Blackie: Run!: A Tale of Pain – #6 short story Issue

Cowered in the corner of my room, just 10 days to the start of the year, I had broke my resolution. I felt terrible, I said I wouldn’t do it again. But, no, something must kill a man. There was nothing to do, I stare at my phone, scrolling and refreshing, my basic daily activity. Takes about 15 hours of my day.

I lived through life, not taking cognisance that time went without waiting. I never made the most use of time. Saw movies all day, even at PPA. Query upon query. What type of compassless life do I live. I wanted to be everything, I became nothing at the end. Damola, you are basically useless.

She always made me feel good, laughing and smiling with ber was the only good thing in my life. Staring at her picture was the other good thing. The instant eyes that always said, “you will be fine”. I missed her, missed her calls of “ode”. Yes, I am. It’s my first name.

I needed to see her. The thought of the passionate kiss she left of my lips the last time we saw, lingered. Dressed up in her sneaker, the one I had gifted during christmas. A red top and a 3/4 body fitted jean. She looked perfect. She was perfect.

Her hand wrapped round my neck always gave me the relieve I needed, everytime. I always felt a sense of direction in those moments. It was bliss. “How did I fall for you gan sef?” She asked that day.

She was right, a nobody like me. I was at everything. I could do nothing, not even take care of my apartment. “I don’t know, really, I think you are a fool for loving me” I said in all sincerity, I don’t deserve her. She was too good to be my reality.

Blood oozed down the lower part of my body, stiffening, coupled with the rage of hormones, as she said “I’m a fool for you”. We knew each other since I moved in my apartment provided by PPA. She lived just on top of my apartment.

But she had dressed to slay thus day. I was impressed, my body shrank in my short and singlet. She had come suddenly. Therewas nothing to show on my body too. Months of gym, all to waste, I hadn’t gone back in a long time.

But, it’s been two weeks since this day. I miss her. Where is she. Curiosity killed the cat. The event that unfolded somewhat helped my head get straight. I was left in dilemma, but my life got straight.

I was curious, the day was great though, ran a successful ad for my PPA, and the impressions were impressive.

I climbed the stairs to her apartment. It was open. Silent, dead silent. Two weeks of avoiding me had to end today. The smile on my face disappeared at the gory sight. Instantly, I puked.

There she was, seated in the pool of blood. In the pool of her father’s blood. She shot him – in the head. My hand flew over my mouth. My leg glued to the ground. She looked at me. She had cried her eyes out, she seemed spiritless.

Unable to lift her head. Turning it slightly to look at me was all she could do. “Binti” I murmured. Turning to look at the gun in her hands. It had a silencer. Hearing her name from me made her burst into tears.

Summoned all the courage in, lifting my legs in gentle succession. She lived with her dad alone. Her mother was dead, in a similar manner. Knelt beside her, what had happened, the man was lifeless on my feeling his pulse.

“I killed him” she began. Yes, I know, you witch, I mused. “Ok” emanated from my mouth instead. “I hate him. Damola, you know I love you, right?” She asked

“Fam, don’t put my name in the middle of this. The walls have ears.” I thought again. “Ok”, I said again. Damola, just run. Leave, go to Ibadan. Just travel. Please. These were the suggestions by my rational self, but the yemi my lover in me…

“He raped me. My father started raping me two weeks ago. Everyday, three times. He beats me, he threatens me with knife. At one point, he cut me with knife in the leg. See the scar. He forces himself on me

He places hot iron on my leg whenever i try to resist him. Oral, anal, damola, he rapes me” she wailed on, as she pulled up her long robe to show me her scars. What had happened in 2 weeks. What happened to him.

“One day, he brought his friend home, they were both drunk. They raped me, they went into me, at the same time. My mouth was always gagged. He never let me leave the house. He seized my phone. He defiled me, and made a mess of my life.

Damola, he sabotaged the love I wanted to share with you. He made a mess of the body I longed to give to you. Damola, I killed him. He lost his job 2 weeks ago, it took everything from him. He lost it. But he took it out on me.

“Enough” I rubbed her back. I stared at the dead man. His lifeless body staring into the ceiling. I saw a paper there beside him. It was a DNA test. He wasnt her father. She found out that day.

she had kept all his abuse in, because he was her father. But at the sight of the test result that was kept hidden away in the house. She lost it. She killed him.

I dipped my hands in my pocket. We needed to call the police. She was a murderer. She murdered him. “Run”, I however said as i handed my alawee’s remnant – 3k.

The police would be there, sooner or later. She committed a crime, she needed to be judged, but “run” was all I could say. 7 days gone by now, I’m still scared. What should I have done?

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