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Wasted?








 “As I leave here, I'll kill myself. You can tell the big guy to never forgive me” As I knelt in the confessional, all that was in my head was death. The death of everything other thing left. My life, maybe.
“What's your name?” The priest asked, and I gave a light smile, the word of God or anything of that sort was the last thing I needed.
“Lou,” I said and slowly left the confessional room as his banters faded away from my bored ears. I have had enough of that already!

I guess I should bring you up the pace, dear reader.
Yesterday, for the first time; I looked at myself in the mirror. The girl that stared right back at me had everything to do with disbelief. I could not comprehend who I saw. Like “na me be dis?”

Being me had sucked for years.  I wanted to be someone else. Maybe like you, I'm pretty sure that'd be a great place to be. All I needed was a different body, mine was old and very rusty. Still looking in the mirror, I could not help the influx of thoughts that messed with my head. I had absolutely nothing left.

The saggy breasts well defined with stretchmarks were the first to attest to that. Closing my eyes and letting the prisoned tears flow, I could not count how many fingers had played with them. Even Pastor Lare's, mummy's long-time boyfriend, and our community pastor. Everyone respected him so who would believe me if I opened my mouth?
He didn't have to tell me to keep shut, I had to. If mum too had to hide her affair, then I had no choice.

He's late now and I pray he dines with the devil. Even though the big guy forgives, he cannot forgive Pastor Lare. Lare, asides from being a 'daddy figure', gave an extra flavor to my name 'Louisa' anytime he pronounced it. The sweet baritone was one to die for. I felt so safe with him that I gave in to whatever he has to do. But, he unlocked an innate beast that even I, could not tame. 

Then at 23, Mum had ovarian cancer and one other STI. She eventually died cos I could only afford the chicken change. We had to eat and live off from my one-night stands. 
At that time, Pastor Lare left the community unannounced and never got back. We later got the information that he passed on too. Honestly, I never felt the pain of both deaths. Both lives were useless to me. Mum had family but after her demise, I wanted to fend for myself. Any way I could.

Taking full notice of my tired breasts and looking down at the scars on my tummy. Belt scars, tattoos, and my belly button piercing. I remembered a certain abortion that almost claimed me. Letting my fingers run through the larger scar that ran from my lower back to just below the belly button, I gave a light smile. 
The night mum had beat me mercilessly because Lare came into my room first. 

Well, I should stop my boring life story here because it's full of anything but good.


I'm at a better place so do not worry about me.
I never knew just mentioning my name at the confessional made me meet the big guy.
He forgave me and told me that I can call this home.



Benecca's Tales

2021

All Rights Reserved.


Author's Note

"Wasted?" is a story about the beautiful after life.

It also teaches that we should never be victims of our circumstances.
It's never too late to pull out from an ugly situation.

Living your best life is the only way to live right❤


All characters are virtual and inspired by the song WERE by Nigerian Artiste, Teni


Photo credit: GeeTimes blog.

Comments

  1. Totally inspiring and your ability to keep your readers glued to the story is pure creativity... Keep up
    ❤️

    ReplyDelete
  2. Good read❤
    I learnt something🥳💃🏻😁
    Ugly situations are never permanent and one can pull out from it.possibly by "living the moment" and one can't change what has already happened, so don't waste your time thinking about it.
    Move on, let go, and get over it.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Aunty shaku you're doing well, just keep up the energy the sky will be your starting point
    Please please please it's like you'll start sending the link to my dm directly it's not everytime your niece have data

    ReplyDelete

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