Richard I knew back then was a thorn in my side, please forgive me. He used to be rough and tattered, and he still enjoyed playing with sand like a baby, despite the fact that he was around 16 at the time. That morning, though, I spotted a tall, muscular, and attractive man near the creek. A lot had changed about him, and the city was genuinely a paradise where milk and honey flowed. Despite the fact that a lot had changed about him, he was still as bothersome as he had been a few years ago. He approached me and begged to assist me in carrying my pot; I declined not because he had previously broken the pot, but because I believed it would appear that I was exploiting him in the same way I had used other people.

I had no choice but to give in because he refused to give up and insisted on lugging the water pot. That was almost a week ago, and now he has returned to the city; I had hoped he would stay in the village forever, and because of him, I had started going to the stream every morning; I didn't go every morning before, but I went at least once every two days. He explained that he needed to return to his work, which he runs a large pharmacy in the city. Richard had left, and I was horrified when I heard from his parents that he had gone. I had hoped he would change his mind over night and come back to me screaming "I ain't leaving anymore," but no, Richard had left.

He said he'd be back in a few weeks, but I had the feeling he'd stay for another six years, just like he had the first time he went.

I awoke one morning to find a strange man standing in front of my compound, he claimed he was searching for Tonia, which I informed him I was, he then handed me a piece of paper and said it was a letter from Richard, which I opened quickly and was stunned by the contents.

"How are you doing, and how is Heartrow? I hope your family is doing well. I merely want to utilize this medium to rid your mind of any barriers you might imagine are between us; if I continue to lead you on, I will be a sinner. Please don't assume there's anything between us because I have a fiancé in the city. I adore my fiancé and would never leave her for any lady, not even a countryside girl. I don't have anything for you; I just went with the flow. Remember, you're getting older by the day, so get married."

I read the letter, again and again, tears streaming down my face, and I couldn't believe it was the same Richard who I had seen as so loving who had written it. I dried my eyes as I gazed up at the postman. " Could you please tell me how I can contact the sender?" I inquired after noticing that his address was missing from the letter and that he had substituted my address for his.

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RICHARD'S POV:

As soon as the principal saw me that morning, he said, "Mr. Richard, I remember telling you yesterday that we don't employ secondary school dropouts." "Sir, I didn't come to ask for a teaching position; you can hire me as your cleaner," I hoped. "A cleaner?" he inquired. I said, "Yes, sir, a cleaner." He looked at me seriously and remarked, "You don't look like you'd want to work as a cleaner." "Believe me, sir, I can do it," I assured him. He offered, "Why don't you investigate other schools, they could want to hire you as a teacher." "Sir, I knew before coming here that I wanted to work here," I repeated. "Are you serious about becoming a cleaner?" He inquired once more.

"It will be my joy, sir," I said with a smile. "Then you're employed," he said, a smile on his face. "Thank you, sir, I will not disappoint you, sir," I said as I stood up to leave. "I will resume immediately," I said as I walked away. " No, you come back to work tomorrow." The principal raised an objection, but I merely nodded and walked out of the office.

As I moved towards the gate, I heard someone say, "Hey, Club man." I turned around and saw Esther, the girl from last night's club. "What are you doing here, club girl? Have you been following me?" As I came towards her, I smiled and asked. She said, "No, I truly work here," as I swallowed my spit. "I'm a teacher here," she stated once again.

"And what are you doing here?" She had inquired of me. I forced a smile as I replied, "I recently got hired." "Wow, whose class are you going to teach?" She asked again, a happy smile on her face, and I smiled back. "The toilet class," I said, and her smile shifted to bemusement. "Can you tell me about the toilet class?" She pressed for further information. "I'm a cleaner," I explained. "No, tell me you're kidding," she retorted. "I'm not going to tell you that because I'm not lying to you," I stated. I cut her off, "Your personality doesn't fit that of a..." I said, "Personality doesn't matter." "So, what happened at the club yesterday after I ran away?" she said. I must have been so involved in the battle that I didn't even notice she had run away.

"I went away as well," I informed her. She laughed and continued, "I discovered my way out the minute that guy shoved you down." I inquired, "So you left me to be beaten?" She said, "No, I merely ran for my own safety." "All well, I'll see you tomorrow," I said as I walked away. "I didn't get your name," she yelled across the room. "I'm not interested," I said. She shouted again, "good meeting you Mr. Not Interested," and I grinned as I walked off the gate to my bicycle, which was tethered in a corner of the school.

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TONIA'S POV:

What shall I call them? Men, Men, Men? They are dishonest animals, the worst of God's creations, wrapped in lies and enslaved by lust. They're not worth anything, not even a dollar, so don't waste any more of your tears. You deceived yourself by thinking you'd discovered a decent one. It is lust when you witness someone showering you with love. But, despite all of this, girls remain the weaker party; even if the guy you love is the worst criminal on the planet, a persecutor, you must continue to love him. Why? Because we've developed a genuine affection for them. We don't have a choice but to continue loving since what we're carrying is true love, not true lust.

No one would have believed it if I hadn't told them. I know Richard, the same person who sent me this heartbreaking letter, but guess what? I still adore him. Don't call me a fool; I have true love.

"No, ma'am, I'm not sure how you can get in touch with him." That day, the postman had responded to me. "But I can wait for you to write him a letter," he continued again, as I glanced at him, perplexed. "How will you deliver the letter to him if you don't know how to contact him?" I inquired of the mailman. "They do pick it up from a box in the city, a kind of wooden mailbox," the postman explained. ”.

"Don't worry about the letter; someone else will pick it up," I murmured as more tears streamed down my face. "However, ma, why are you crying?" The mailman inquired. " Am I? Oh, it's nothing," I said, wiping my tears away. "Take heart, ma," the postman murmured as he went away with his letters in his hands. I glanced at the letter in my hands once more, tempted to shred it and toss it away, but instead, I tied it with my breast wrapper and walked inside, crying, no doubt, since I adore Richard. I've never felt the same way about another guy as I did with Richard.