A million thought running through my mind down to my spine in split seconds. At the door I stand gazing at the murder of my hands. My hands shiver like that of a child rescued from the ice. There is no lies, behold the streaming blood gushing down to my feet as I felt drown in the Whirlpool of blood. I have taken the life of another. Every second that passes by, bring me an unbearable nightmare, every second pulling the trigger of my haunt. It is my first murder and never my last. I am proud of my actions because I have killed the beast, the caterpillar that tries to destroy the butterfly of my home. 
My sour tale begins, my stale tale of mix feelings. I and Lora my wife had a little argument the last time. My job had stolen me away from her so she said. That night she was very bitter. “I need my man back, Obinna! You never told me I’ll lose you to your job. I need my man!”. She screams the roof down with her roaring voice, sounding like the destructive thunder of Amadioha. Suddenly, she breaks into shreds in her spilling emotions. I saw the Atlantic flushing down her eyes with passionate cry of travail like that of Christ on mount Gethsemane. I couldn’t withstand the burning fire of her love, so I muttered, “I am very sorry baby”, “don’t you baby me! You have completely gone out of my grip. What kind of a man are you? A man that think less or nothing about his family and utmost responsibility”. She yells. “Things have really gone bad and crazy for me at work.” I struggle to mutter these words, and like a leopard lying in wait to pounce, I saw her crawling up from the ocean of her tears, flames in her eyes burning with blood. She whispers “when was the last we talked? When was the last time we walked? When was the last time we fought with pillows after a deep emotional thought? When will you ever return home with a kiss because all I do is only to sit here everyday, hopelessly with a hiss”.
I quickly held her hands, the moist on her skin feels like burning flames from the furnace of Babylon. The embrace from me was like “Junor” calming her bitter panting soul. My hands moves from it’s prime position to her upper legs, crawling towards her neck like a lovely insect. The caressing on her neck produces the moan of everlasting pleasure. I breath into her ear fibre, behold her melting like wax before fire. Our lips gradually calling on each other, sealing with a stamp from our salivating thirst for powerful emotions. She begins to sink into death on the sofa, my blood is heated, boiling above the degree of heat. Below me was a cock without feathers ready to fly and get drown into the well of salvation.

Suddenly she whispers; “I am on red”. This is a language we use when she’s unsafe, especially her menstruation period. This whisper broke the hard fibre of my ears as my ear drums beats faster than my pumping heart. With a standing head of state, and like the static statute I was stunted in awe. She remorsefully mutters, “I am sorry”. I quickly waved over it and left her. I really needed that moment of extreme pleasure interpersed with romantic pain. I swiftly delve into the bathroom to cool off and take a cool shower, maybe help myself with that which never moans but ignite and excite pleasure.
I had lost my job months ago. The courage to spill this out to Lara eats me up to my spine. “I can’t tell her I’m jobless, she won’t regard me, she won’t see me as head over her. I’m gradually losing the man I am.” These thoughts made me a watchdog all night counting every ceiling with torch eyes. The right words and sentence fail me to communicate this outrageous calamity to her. “This is not pride” I said to myself, “even if it is, all men do have pride at some point in their lives”. “I am a proud man” I said, “I rather die standing on my feet than to live crawling on my knees”

The next day becomes worse, the nightmare caterwauling around me. “How can a man be responsible when his pocket is irresponsible”. I said this bitterly to myself, “no money for rent, school fees for the children, no money to avoid basic necessities”. I left for job haunting, filled with depression and emotional torment. I walked through the streets like a scavenger. Anything was worth doing even disposing of trash from houses was an option. Yet nothing was available, then I realized the state of decadence and unemployment in the country. Despite my qualifications and desperations, nothing was forth coming that day. The sun is running fast towards setting. “I can’t return to that house like this! Oh, her house now I guess. She pays the rent and fees”.

These thoughts always increases the temperature of my torment. With these thoughts clouding my head and blurring my vision, I badged into another angry lion, perhaps my kind.

“Can’t you see, are you blind? Stupid man! Is this how you walk around badging on people, idiot?”. “I’m sorry” was all I could say before I received a push on my chest as he roared the more. “Sorry my ass, you dumb skull. Will your sorry pay for these c.v and other documents in this dirty water?”. Then I realized the gravity of my offense, I understand his venting and raging. I quickly rushed to the documents in the dirty water to pick them up with a little “I’m sorry”. Immediately I received a rhino push off the documents as he rains stony words of insults and abuses on me. “You good for nothing man, a woman wrapper. You’re better off dead than alive. It is people like you that allow their wives do everything for them”. My eyes popped out, “how did he know that?”. This echoed in my head as I stood up swiftly from the murky ground, I was heading straight home to a confrontation, if my wife has been cheating on me. Because there is no way a total stranger could have such information about me. Just as I make pass him, I received a thunder bolt slap. The stars of the night appeared immediately, I could feel a natural tattoo encrypted on my face transforming into a tribal mark. Immediately my eyes were full that any blink would have flooded the entire scene. So I held my face pointing to the ground in severe groaning. “That hurts right, next time you learn to be careful with people’s property. I know after now you’ll run to your wife for help”. He laughs hysterically to the hearings of the world and that was it. In split seconds, he’s already on the ground in a state of comatose, with broken face as blood keeps gushing from every part of his face.

