As I lay in the bathtub, soaping and scrubbing every visible part of my body harder than I would on a day I had less adrenaline running through my veins. Soaked in the tepid water reeking of the orange flavoured shampoo used in washing what now looks like the ghost of what my hair used to be, a wild grin crept onto my cheeks.

I have been here for hours now, not like I still have a grip on time anymore so I really don’t know if I have spent longer in the bath than a normal human should. Wait a minute! Did I just say normal? Humour me, but I’m a couple of miles behind ‘normal’; whatever that is anyways.

Each time I feel this urge to get off and give a shot at undoing that which would take more than a few bottles of Hennessey to get me to spit, a greater surge of power pulls me back down, whispering fiercely yet seductively that it’s not yet time. Then coercing my hands making the scrub a bit fiercer and tainted with a tinge of pain and regret because each harsh movement over my dark skin, shiny under the dim light is made in a way that mimics a deed done in order to atone for atrocities.

I should have called the police or an ambulance, perhaps my nurse friend would have saved his life-or maybe not. What really frightened me was my fear of the cold metal hanging right across my wrists and being put away to rot behind those strong bars, with the tasteless and burnt meals to complement the misery, the horror of waking up one day with what is left of my hair chopped off by the one I would refer to as my roommate or is it prison mate ?

Though I had so many times wished him dead, I never really let myself imagine what it would be like to live with him off earth and in fear of police cars parked right across my lawn, with the blaring of sirens cutting sharply through the air.

Though the abuse was killing and I couldn’t see a way out, I still never saw myself shutting him out in a way, permanently . I loved him, made him my breath, esteemed him than I ever did any man, and that was why even when the bruises and black eyes were noticed and caused questions to be raised, I quickly smile and cook up lies to protect him and keep whatever it is we had from being disconnected from the breathing tube.
“Oh, don’t mind me, I wasn’t watching my way last night, so I fell into a ditch, blame my heels”
“Ahh, it was the old car. It hit a pole on the drive back home” those were the common ones, at least those i remember.

And now as his body lay rigid in the pit dug below the workshop, I prepare myself for life ahead and wiped every remnant memory off so I wouldn’t wish for the past life, the one he designed for me. I prepare myself towards a sole life, towards a life of freedom, a life void of the intense beatings, the sudden slaps, the too often arguments over even stupid and mundane things, the late night cries with my belly hurting and my head aching, the intense massage sometimes more of a punishment than relief, his unexpected kisses, the flower delivery the morning after every night of fight, the good sex, I prepare myself towards widowhood.


So, my first post in this year, you like it ? I want to know what you guys think. Please don’t go without dropping your comments, they keep me going.
Oh, by the way HAPPY NEW YEAR TO MY READERS!!!!!!




  1. jummy

    Nice one sis..

    • Thanks so much Jummy

  2. Drogzy

    Nice thou, need to talk to you on it

    • Thanks for stopping by Drogzy. need to talk to me?…. Oh Okay…..

  3. sarah

    are u kidding me??? this is more than OK!!…. am so impressed ….. keep it up sweety …. the sky is Ur starting point…. 🙂

  4. sarah

    are u kidding me??? this is more than OK!!…. am so impressed ….. keep it up sweety …. the sky is Ur starting point…. 🙂 #thumpsup

    • Sarah, lol thanks hunnie :*

  5. WaTer&SaNd

    COMPETENTLY WRITTEN….. More added to these, let’s say 20,000 words more(a novel), if in every hands will torchlight with an enormous intensity the battering of women by their lords ,,, this could lead to the rise of NGO’s erected to fight for women being awkwardly tutored in holes of their room. I mean lots of libration could evolve from this…nevertheless the concluding vicious step of the protagonist is almost something not to brag about as she has formerly subjected herself to die by the Love’s hammer, however not all resolve end without a bloodstain on the dove’s palm……kudos…nice story, nice expression, nice picture, nice Nimisire (laughs)………..

  6. Wow. I love this.

    • well, I am glad you do

  7. Great story. Flawless ending. You keep getting better.

    • Thanks so much Joey, nice of you to stop by 😉

  8. my boss, I’m quite flattered. thank you so much

  9. mezzyadamz

    Great one here Nimi. Greater grace I pray.

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Crumble Cult

By Tony Single

Chronicles of Hebron

Beyond the shores of Kings to the realm of Gods.




A place where books and imaginations spring into life

Rationalising The Universe

one post at a time

unbolt me

the literary asylum

Adeosun Adams

....a virtual extension of my mind.

Reject Reality

The world as I see it, according to myself.


A daily selection of the best content published on WordPress, collected for you by humans who love to read.



Farafina Books

Telling Our Own Stories...


insight to know


The literary art of living

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