Stay away from MEN…
If the world was spinning really fast, you’d be the only object I could make out. If the world was dancing to my tunes, we would all be dead; it would be a dead beat. You were the fire to my fly, Shez.
The hatred I have in my heart for you gives a whole new meaning to the word itself. I hope you burn in hell. After everything you’ve put me through, if you survive this and are somehow reincarnated, I hope you’re born the shittiest version of yourself.
I’m not a bad person, I promise; good people sometimes have murderous thoughts and intents. I am standing in a pool of blood that’s not mine, and I wish I could say I have no idea how it got there, but that would be a lie.
I told him countless times to leave me alone, but no, he wouldn’t listen. Now look what he made me do.
I have blood on my hands and aches where I can’t reach; the scars are visible on my body. How did we get to this? How did things get so bad? The police are about to walk through that door; they will put handcuffs on me and recite my rights, but I know them by heart; it’s one of the things you pick up at law school.
When they arrest me, I will smile and say nothing, for I am guilty. When the detective tells me he knows what I did, I will say nothing; when they ask me if I want a lawyer, I will say nothing; and as they lead me to my cell, I will say nothing.
Panic is the next emotion to hit me; the calm exterior and satisfaction have worn off, and now that I’m off the euphoria of driving the knife in and out of his chest, I’m scared.
I am a twenty-two-year old woman living in Nigeria; my monthly salary is barely enough to get me through the month, and I’m still called out when I drive on the streets of Surulere, “Na woman, no wonder”.
I’ll never survive the scandal; I’ll be called a witch.
Mother will have to stop church for a while; she will never live this down. The church women will tear her to pieces like the wild animals they really are; they’ll make snarky comments like “I’m sure their sons are doing rituals” or “Mother of the witch is coming, oh, make way” or even “What sort of mother is this self, then she’ll be advising other people” because no one loves a scandal more than Nigerians, the same people who you thought were your friends would be the first to destroy you.
They will forget the times when she reached her hands into her pocket and assisted with money, all the times someone needed support to pay school fees or even fed. They will whisper and gossip, then call her all sorts of names because I have brought shame to her name.
Be smart; use your brain. You told no one you would be here. Wash your hands and leave.
To know what happens next, please like and comment, I would love to hear your comments.