“You have killed him, here is our murderer, get him, kill him”,. “Kill him! Kill him!! Kill him!!!” became the song of the angry mob. The thunderous chants and running echoes of these bruts propelled my acceleration. With time I was out of sight and out of reach. Although minor injuries and a deep cut by my rib as a result of the destructive weapons and instruments thrown at me. It was just a kilometer to the house, and I’m already feeling dead because I had lost too much blood from the deep cut. I summoned courage to go inside, at least before she will return I must have been dead to end all my torments and trauma. As I entered the gate, the look from my eyes couldn’t allow the gate man utter a word. As I move close to the apartment, I feel more weak and death creeping inside of me. Close to the door, the sound of the shower tried to open my eyes as I opened the door to the room, behold I saw him lying on my bed. The same bed I gave specific instructions during it’s construction. Another man lying on my bed, the very bed I have produced three? The words of the stranger I badged into earlier keeps ringing in my head. “How stupid is he, I mean how stupid are they that they think this was the best place for him?” This thought was very strong. “This is the height of this pain and insult” I said to myself. I could no longer feel the pain of my cut but the trauma in my head. I quickly reach for my defense knife which I alone knows where it is. Straight I headed to his chest, with rage mix with joy I emptied my venom with several stabs into his chest and around it’s environs. With the little strength, I headed in search of her who has defiled my bed.

 Just as I got to the dinning, I saw her, my thirst for her blood became passionate, I pant like a thirsty bear. I could see the fear in her eyes mix with contemplation. “Baby, what happened, why are you covered with blood and you’re bleeding? I struck the first attempt, she swiftly dodge it as I make way to the ground. I remembered she had learnt this during my defense tutorial with her. I had taught her how to protect herself in the face of evil before calling for help. I guess she learnt well and now she used my skills against me. “You want to kill me, why? What have I done to you. Is this the thank you I’ll get for having your back”. These words heated the fury in me the more as I struggle to get up still holding my murder knife. I used the dinning table as a brace to assist myself. Confused as she was, she screams, “mama! Mama!” as she attempts to run out. Just then I glace to see my running Mother. “Obinna, what is the problem. You’re covered with blood and yet you chase your wife with a knife stained with blood.”

I was transfixed by my mother’s appearance. “Mama, what are you doing here, you never told me you were coming” I mutter with my head down cast. I still struggle to look at Lora, my wife with rage, I could see the fright in her eyes as she stirs at my bloody eyes. “ehm, your wife has been calling us that you’re behaving strange..” “she is not my wife but a cheap prostitute” I interrupted. “Don’t you ever use such words again! She is your legal married wife”, she enforced and continued her narrative. “I never believed her all these while, because I know my son. But her calls especially yesterday was too much so we decided to come. And looking at you now, I believe her. What is happening, hm Obim?” That name always break me, immediately tears are dropping from mama eyes. “You said we, who are the we”. I enquired. “He fell I’ll just as we arrive the park. So your wife decided to make food so he could eat before we take him to the hospital. She was coming to set the dinning before I heard her shouting.” “You haven’t answered my question Mama, you came with who? Because papa had traveled to the village for Okpara’s (first sons) meeting.” I shoot back at her. He decided to come with me to talk to you man-to-man since the meeting was cancelled. Because of the emergency of his health we covered him up in you room.”

This information breaks every bone in me, knowing what only I have done. I couldn’t see them anymore just the scene of my murder plays in head. I heard a loud silence in the entire neighborhood, I remember the last murder in that room, it was an armed robber I had kill for trying to sleep with my wife. Now what have I done. I have killed my own father. The scream of my wife echoes from the room. She has seen the bleeding corpse of my father. I kill my own father on my own bed. With real hot tears dropping I mutter, “I have killed papa, mama I have killed papa”. She could not hear what I said. It sounded strange to her, she screams to the room. In less second, I heard her roaring screams breaking every pillar of the house. Blood still gushing out of me, the trauma I wanted to end has multiplied. “Can I live ever again in this world and find peace?”.

Then I remembered the saying “peace can only be attained in the grave”, just then Lora and Mama came out from the room towards the dinning. I couldn’t withstand the guilt in my heart and the pain in their hearts. I thrust the knife into me, but death was far. As they ran towards me, I thrust the knife, slitting my throat. I believe l left them in the torments of my hands. I guess I’m a wandering spirit recounting how I died!! With these tears right now, I believe spirits do cry.

“To be continued”

By penhouse

Jaja Godspower is a creative thinker and business strategist. He an award winning writer, blogger, author and a film maker from Nigeria. He is motivated with the desire to grow brands and businesses through adequate branding and visibility with his writing expertise. He is the founder of Penhouse Initiative, one of the largest growing writing hub in Africa.

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