When did I become this stranger? I hardly recognize this person staring back at me. I wiped the dirty mirror to get a clearer view. What I saw sent a chill down my spine;
hollow red eyes, dried trails of tears on my cheeks, my once luscious full lips had become thin and chapped, pale skin with dried blood stains conspicuously mapped across my forehead and neck area, and I was still trembling.
MEN, the one word that explains it all; I had given and given and given till I had nothing more to give. I lost my self in the process. Once I had been young, and beautiful, turned a few heads and made some groins burn in want. Back then they would have given anything to be with me. Anything to taste those full lips, anything to behold the full twin towers that were my breasts, part my thighs and taste the milky deliciousness within. Then mount and insert the throbbing “Johnson”. It seemed to me like a long time ago. Lately they treat me like they are doing me favors, they just nudge my thighs apart and move in, ready or not then the grunts comes and they pour. I dared not resist or they would lose interest completely. And no matter how they treat me am still there hoping and praying that they’d change. Not once did I ever leave anyone, not once did I ever complain, and not once did I ever cheat. They would come with same lies and I’d still give in, I was a sucker for love.
When I met him, he treated me differently. More like he couldn’t believe how lucky he was, it was good for awhile, who am I kidding? It was great for awhile; I did everything to please him, everything to keep him. He did ‘grunt and pour’ as much as he liked, every time he wanted and any where he wanted. Then the brush off came painful as it has always been. I took it all in good faith and he walked away.
Then he returned, said how sorry he was and I accepted him. The second time was even better; we had fun, he took me places. Those days were the highlights of my life. I didn’t mind the ‘grunt and pour’ I gave it whenever he wanted, and when he didn’t I made him want. It turned sour again when a fetus formed, he said he wasn’t ready, said we couldn’t handle a baby yet. I didn’t want to lose him, I had begun to believe he was the one, and I knew I had little chances of landing myself a good prospect like him. So I did the dreadful thing he was asking of me. He stuck around for a while, and finally he left.
He returned yet again, utterly broke without a kobo to his name. I took him in gladly without a grudge and helped him back to his feet. I worked two jobs to meet up with his demands, but in all I was happy he was with me, I didn’t mind the stress, I didn’t mind that sometimes out of frustration he’d hit me. I didn’t mind nothing if he’d stay. He seemed rather more emotional the third time, and grateful ‘if I get back to my feet we will get married baby’ he said. I cried. No man I had been with had ever said that to me, It solidified my resolve. I worked tirelessly for months and catered for him. Another fetus formed and he convinced me yet again that we weren’t ready for it yet, considering that he was jobless and I was having a hard time already catering for two mouths. I did that dreadful thing he asked of me again and life went on, I came back one rainy cold evening to meet an empty house, he had gone! With the money I was saving up for rent. The pain this time felt like a continuous stab right through my heart. Creating a huge hole and emptiness in my soul. I wept
Then he came back this last time. Spun a terrible tale of how the business he invested in to surprise me, because he was ashamed of living off me had failed. He was duped. I knew it was a lie, for I had heard stories of his escapades with women. The ‘big money spender’ I took him in again and tried to be more cautious. I knew I was supposed to leave him but I also knew I won’t be able to. He said he was willing to work; I helped him find a job. A bit of manual labor but it paid well. He tried to buy me a few things to prove he’s changed. With time I started being comfortable with him again. One night he brought drinks home, he said we were celebrating. We did shots, countless ones and we made sweet love, it wasn’t just a ‘grunt and pour.’ I was beyond happy. He was becoming responsible and sweet; people complimented me, because the happiness was obvious, I looked younger. Then I realized another baby was growing inside of me. I couldn’t believe my luck, fate has smiled on me. I told him, and watched his face grow dark. He tried to tell me it wasn’t a good time yet but I wouldn’t hear. I insisted reminding him he’s got a job now, and we could get married like he suggested. That was when he dropped it.
“I can’t marry you’ I’m in love with someone else and we are planning to get married”
I thought that was him telling a bad joke, but I looked into his eyes and saw I was the joke myself. I saw him for he who was then, a deceitful, lying cheat. A sorry excuse of a man.
I told him out rightly that I was going to have the baby and he’s going to marry me. He was saying things, but I wasn’t listening. I made my way to the sanctuary of the bedroom we’ve shared all this time. I felt his hard hands around my arms, I felt the pull, I whirled around to face him and got a whiff of tobacco and alcohol, his usual scent. He was ugly to me then. I turned to walk away and hide the tears falling freely. He pulled again, harder this time “don’t walk away from me,” he yelled!
“You are going to remove that thing!”
Then he hit me, just like the old days when he took out his frustrations on me. Then he continued yelling
“You’ll not jeopardize me and mira’s relationship!”
“I love her not you! How would you even believe for a minute that I’d marry you?”
“You’re smart Kemi do the math!”
“Coming back to you was a gamble.”
“Remove that thing!”
From this dirty mirror I can see his fallen mass and the drying pool of blood around his head. I can see his half closed eyes and the shock still registered on his face. I can see the huge bruise from where I had hit him severally. I don’t feel anything, not remorse, not fear, not pain. My neck still feels tight from where he had almost strangled me to death. Whatever comes after now, I’m ready.
(Image from Google images)
Hmm.. Murder in the cathedral... #bestofthemall... #greatone #Ade
ReplyDelete