Michael came charging through my door like a crazed bull. He is a big guy, but he looked bigger with no shirt on. He was screaming, shouting at me, telling me to stay away from his woman, and there was murder in his eyes. I only had time to stand up, and that was probably the wrong thing to do, because he probably took it like a challenge.

He knocked my table aside, and charged towards me. Before I could take flight, the guy was on me, shoving me. In self-defense, I picked a large tray and hit him on the head. But I might as well not have bothered, because it didn’t seem to have had any impact on him. He came back to push me again, and this time, I hit him on the head with a wooden art carving, and hit him hard.

He stopped halfway, and fell on the ground. He wasn’t moving! I had probably murdered the guy. But it was in self-defense. He came into my house to beat me up!

Earlier on, he had been fighting with Dina his wife. He was accusing her of seeing me behind his back. Although I felt the push to go and make him stop shouting at her, I knew that it was none of my business, and I didn’t really want to come face to face with the guy in such a state. So, when he came rushing in through my door, I knew he hadn’t come to have evening tea with me.  The guy was incensed!

I sat down to think for a minute. I had to go to the police to report myself. But first, I needed to tell Dina, what I had just done to her man. I walked over to her door, knocked.

She didn’t answer. I opened the door, and found her seated, with an empty look in her eyes. Somehow, even when she looked so miserable, she still took my breath away. Why is it that the mean selfish guys get the nicest women? Before I could start telling her about Michael, she said, "I know. I heard the fight.”

But it wasn’t a fight, to be truthful. Michael had pushed me, and I had hit him on the head with a wooden stool. She asked quietly, "is he ok?” And I said, "No”.

She stood up, walked past me, as if I was not there, and walked to my flat. I followed behind her. Michael was lying there on the floor. She saw him, and suddenly, she was crying. She ran to him, and started calling his name, telling him to come back to her. I looked on in amazement.

While I hadn’t expected the woman to thank me for murdering her man, I didn’t think she would be that saddened over him. I mean, the guy was beating her up just a few minutes ago! This was truly a weird couple. She faints, the guy cries. She recovers; he starts to beat her up. I knock him down, and she cries for him. Probably, when he woke up, he would continue beating her up.

While my mind was still trying to make sense of this complicated relationship they had, Michael made a sound. He wasn’t dead after all. He opened his eyes, and she was so happy, she kissed him. I was disgusted.  But I was happy I hadn’t murdered him.

She talked to him, and she helped him up on his feet. Leaning on her, she started to lead him out of my apartment. I was still standing by the door, wondering at the madness this couple shared.

As he passed me, Michael threw me a look that left nothing to imagination; he was coming back for me. Clearly, our fight wasn’t over, it was only the beginning. We had crossed the battle lines.

Ends