All that Glitters....finale

I have managed to keep you guessing, wondering when I would spit the real crime I committed out. I would do so but you have to understand a little more about my past as that would help the present. 
I don't have all the time before I pick the phone to call the police. The only thing I am scared of is not making you understand. 



 Months rolled into years …. Somehow we managed and kept afloat, If only I wasn’t so desperate to leave the slum or maybe if Tara hadn’t heard the desperation in my voice, she wouldn’t have suggested what she did.
 At that time, I was eighteen and though I can’t say I am knowledgeable in the “ways of the world” (my mum’s phrase).she used this when she counseled me the first time I menstruated. I heeded to her advice up until I was curious as to know what happens between a man and a woman, boy and girl under the sheets. I can’t say I have ever enjoyed sex. My late husband humps, produce sounds like a starved dog and after one minute he rolls off. So can’t say I have had a big roll in the sack because I sometime have to fake orgasm just to please him.

 The second time I had sex was when Tara dressed me up for a party where senators were in attendance. The awkward feeling that followed me as Alhaji escorted me to his room vanished when I saw the wad of cash. The man was so generous I gladly ignored his pitiful performance and lavished praise on him. And as they say the rest is history. I moved out of the slums without my family’s blessings.

 We all want some level of comfort, some of us will do anything to get everything, and I was one, saying I didn’t know what I was getting into would be making me sound like an Idiot. I knew everything as to how to protect myself from unwanted pregnancy and took regular test to satisfy I was free from the incurable disease. In short I became a runz girl because I could use what I have to get what I want.

 My tears keep messing up with my vision so I would have to jump to where I met my husband. Time isn’t my friend now, his body is getting cold and I can smell death in the air

David was not the man of my dreams but was close enough that I chose him . Dave as I fondly called him was charming. This I came to know is an act. He exudes charm only when it suits his purpose. He accepted me even when I was afraid he would loathe me for my horrid past. His compassion was what made me say yes to his proposal and  karma paid me back for the homes I tore apart.

 I was never good enough for anything, wouldn’t amount to anything in his eyes. He constantly reminded me that he bought me and was my master so I should obey. In his words” if I tell you to jump, all I want to hear from you is how high”. Who could I run to? Family that had warned me about Dave? Or extended family that sold me out with arm twisting dowry?. They invented tales about how they took care of us when my dad passed on, since I am the only girl, this worked well to their advantage. 

My agony is bound to my body, the pain I feel is begging for release as it locked inside me as though it were my life blood. I took it all, the beatings, the abuse, the jabbing remark that stayed on permanently like a tatoo on my body for three years. 

This is the part I crave you pay rapt attention and interest.

 I wasn't allowed to work and I became a glorified house-help/wife. I had to beg to watch tv and was given alloted time for it. I saw a movie that was aired on the 14th of March 2013, I can tell you everything that happened after; how my clothes clunged to my body due to perspiration, the silence that stayed with me after the movie ended, how I walked slowly head cast down to my room thinking if I had the courage to replicate what I saw.

 you never know how strong until being that is the only way out. I prepared myself mentally and I bidded my time. He sure didn't know what was coming all this time. I started hiding all the sharp objects, knives, hammers, and anything that could be used as a weapon against me, though I worried about him using his body weight. I got a gun and silencer, hid them till when they would come in handy. As the day approached, my steps became lighter, I took time in washing my hair,applying makeup and playing dress up. 

Now, it is only two minutes before the stroke of midnight and the image that pops into my mind is Cinderella.she only had till midnight to shine as I have too, to bask in the splendor of this apartment, the luxury , dresses, money as all will be gone but unlike Cinderella, I wouldn't bother about turning into a princess, this is exactly how I want it to end.

 I woke up this morning, got dressed in clothes I had picked out the night before and sat waiting for Dave to finish getting ready to go out. He turned the door knob but it didn't open and kept trying unsuccessfully till he gave up. He turned towards me with a scowl on his face "Why is the door locked" he asked and I shrugged uncharacteristically daring him to raise his hand to hit me. As soon as he took a step forward, he was looking into the hole of the 9mm I pointed at him. The look on his face was priceless, his oesophagus was too constricted to swallow the spittle that begged to be taken in. 

Payback is bitch and a show off . I pulled the trigger only when his screams were high pitched, the bullet whizzing out of the gun carried with it all the hate, agony and suffering I underwent. he collapsed on the floor with his mouth forming an "o". Maybe he wanted to say " oh God"  I will never know.
It is Time, Time to finish what I started, Time to face consequences, I have called the police, confessed to killing my husband, I know the punishment for the crime, but I have a better plan in place. By the time the police gets here, all they will find is two bodies and a printed letter.