CONFESSION NIGHT; Mr Helper
Mr helper, is the worst thing that has happened to me. I call him Mr helper because that was the name I used to save his number when he first approached me. He had told me about a very lucrative job with an amazing salary, which he wanted to connect me to. The gullible me inside swallowed his lies and I hurriedly rushed to my parents to ask for their consent.
Unfortunately, they didn’t consent to it, giving me a long lecture about material things and stuffs like that. I was not bothered however, I didn’t need their consent. My plan of action was already laid out in my head.
“First thing tommorow morning, I’m going to call that man and keep on reminding him so he doesn’t give the job to another person,” I said to myself. “My parents are evil, they want me to die young,” I added, being convinced of the fact that the job was to be legit.
The next morning, I waited until my parents went out for work. After they were out, I dressed up and and went out in search of the address Mr helper had given me, occasionally calling him on the phone to remind him of my visit.
I got to the compound and was greeted by the sight of four men drinking and smoking, Mr helper was one of them. They sat me down and I sat there uncomfortably because of the weird stares I was getting.
Drinks kept coming my way and I turned them down. The seconds rolled into minutes and as time went on, the worry inside me built on.
“Sir,” I tapped him lightly on the shoulder, “What about the job offer?” He laughed a little, then invited me inside the house, saying that outside would be noisy and uncomfortable due to the other men still drinking.
“I want to help you, I really do,” he said, “However, you have to help me too.”
His lips curved up in a smile and he invited me over to him room for a private discussion. Immediately I entered the room, he closed the door and began to advance towards me. “If you truly need this job, you’ll do whatever I say.”
“What do you want me to do?” I asked, backing away because the proximity of our bodies was getting uncomfortable.
“You’re going to sleep with me?”
“No! Absolutely no!” I said stomping my feet and scrunching up my face in disgust. “Fornication is a sin and moreover, I’m a virgin. I won’t break that for you or anyo else for that matter.
For a moment, Mr helper’s face bore a confused look, then it was wiped off and a smirk replaced it. “You don’t really have a choice in this matter, do you?”
My eyes widened when I understood what he implied. He pounced on me immediately, throwing me on the bed, ravaging my boobs with his hands. Somehow, his bulging groin came close to my knee and I swung out with it, striking him in the balls. He gave out a yell and released my boobs, using them to cover his groin. I took that opportunity and leaped out of the bed, running out of the room.
With all the strength I could muster, I tried to run out of the house. Fiddling with the big metal gate, I didn’t know when a heavy slap landed on my cheek. I was kicked to the floor and dragged by Mr helper’s back into his room, where he lay waiting for me. Amidst scream and cries, the son watched as father raped me.
When I got home, I cried the more. Having been laden with multiple threats against my life and that of my parents, I never spoke a word to anyone regarding that incident.
Seven years later, with both father and mother dead, I was out to find love. I found the perfect man and pressurized him into meeting his parents. I devoted time to getting close to his parents, learning everything about them, trying to be the perfect daughter in their eyes.
Content with my progress so far, I visited my father in law in his office. With a smug look on my face, I looked him dead in the eye and told him, “You’re going to die today.”
He laughed at me and answered, “I know this is a joke, but stop it, I won’t die today.”
I leaned my head forward to him, donned a wicked smirk and said, “You don’t really have a choice in this matter, do you?”
I can never forget the look of terror on his face when he realized that I was the girl he raped seven years ago. He didn’t even have time to do anything, in a split second, I had stood up and sent the pointed head of my heel flying towards his face.
He fell on the ground panting heavily and I wasted no time. I was on him, driving my knife into his body. I sat on his body for a while, watching how the warm blood ran out of his lifeless body, before I decided to call and invite his son.
Immediately his son, my fiance entered the office I hurled out my knife at him. “Remember this,” I said, then slapped him heavily on the cheeks. I then pulled out the knife and drove it into his chest twice. He fell down dead in a pool of blood, beside his father.
Quickly, I scribbled down a note on a paper, before using using the knife to cut through the veins in my hand. I headed towards the big wooden table and lay down, with my blood dripping on the floor, waiting for death, and the last thing I saw before my vision blurred out was the note that I had carefully placed on the floor next to me, “I did it.”