CHAPTER TEN

The day rushed in faster than the night, as though it hurried to take its place. You could imagine the sun pleading impatiently to the moon as streaks of a faded orange stained the robust sky as early as five in the morning. The nights at school seemed a little too short while still being interrupted by the humming of the mosquitoes to an unfamiliar song. Most people had the luxury of staying padded under the protection of a mosquito net, but few others weren't lucky.

School bells rang, sending the usual jittery. Everyone rolled into class feeling a little less merry. The chattering remained the same as a new story had been glued to everyone's lips; Martins raped Mary. No teacher brought up the talk during classes but sure did throw him a disappointed stare. Classes were slow for that day; hours and hours of long lectures but the walk clock still read eleven o'clock.