-My Life On Campus

Must Read: My Life On Campus… Part 33

If You Missed The Part 32, Read It Here

Bayo and I wondered who he was talking to, we looked at each other briefly and gazed back on the CSO.
The CSO raised his head away from his desk and statically looked fiercely at Bayo. “You are a liar! You threatened the poor boy all because he was going to expose you!” The CSO yelled.
I smiled while Bayo frowned. Game over, I won. Bayo looked so depressed knowing fully well he was busted.
“Your case would be handled without pity, I promise you that.” The CSO said. “I will make sure you rut in jail for all the problem and pain you have caused the family of the deceased, the school and your friend, Banji.”
“Sir, He’s not my friend!” I interruptively denied.
The CSO looked at me angry because of the manner I cut into his speech. “You better seal your mouth before I change my mind about you.”
I quickly apologized with immediate effect. “I’m sorry sir.” I pleaded, bowing my head.
The CSO wasn’t satisfied with my apology, he still gazed at me angrily. “You are not totally free because you still have queries to answer.”
“Am so sorry Sir.” I pleaded again.
I wished I had sealed my gutter from saying anything at all. I instantly corrected my mistakes by sealing my mouth till I exited the security office. The CSO shifted his attention back to Bayo.
“You will have to produce all the names of the student in your cult group. Black nonsense! I will start from you, in eradicating cultism from this school. silly boy!” The CSO howled uncontrollably. “Okanlawon, take this fool away and lock him up. Then go to Area B police station and inform the DPO about the latest development. You can all be dismissed. Banji wait behind.”
Mr Okanlawon stood at attention and saluted. “Permission to carry on Sir?!” He said.
“Carry On.” The CSO approved.
I stood still looking unruffled but within me, I was throwing a party. Freedom at long last. I felt free like oxygen in the air. What next? I thought and prayed to be favoured.
“Banji, you may go for now but write down your room number and your phone number here.” The CSO smiled and said, pushing a paper and a pen to me.
I quickly wrote the details as demanded. “Thank you Sir. Am through.” I said.
“You may go.”
“Thank you Sir.” I replied, picked my bag and walked out of the CSO’s office.
I had learnt my lesson in the hard way and would never liked to experience it again, even in my next life. I paused, took a quick scan at myself, concentrating more on my shirt which was so unbearable to look at. I pulled it off, turned it inside out and wore it. I looked so much like a garage tout. I bounced out of the security department and walked to my hall.
It was 4 P.M. already and all I needed to do when I reached my room was to fall on my bed and die. Sorry, sleep I mean. I got to my block, reluctantly climbed the stairs like an aged person and forged along my floor to my room. I was initially surprised to see my door left ajar but I realized I didn’t lock the door when I was heading to the department in search of my bag. I entered in, bolted the door and went directly to my bed. I laid down to ruminate on how the day had gone. I was thinking when I heard a phone ring, not my phone nor Emeka’s. The tone came directly from his wing. I became scared, knowing fully well I didn’t leave anyone in the room and no one uttered a word when I came in. I skulked gently behind the curtain that demarcated Emeka’s wing from mine. I pulled the curtain a little backward and peeped at the person lying on his bed. It was Sister Grace.
She laid down on Emeka’s bed with her ears blocked with her earphone. I guessed she had played the music before inserting her earphone. She was so engrossed in the music, that she hummed along with the song that played. Her eyes were closed so she couldn’t see me. She laid so relaxed as if she was in her hostel. I can’t help but notice her erogenous light skinned body. Sister Grace wore an average length blue gown which has some star-like patterns crafted on it. I had totally lost my sense of vengeance when I scrutinized her from her feet to her thighs. The gown had shifted upwards, close to her hips because of her lying position. She laid supine on the bed with her knees bent inwards and her legs dangerously spread apart, so I could vividly see her voluptuous thighs. I immediately released the curtain to its normal position the minute she decided to change her lying position. I waited for some seconds and resumed seeing my x-rated movie. She had laid prone to the bed. I wondered if she knew I was looking at her, for her to had displayed that view to my sight. I tranquilly scanned Sister Grace from her ponytailed hair to her feet, staring more on the twinned pillow-like objects resting just beneath her back; these twinned objects were vibrating repetitively to the rhythm of the music she was listening to and that really caught my attention. My head was aching not for pains but for the random thoughts that collided in it. My body chemistry was changing. I began to sweat copiously. I began to feel the material my zip was made of, not with my hands but with the risen pipe hanging in between my legs. My trouser became tight, so tight in just an area, the area where the two legs of my trouser meets. I was extremely high, not on weed or alcohol but on Grace. Sister Grace wasn’t helping the matter when she made visible her pink coloured pant with a ‘Yori-Yori’ inscription on it; the shirt of that pant is so common just like the ‘My Money Grows Like Grass’ shirts. Should I stop watching? Should I confront her as planned? Or Should I ask her to enroll on my special extramural class starting that minute? My mind and brain worked hand in hand like Larry Page and Sergey Brin, the google guys, to find the answers to those pressing questions.
I stood behind the curtain with my two hands packing my trouser upwards from beneath, thinking deeply on what to do and the move to take.
“You bad. You want it.” Sister Grace said loudly.
I became frightened when I heard what she said. My mind became totally worked out immediately I added another set of questions to its search. What did she mean? Did she see me? Was she talking to me? I wondered for some minutes and became more confused or closer to the truth when she spoke again.
“I know you want it cos you bad.”


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