CODE SEVEN Page 2

of Code Seven. Besides, am back to smelling my shit. So, let me make a step in developing my new theory till the sun shines again.

  I think freedom is what we miss. Personally, I had it all before I changed the course. Let’s say I had the best education, top grades and a little discipline. Of all achievements on top was my favorite, architecture. Yeah, am an architect? However, I have brought down a few in the last seven years.

  Chapter 2

  It all began at Brixton hills high school in the year 1998. Back in the day, I was a young talented musician looking up to a very bright future. In that, apart from biology and chemistry stuff, I was interested in music as well. That’s why I had signed up for a music class which was optional, and at the club too. To say the least, I was smart. In fact, I already knew how to play the guitar and piano before I even joined in the third grade. This in a great way, contributed to my popularity at such a tender age. Yeah call me a freshman, no offence.

  “Mr. Adam you rap so well, who would you wanna be like a few years from now?” Mr. Hudson asked.

  “jayzz of course sir.” I replied.

  “Why jayzz and not Nicki or Rihanna? You people are still feminist yeah?’ Miss Helen argued.

  “Not like that.” “It’s because am a men, pursuing the same career, I want a man role model you know.” I had answered.

  (Whispers from the rest of the class).

  “That’s ok, your right Mr. Adam,”

  “it isn’t about feminists, let’s call it responsibility.” Mr. Hudson commented.

  (A little silence).

  “But you don’t have to be a woman? Just take a few good odds on their performance.”

  “To have a role model, doesn’t mean you have to be exactly like them, right class?” Miss Helen had questioned smiling.

  (Murmur).

  I think I saw Mr. Hudson try to defend his point before the bell rang. Oh, I felt sorry for him. The lesson was over and from the smiles I saw on everyone’s face, I could tell the lesson had been a success.

  As usual, later in the day I used to join my three friends in the pool for a swimming competition. After that, make sure I got home by five p.m. in the evening. However, that day on 27th July 1998, everything about me changed for the worse. I guess that’s when my nick name spencer came along. This was after an argument with Nickson a friend of mine, just because he couldn’t tolerate the the fact that I had defeated him.

  He jumped off pool, and came at me fast yelling, I had cheated. I did know that for sure, he would kick my ass if I didn’t do something. Brian and Henry were still in the pool, so I had no option on defending myself. I can say nick was tall and well-built. Thus, he obviously surpassed me in all combat prospects. For as long as I had known him, he used to be cool. That day, I didn’t know why he was so mad at me for beating him once. Most of the time he won, and none of us dared accuse him of anything live alone cheating. He increased his paces towards me, so as to strike fast before others could intervene.

  “You son of a bitch, why Did you do that?”

  “What, you got a problem?” I replied as I took a step back.

  He threw his first blow, which hit me right on the face. God, it was so painful. Somehow I still feel it up to date every time I sneeze, especially now I have cold. To defend myself I grabbed his vest and pushed him back as he thrashed his left fist for another blow. Accidentally, he tripped over the swimming pool edge and fell right on his back me on top of him. I thought he could role me over, so I had held him tight. Astonishingly, he lay still breathing heavily just staring at me. By this time the others had come to my rescue. They all glanced their strange looks at him then me.

  “Oh God, what have you done? Get off, he is hurt” Henry had yelled at me.

  I quickly jumped off and left him alone. Things happened too fast that day. The last thing I recall after the incident was being kicked from behind into a cell at Brixton police station.

  I had never been in such a situation before. I was shivering and freighted at the same time. Reason, everything I used to hear about this place was now real. The place was a little dark, apart from the dim yellow light that hit the wall on my right hand side. Which meant the sun was setting. Furthermore, I doubted whether my step dad would get to my rescue on time.

  Before I could reconstruct the events of that day, I turned to ask officer about my accusations as he locked the door behind me. I wanted to ask him of Simon’s situation too, but it sounded a bad idea. So I had dropped it. More so, judging from the negativity he had shown earlier, I doubted whether he could tell. Of course, I was right. he didn’t. Judging that angry, terrifying look on his face, he was probably counting on my desperate state or even worse. One last look and he walked away.

