Paranoia
I meet numerous versions of you every other day, every other minute maybe even every second, there you are, lurking.
As I begin to walk down my street this evening, I start to think “why?” Why does this always happen to me?
Was it how I walked that made you try to force me into your car? Or was it how I said no? Even when you assured me you were not going to hurt me, was I wrong for not wanting to take a ride with a stranger? Was I wrong for screaming when you touched my ass?

See ehn, i don’t know if you are a bad person or even a good one but I was simply not interested in you neither did I want to give you my number. Isn’t this a free country? Why am I called a slut for not reciprocating your interest? Why must there be something wrong with me because I do not want to be with you? Isn’t no a response? Again, where did I go wrong?
I wish I could apologize. I didn’t mean to insult you by telling you no. I really didn’t mean to refuse your offer, I’ll do better next time. Maybe if I say yes, you won’t have to harass me and I wouldn’t have to be rude and I wouldn’t be scared for my life this night. Problem solved, yeah?
I know I probably deserve the punishment that might come but I’m sorry for having thoughts and desires that are not in line with yours. I should have known that a tiny girl like me telling you no would have consequences. I’m sorry for all the men before who must have felt slighted by my rejection because who am I to say stop? Right?
I must admit that I’m scared. This feels like a Nollywood movie and maybe those movies should have taught me a lesson but those are just movies, I’m hoping you’ll be as generous as the others.
I’m finally in front of my house and I smile. Maybe this was all in my head and you have forgiven my mistake.
As a gloved hand holds a handkerchief to my nose and I start to lose consciousness, my smile widens.
Everyday for the thief and one day for the owner.