Me: I warn you, I hate men who dance badly.

Wesley: Good. I also hate girls who dance badly.

I wake up smiling to myself. Casually, this Wesley looks interesting. Besides, it's not bad either. He wears a blue Jeffrey that hugs his thighs and a red polo shirt. I look at his shoes. I always pay attention to the shoes of the men who approach me. A reflex transmitted by Laila. This girl is crazy. She always says "a man's shoe tells you who he is and what he has".

Well at the same time, Laila is a little interested girl. She herself is unemployed at home, but if you are not an executive you should not even look at her. At the same time, since men are born bastards, they must probably deserve to be treated like that. Anyway, it didn't really concern me since I was destined to end my life on my own.

However, I found this DJ good from the beginning but now he has disturbed. When Wesley asked me to give him a dance it was Nigerian music playing. Not the kind where you have to stick together. And when I'm already on the track, the moron launches the zouk. What an idea to launch the zouk in the middle of the evening. Even more so when I'm about to dance with a stranger.

Me: Well, I think the DJ doesn't want us to dance. Maybe next time...

Wesley pulls me to him and hugs me tight. I try to fight back but he's way too strong for me. I look up and see him watching me with his same smirk. This guy has a way of pissing me off. I hate his superior airs there. I especially hate that someone, even less a man has ascendancy over me.

While I'm cursing him internally, he finds a way to add a layer of it by speaking in the ear.

Wesley: Let it be. No need to resist.

Me: Hmmm!

Wesley: Relax honey!

Wesley takes my head and lays it on his chest. I let myself go because anyway I know I can't fight him. I'm used to letting myself do more. I did just that. But hey, the difference with Wesley is that he at least didn't look dangerous.

Wesley: Now that I'm a little closer to you, can you tell me why you're playing rough?

Me: I don't play anything.

Wesley: Really? Why am I having trouble believing you?

Me: That's your problem.

Wesley: Okay okay. We're not talking about that now.

Wesley lays my head on his chest like I'm a baby to be protected. From a distance, people might tell each other that he and I are together. For people who have just met, I find that this contact is far too close. For me, it's practically like kissing a man on the first night. Knowing that I have never had sex with anyone.

The longer I stay curled up in Wesley's arms, the better I feel there. I feel like I'm safe there. He's not really strong but he has this reassuring thing when I'm with him. Unfortunately for me, who was already enjoying dancing with him, the DJ switches to another musical rhythm. The coupé-décalé. But Wesley hugs me for a few more seconds. While I'm supposed to be thrilled to have to let go of him, I'm not complaining.

Wesley: Good! I will have to separate you from me.

Me: Sorry?

Wesley: I see you don't want to leave me but...

Me: No, but are you delusional? Who do you even think you are?

Wesley: For Wesley. Relax honey, I'm kidding. Come on, let's talk outside.

Wesley pulls me by the hand without even waiting for me to tell him if it's okay to go outside with him. As I leave, I glance at Laila. She was apparently watching us. I wonder where she got this guy. This is the first time she has introduced me to a character as temperamental as Wesley. In response to my questioning look, she smiled at me. I don't know if I want to kill her or rather congratulate her. I just can't find this Wesley.

Wesley: So Roxanne, tell me about yourself.

Tell him about me? I wonder what part of my story I should tell him. As I reflect on what to say to Wesley, I have a flashback.

* IN THE PAST

15 years rather. It's Saturday, 11 p.m. I watch TV with mom and dad. Bradley is not here. I heard mom say he was dating his girlfriend. I'm glad he's not here. Knowing him near me literally terrifies me. Mom and dad don't know what's going on. On the contrary, mom thinks I'm a naughty girl. I am not happy like before, besides, I pushed Lyam hard so much that he fell and hurt his arm. But I don't blame myself. Just like Bradley, he wanted to touch me too.

