Òyì nke e mepụtara

My hand grabs his wrist. Tight. Too tight. He winces. “What the hell—” I squeeze. Harder. He drops. Knees hitting the floor. Shock spreads across his face. Pain follows. Real pain. The kind I’ve known my whole life. “Let go.” His voice shakes. Good. Now he understands. Just a little. I lean closer. Slow. Controlled. “You were right.” He freezes. Confused. I tighten my grip. “People like me shouldn’t stand.” Pause. Let it sink. Then I twist. Not enough to break. Enou