SWEAT

I wondered why the principal had summoned me. My mind raced through the possible crimes I may have committed in the recent past. Last time a member of our class was called to his office, that was the last we saw of Potea. He had done nothing more than wail in shock due to the heaps of homework we had been assigned.

My trembling hands drew my handkerchief from my pocket to wipe off the trickling sweat as I rose from my seat making my way towards his office. Why me? Why now? Only four months were left before finalizing high school. Could it be because of that scuffle with Kemboi or the heist that Mwizi and I had planned? It had to be that. My naive self thought it would be water under the bridge but Lo and behold!

His door in front of me, I fix my tie up and tuck in my shirt. I lift up my trembling right hand and muster enough courage to knock. "Come in!" a deep intimidating voice instructs. I open the door and stand still like a statue. Well filed documents, nicely hung potraits and a calendar, shining black tiles and well clustered stationery draw my attention, and behind the well curved mahogany desk sits the man who has summoned me. A black bow-tie, white shirt and grey suit is his appareal for the day.

After a minute, he put aside the document he was reading, placed his arms on the table and looked at me dead straight in the eye. His facial expression was hard to read but I knew this ought to be important. Sweat trickled down my back as I too tried to maintain eye contact. "Is your name Hope?" he inquired.

"Yes it is sir." I timidly responded.

"Do you know why I have summoned you here?" he asked, in a deeper tone.

After a moment of pin-drop silence, I recalled what my mother had always told me about how honesty was the best policy. Although I was fumbling with my words I managed to confess how Mwizi and I had acquired the juiciest mangoes despite the teachers' forbiding us from doing so for the tree grew in the neighbours compound, not the school's. Although, the forbidden fruit tastes so sweet. His mouth was left agape.

"Interesting story Hope, actually I simply wanted to inform you that you had been declared winner of the Fast Wrists Writing Competition, but now I see we have more to talk about if you do not mind taking a seat." He responded. My elation due to the news quickly faded away as I now realized I had dug myself a grave. I was like a mouse already snared by a mouse trap.