An abundantly great terrifying accident occurred outside the underground bridge. A bloody disaster that caused other people to vomit and close their eyes.
Cries and screaming echoed. Accompanied by groans and mournings of death.
My beautiful Easter came to a stop. I hurried to switch my smart TV screen to the National live broadcast channel.
In a few seconds I had the perfect scene I had expected to see.
My biggest surprise came when I heard their howling and weeping.
Were these people not hitmen? If you had to be one you must be ready to embrace death as a good ormen.
I watched in awe for I knew this was bound to happen. The wages of sin is death.
I knew that this was going to be the result of my action.
They reaped what they had sown. Do I regret it? Hell no.
I did not have any remorse for them or any pity for them.
I clicked on another button just after the lever gear of the black semicircle steering wheel.
To my left a tunnel opened up. I quickly drove in.
By now I am convinced that you must know my behavioural routine.
The sooner I made a distance of about 300m. I blew up the bridge to cover my tracks.
That action increased the havoc hazardous and claimed more people to hell.
I am not sure about how many people died in the process.
This action took quite a number of people I could not quantify.
Even the innocent, like the paramedic and the firefighters who were helping the injured from my intentional accident.
Death professed them as well.
I went over an overflow of happiness run down in my bloodstream. It pulsated in my veins.
But a small, tiny fragment of guilt struck me at the same time. For the innocent people that died wishing to help.
Nothing I could do, I had watched the smart and brave in an attempt to open the galvanised thick steel metals that closed the underground tunnel of the bridge.
"Easter, take over."
I switched positions with my beautiful Easter.
On the national live broadcasting with Precious Sinala in the reporters helicopter inexpressible rounds of whirlpool emotions raced in her spine.
"Holy Christ!"
Precious Sinala appeared shaken as she had witnessed the explosion in front of her.
Luckily their helicopter had not come that close to the ruined blown up bridge.
She must be thanking God, if she were a Christian. Or some supper being if not.
For not being a part of the deceased fellows.
She viewed the catastrophe from a distance.
She trembled from within.
Her eyes were watery but she fought herself hard. She pretended to be strong even when she wasn't.
"Did he just blow himself up?"
She directly singled him out.
"Yes, he just did. We all witnessed it."
Musonda confirmed. Half of the screen showed him and the other Precious Sinala.
Shock had grabbed her as she had her mouth covered.
Her disbelief was evidently expressed without saying a single word.
She found the actions of the deceased Mr Contratino Chungu absolutely unpredictable and beyond shocking.
She had more conviction in her prejudice that he must be indeed insane, a physico and demented as the rumours she heard.
One moment he is a brave soul and another time, cowardly commits suicide. How could you define such a person?
Perpetually deranged, an extremist mad buddy. She considered him, after having had a chat.
Instantly different comments started popping on the bottle blue line of the television sets and whichever device people were streaming on from.
"No doubt he was a psyco. How can a normal person put up such a parody and suddenly decide to take his life? Clearly madness. Dean."
Precious Sinala read,"What do you think about Dean's comment, Musonda?"
"I have no comment over that."
Musonda declined to state his opinion but he went for the next post.
"Extreme insanity. What a pity. I would have loved to see such an exhilarating action prolonged. I loved how he tore down the cops' arsses. Corrupt suckers. Desmond Clark."
"People out there mind your language, we are live on national television. Posts with inappropriate language won't be read or televised."
"Miss Sinala, talk to me about Desmond Clarks thoughts. Honestly I feel bad that he made that stupid decision if I could borrow the word."
"I really think he had much to share with this world. Not that I support violence or his brutal acts and the murders he committed but we needed to get his story out as well."
Precious Sinala concluded.
"Now let's look at Grace Mwale's post."
"Was it even real? Maybe just a prank to get media views and maximise profit from it. Musonda we don't have a believer here."
"Everything is so real. Just look at where Miss Precious Sinala is now. She is in the helicopter giving us the live feed."
The second Musonda ended his convincing words.
The view went on to the rescue team pulling out all those that suffered from the accident and explosion of the destroyed bridge.
The scenario was full of blood, people on fire being put out. The cars that were still burning and the firefighters putting out the fire.
Some people were already on the stretchers and the paramedics working on different wounds for survivors.
"I hope that helped Grace Mwale's doubt to trust the sincerity of our live broadcast."
Precious Sinala added to convince Grace Mwale the reality of the current situation.
"Effison Mulenga says Complete Madness though I enjoyed the thrill. I can't definitely blame Mr Contratino Chungu. He did warn everyone. People don't listen and that's the price that money will pay you. If he came to your house and did a brutal act. I would condemn him."
"What is happening with today's generation?"
Musonda sent a controversial question to Precious Sinala.
"Effison Mulenga has a point. It's a fifty-fifty situation I would rank it.
I turned off the national live broadcasting. I had enough.
"Nonsense, all people on this planet do have some degree of insanity. Someone's life is at risk yet to them it's thrilling? That's total madness."
I muttered to myself. Astonished by unique people's perceptions from different angles.