Mom had left me at their house for the day before leaving for work. Even on Saturday she works. Same for dad; he even only goes on a mission. And since Bradley was also unavailable, as often I went to stay with Lyam. When I walked in he immediately wanted me to play with him. So I offered to play cards. He accepted. Then he said he didn't want to play cards anymore, so I offered to play ball.

But his mom refused to let us go downstairs to play. So he said let's play Mom and Dad. Except that for me, this game was no longer fun. I said no. He insisted and I confirmed my refusal. But he wanted to shake me and there without thinking I pushed him away. He took a wrong step, fell and hit his arm on the table. Mom yelled at me for at least an hour.

Even tonight, mom isn't smiling at me. She's still mad at me. But Dad had asked her to let me watch TV with them in the living room. Realizing the late hour, he sent me to bed. Tonight, I'm not afraid when I go to bed. I fall asleep peacefully.

However, as I was already falling asleep, someone came to wake me up in the night.

Bradley: Roxanne, are you asleep yet?

Me: Yeah...yes.

Bradley: But why do you sleep when I'm not there?

Me: Dad said I had to go to bed.

Bradley: You don't have to sleep when I haven't come to say goodnight to you. You understand ?

Me: Yeah...yes.

Bradley: Take off your pants.

Me: I'm sleepy!

Bradley: Take your pants off Roxanne!

I comply. Despite the darkness in my room, I feel Bradley's menacing stare. I find myself only with the top of my pajamas. My heart is beating very fast and very strong. Bradley is going to do this weird thing to me again. He stops my two legs and spreads them. I'm crying.

Bradley: Shut up! Mom and Dad are still in the living room.

He does lots of things to me that disgust me and hurt me. Since he knows I'm going to want to scream, he puts his hand over my mouth and nose, preventing me from breathing properly. The longer he continues, the more it hurts me. I gesticulate and it prompts him to put more pressure on my face with his hand. But I'm having more and more trouble breathing.

And I no longer gesticulate because of the feel of his finger inside me, but rather because of my inability to breathe. I don't know if he realizes it but he ends up removing his hand inside me and the other on my mouth.

Bradley: We have to stop moving like that, huh. Get dressed. Tomorrow we'll catch up when mom and dad go out. And I don't want to see you move or scream. You know what I can...

Mom: Bradley where are you?

Bradley: Hush! Here I am.

Mom: But what are you doing in Roxanne's room?

Bradley: Coming back from the bathroom, I heard a noise. I went in to see, she was apparently having a nightmare. Isn't it Roxanne?

I do.

Mom: Hmmm! Ok Roxanne It's going to be fine, okay?

Me: Alright.

She kisses my forehead and walks out of my room, leaving me in the dark. I spend the whole night crying. I'm afraid to sleep and that Bradley will come back..

* PRESENT

Me: I would say that I am a very ordinary young girl.

Wesley: Really? But who refuses to know new people.

Me: Let's just say there are faces I prefer to avoid.

Wesley: Ha! ha! ha! So my face doesn't inspire confidence?

I do ! He looks like a maquisard from New-Bell.

Wesley: Ha! ha! ha! It's good ! You have a sense of humor.

Me: And you guerrilla, what's your story?

Wesley: I'm Wesley, a 29-year-old male bank executive. A man who can't resist a girl as beautiful and strong as you.

Me: That's it! The blah blah blah has begun.

Wesley: Think about it if you want. Either way, you'll soon change your mind.

Me: Soon? Where ? When ?

Wesley: Tomorrow to start. We'll go get some ice cream.

Me: Uh! Are you telling me or asking me?

Wesley: In your opinion?

Wesley is truly an arrogant character. What does he even believe? He must be too handsome.

Me: You will have your ice cream with someone else. Certainly not with me. Goodbye.

I get up and leave him on the balcony. As I walk into the room, I feel his gaze on me. I wonder if it's still the same mocking, arrogant smile he wears. I don't know what it really is, but it really seems like he's not used to receiving resistance from girls. Anyway, there's a first time for everything.

