HOW SHE DIED

Her gaze lingered on the back of his shirt as he strolled to the door. Her hands grabbed the sofa seat desperately. She knew he was going to see that woman, even though he lied that he was going to see his friends. She knew because of the way he took more time preening in front of the mirror. She felt a pang of dizziness as he banged the door, and she imagined what he was going to do with that woman. The thought of it made her cringe. She tried to wipe it off her mind, but the image of his mouth sucking on another woman's nipples stared at her.
A text came into her phone 'Don't wait up for me, I'll be late'.
A reconfirmation of the evil he was going to commit.

His arrogance, his domineering nature was what attracted her to him in the first place. That he could make up for her weakness was the magnet that pulled her towards him. Now, that grip he had on her felt more painful than ever. It made her feel worn out.

She walked painfully to the bedroom, and stood in front of the mirror. Her hair was a mess. She ran her hand through it. The bones on her neck popped out. She was growing thinner and thinner by the day. She knew it was the drugs. She went under her brown animal skin duvet, and cuddled her pillow. She was going to sleep alone again. The pillow soaked the tears that pumped out from her big brown eyes. She slept, and dreamt of an old bearded man trying to choke her.
                             * * * * * * *

She stared at the cold eba on the dinning table. She stared at the wall clock that hung near the television stand. She stared at the door. Then her vision became clouded with tears. She lay down on the sofa, and kept staring at the door till sleep came. The old bearded man appeared, and once again tried to choke her to death, and once again she was sleeping alone, and her husband was with another woman.
                             * * * * * * *

He knotted his tie, and wore his suit jacket.

'Baby' he called 'am ready to go'.

She stood up from the chair, and walked to meet him.

'Take your medications alright, and don't wait up for me I might be in a late meeting today'.

She nodded numbly. The way he lied, with ease and charm. He pressed a kiss on her cheek, as he grabbed his suit case, and headed to the door.

'Sweetheart heart get me the keys, the door is locked' he said, turning the door knob.

'Ok' she took slow steps to kitchen.

She came back to the sitting room, with the keys on her left hands, and a big gun and rope on her other hand.

'What the fuck are you doing with a gun' he screamed.

She pointed it at him.

'Be calm, I have got enough bullets to blow off your brains. Just do as I say'.

'Eleanor, calm down and put the gun down. Shit! For chriss sake, that stuff is dangerous shit'.

'I am the one with the gun, and I am the one giving the orders. And, I swear with what is left of my womb David, I would blow off your brains and damn the consequences.'

He was sweating all over. His expressions changed sharply; anger, sadness.

'Sit down' she told him pointing at the chair on the dining, with her gun.

'Eleanor you need to take your drugs. Goodness! I have been too busy to look after you. I am sorry'.
He was trying to charm her, to deceive her.

'Just shut up and sit down'. She said in a low voice. She felt weak from her head to her toe. She always felt weak.

He sat down on the chair.

'Don't move' she said, as she walked close to him and stuck the syringe in his arm. He gave a piercing sound, then she watched as he batted his eyelids. He was losing consciousness as she was just gaining hers.
                         * * * * * * *

He woke up. He tried to move his arms but they were stuck.

'No need to struggle' she said.

She was sitting directly in front of him, waving the gun in his face.

'Why are you doing this' he asked, almost choking on his words.

'Because I want to spend time with you' she replied.

'This is no way to spend time with me. Tieing me up, and waving a gun in my face'. He queried.

'I tried to get your attention but you were to busy with the other woman'

'Baby, there is no other woman'

'Shut up'. She screamed.

The lie infuriated her. Such a bastard. She wanted to dive a knife into his eyeball. She picked up one of the knifes she had lain beside her.

'I'd chop your fingers David if you don't tell me her name.

'There is no woman. I swear'. He was lying again.

Anger gripped her. She walked to his back, where his hands stuck out of the rope. She held out his index finger and started cutting.

'Fuck. Shit. Bloody Joe.' He screamed. 'Stop. Her name is Amaka. Just stop please'. He was crying loud.

She stopped, and watched as his blood dripped to the floor. It gave her sinister satisfaction.

'Ok'. She walked back to her sit.

'You deserve every bad thing I can think of doing to you.' Tears rolled down her eyes. The cold was getting the most of her. The pain was eating into her. Cancer was eating up every part of her.

'I am dying. You know I am dying and you throw it in my face. You know I have just few days to live. Yet you can't even wait for me to die before you start cassanoving.' She coughs. A wave of dizziness hits her. She gulps water from a can.

'I am sorry babe'

'What exactly are you sorry about? You have an ice cold heart David. You are so heartless you deserve to die. Don't call me babe again'.

She was shaking, everywhere felt cold. In the past month, her sickness had really kicked in. The sickness that would claim her life. She looked at him, and tears filled her eyes because she had wasted her life loving him. Loving a man that hated her so much he couldn't wait for her to die. Everything in her life, had to be different. Why did she keep loving people that wanted nothing to do with her; her husband, her father, her mother.

Now, she was going to die alone. With no one to hold her hands, and stroke her hair.
She stood up from the chair, and walked out of the sitting room. She locked the door behind her, and took slow and painful steps up to her room. She lay down, and covered herself with a duvet. Shutting his screams that pierced through her walls. At least when she dies, on her bed, he would be in the same house with her, thinking about her. No more drugs to stop the illness from taking her life. She had decided to die. There was no use waiting for a few days or weeks. Nobody wanted her. There was nobody to live for. She was ready to leave forever.