“Let us all remember- We are dust, and unto dust, we shall return!” With that the priest concluded the funeral service and the body was laid to rest, never to be heard from again.

The cause of death- major blows to the head, leading to a broken cranium and intense bleeding.

Gina had met the one God created for her, or so she thought. Demola was a complete package- good looks, a successful career, and of course, the money. It was all bliss, and romance bloomed for the first month, after which she realized that the devil, as always, tampered with this close-to-perfect couple created by God.

Gina wished she had known earlier about Demola’s anger management issues. Could that be what his friends meant when they often said, “Take it easy with him”?

At first, she thought they meant he was head over heels in love with her and they had not seen a woman who made him feel that way. She never suspected, especially the times they would throw salutations her way- “Iyawo Wa” (which meant “Our Wife”), in unison whenever she was seen.

Gina was often found making an appearance with a swollen face and puffy, red eyes. Time and again, Demola would beat her like they were contesting a heavyweight wrestling match for a championship. Her friends have asked her to quit the relationship, but Demola always won her over with gifts and money. She would forgive him each time her phone buzzed with a new message from the bank, updating about the new credit in her account. She always thought she could handle whatever was thrown her way until death came knocking.

Demola had just gotten dressed for a night out. Walking across, he scanned the table for his car keys but couldn’t find it. He furiously screamed “Gina”, at the top of his voice, and questioned her about the keys. She rushed to the place she had kept her purse and the keys,  and handed the keys to him. But instead of taking them and leaving, he slapped her face so fiercely, it stung her ear causing her to lose balance.

“Have I not told you never to use my car? Don’t you have yours?”

Gina tried explaining that her car tyre had given way, but Demola was having none of that. Her explanations only infuriated him more so he continued hitting her. He had lost control, he loosened his belt and hit her with its metalhead.

She screamed as she ran out of the room and he rushed behind her. He slipped while trying to grab her by her feet, and she- to protect herself, inadvertently, used a stool to hit him. He fell to the ground- a few more hits and he stopped moving.

She held herself when she realized his sudden stillness and slowly crawled up to him. She roared in a piercing cry when she felt no pulse and heard no heartbeat- he was reduced to only a body with no soul.

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  1. A narration hitting right in the soul on a woman disrespected and humiliated like in many household. Gut wrenching tale and the end is what is called poetic justice. Superbly written.

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