Me: Where did you pick up your guy?

Laila: Huh? What happened?

Me: Who does he think he is?

Laila: Ha! ha! ha! Are you sure you're not exaggerating?

Me: Hmm! Either way, I want to go home.

Laila: Hmmm! Is it always because of him like that? What did he even do to you?

Me: Nothing to do with him. I'm tired. It's two o'clock in the morning.

Laila: Um, you too! I'm still working with the guy there

Me: Ok but I really can't take it anymore. I'm going to take a fare taxi.

Laila: Ok. I'll come with you.

Me: No need. Continue your discussion with your new... future darling. I'm going to stand in front of the gate to take the taxi.

Laila: Are you sure?

Me: Yes, yes it will be fine. Since you've been waiting for the chance to talk to him. You can come with me like that and when you come back we've already got it back.

Laila: Ok but wave when you arrive.

Me of course.

I doubt very much that there is aggression in this neighborhood. It's not a residential area but the advantage with working-class neighborhoods is that if you try to attack someone, you sign your death warrant. My Beninese brothers love popular justice. They are like rabid dogs that you untie as soon as you shout "thief".

But I understand them. Myself, I have often dreamed of being able to take revenge on my executioners. To be able to make them suffer the same shame, the same feeling of dirtiness, the fear, the pain.

I've been on the road for ten minutes and not even a single taxi has passed yet. I decide to go to the crossroads a hundred meters away. From where I am, I see taxis passing. Except that the road leading to this crossroads is rather dark. But hey, I tell myself as I walk forward that the bandit is not waiting for me to attack.

I begin to wonder if I did well to take this path when I see a group of three strange men ten meters away. What an idea to come and stay there anyway. As I move forward, I clear my throat, convincing myself that these guys won't do anything to me.

Man 1: Good evening my dear.

So these are the things that annoy me about the Beninese. "My darling", I played marbles with him when I was a child? But no respect what? I want to answer but I hold back. I tell myself it's no use wasting your time with such idiots. So I continue my journey pretending not to have understood. Mistake !

Man 2: We greet you, don't you answer? Who do you think You Are ?

I continue on my way without looking at them. I also hurry slightly.

Man 1: Oh! We're talking to you, aren't we?

Man 3: Who does she take for?

At that moment, two of the guys got in my way. The third is behind me.

Man 1: What's your name?

Me: I want to pass please.

Man 1: Excuse me? Do you know who you're talking to?

He takes care to give me a slap while shouting at me. It is so strong that I wonder if I have not lost a tooth or if I will not have cerebral sequelae. In any case, I see blurred.

Man 1: A bitch like that. I'm going...

A voice behind: Oh! Leave her alone.

For the first time in my life, I say thank you to this God whom I do not venerate. Within seconds, I had already imagined what these guys were going to do to me. Fortunately, a good Samaritan came to save me. I don't see who it is. Two of the robbers are holding me.

The voice behind: I told you to let go, didn't I?

Man 1: You who? You even know...

The voice behind: Rick leave the girl there say so.

Man 1: Who is it?

He lets me go but the other still holds me. The one who appeared as the leader, was surprised that my good Samaritan knew his name. He's definitely a neighborhood guy.

Man 1: Hmmm! it's you ? But why didn't you tell me?

The voice behind: Let go of the girl first.

Man 1: Big brother, the girl there disrespected me.

The voice behind: How many times do I have to ask you that?

Man 1: Okay! OK ! You are the boss. Let her go.

Both types perform mechanically.

Man 1: Well, Big brother, you have to tell her to know where she's going eh and to answer when we talk to her. Let's go guys!

It was as if my heart had been suspended on a weak thread. I thought I felt my heart sink. Relief washed over me. I turn to see my benefactor and the silhouette is familiar to me. Who do I see???!!! Wesley!!!

To be continued........