  Then, everything going on seemed too much for me. A few hours earlier in a music lesson, and now in police custody. I never imagined such a day would come. Well, it in fact did. Even if it would be over, I was quiet sure nothing would ever be the same. My girlfriend molly, my dad, everything would change eventually.

  Suddenly, I heard someone breathe heavily behind me, so I had jumped back. Thanks to God I wasn’t alone. At the far corner, I spotted someone a sleep on the floor, leaning against the wall. I couldn’t tell whether he was facing me or the wall. That didn’t matter. All I hoped was he wasn’t one of those crazy freaks, who enjoyed raping other inmates. I thought, he noticed me getting closer to him. Well, the snoring suggested he was way too far asleep, probably in dreaming. So, I sat on the floor, leaning against the wall next to the door.

  That night, I guess whoever the guy was and I were the only people in there. I could hear no whispers or screams only his snoring sounds. Soon, it was evening and thanks to whoever light the bulb on the corridor, that at least shed some light in.

  The next thing I felt was a heavy slap on my face. I quickly jumped up even before I could open my eyes, and moved three steps back towards the door. Ready to scream if he was a ‘bad guy’.

  “Hey kid what’s your name?” I quickly rubbed my eyes to see who had questioned.

  “Am Adam sir, am really sorry to wake you.” I answered.

  “How old could you be?”

  “Seventeen. “I answered

  “Call me Ben kid.”

  “What the hell are you doing in here anyway?” he asked.

  “There was an accident men, I think I hurt my friend.” I answered

  “Uh! You can’t be in here for hurting your friend, unless pretty bad.”

  I knew this place was rough, so I didn’t bother asking him why he had slapped me earlier. However, slowly he proved to be convincing and I told him my story. Looking at him I could tell he was one of those ghost thugs who snatch peoples stuff on allies especially downtown.

  Every time I get surprised why some people like talking to others, their faces too close to theirs. Especially, if not related in anyway. For instance, this guy Ben had bad breath. The more I tried moving my head back, the closer he came. I just prayed he wouldn’t kiss me because I wasn’t gay and furthermore, I wouldn’t survive his bad breath.

  I don’t know why he insisted on calling me spencer, however much I told him I was Adam. Spencer, my official name now, was invented by Ben that ghost thug. That night, we talked much. Sometimes I felt motivated or rather good of what I had done. Though deep inside I still felt guilty. Then, I realized to him every good saying or proverb meant the opposite. For instance, when he talked about standing up for himself or taking responsibility, he had to include someone dying. Which sounded a little weird at the time.

  To be honest, something felt so good in the inside though I couldn’t really figure out what it was. Sometimes times it took control of me and
I somehow enjoyed the conversation as much as he did. I felt fear drift away. How it all happened, I don’t really remember but I slept peacefully for the rest of that night.

  The next morning, I was woken by an officer pulling me by the collar. I knew it was time to stand in court and have the judge decide my fate. I don’t remember telling Ben good bye, but later, I suppose that son a bitch stole a hundred bucks from me.

  Nonetheless, later in the day I stood in court before the judge and a couple of others who wanted justice as much as Simon did. If, he was still alive. To my guess if he wasn’t dead, I was sure he had some sort of a severe spine injury. Furthermore, I wasn’t afraid anymore. Such that, everything that happened sounded like drama to me. For God’s sake, I wish I knew Ben had brainwashed me of the meaning of life.

  Later, it turned out that Simon had suffered a severe spinal injury which had been an accident. It was a tough job for my lawyer to prove my innocence, despite Simon’s family demand for justice. Dad, didn’t say anything. He just sat in the front row next to my step sister Lucy, then a college graduate. He kept his eyes on me all along. But I could see pity in them though.

  He had adopted me from the orphanage at the age of five and since then, all I know he had been a loving father. He once showed me a medical report indicating that, I was found abandoned in a basket at