Chapter 34 Chapter 34 TITS & BITS

EBERE

Fine boys are my weakness.

I mean that literally.

So when my eyes settled on a chocolate - complexioned hunk, I became an inanimate object -- I turned into stone.

When I first set eyes on him, I knew he was wayyyyy out of my league.

He was the very definition of a hunk -- a good looking fuck boy.

--- scratch that ---

He was the best looking fuck boy I'd set my eyes on -- ever.

But that didn't stop me --- it should have.

My sister would have been alive today.

But I think I need to backtrack a bit. . .

. . . you know, give you some background information so you understand where I'm coming from and how I got to the position of being engaged to two men at the same time.

The actual love of my life and the other man.

The only best place to start is from the beginning.

I've been best friends with my ride or die chick -- Eve, for as long as I can remember. Heck, our mothers were best friends before my mother kicked the bucket.

Eve has always been an annoying brat, and I mean that lovingly.

She's something of an ajebutter, but even if this chapter isn't about her, she's a big part of my life, always has been, so it would be remiss of me not to talk about her.

We attended the same schools, even the same university, going as far as the north --- Bayero university, Kano, to escape the eyes of our parents so we could be free to do and undo, and boy did we do.

We got up to lots of mischief, so much that we became the most popular girls on campus.

And by mischief, nothing too crazy. I mean we always set the latest trend by the crazy clothes we wore, and how snobbish we acted.

We were invited to every happening party on and off campus and we made sure to pick and choose only the best to attend.

You know that unwritten law that states that the more popular you are, the less brainy you become?

That didn't apply to us in anyway, because the more popular we became, the more effort we put into our studies.

We aced all our exams, with Eve always missing the first class grade point aggregate by just two points. I think she actually did that on purpose, deliberately mixing up two answers in her PR exam, because she didn't want to be called an Efiko.

Apparently, being called that was uncool and very nerdy.

Unfortunately, popularity attracts both the good and the wrong kind of people and I'd always been a magnet for bad guys. Don't ask me why.

Eve and I got invited to a club party off campus. We didn't initially want to go, but when we were told it was hosted by one of the senator's sons who was rumored to always throw great parties, we decided to.

Plus you can't actually say no when the guy sends two embossed IV cards with champagne and chocolates.

He even sent a car to pick us up.

Who were we to say no?

As we stepped through the wide oak doors of the club where the party was taking place, all eyes zoned in on us, but one person in particular took an interest in me, and I in him.

I was on his radar like a willing target.

Leaning against a pillar, a lit cigarette dangling from his smirking lips, hooded eyes watching me acutely, I was a goner the moment he began strolling towards me.

I couldn't help the shiver that shimmied down my back, but not in fear, no --- desire.

Whether it was the timbre of his voice, the caliber of his person, or the way he looked at me, Azubuike was . . . whew!!!

He was a tall, lean mean machine. Not overtly muscular, but not packed either.

He was just . . . perfect!

So when he stopped right in front of me, smirk and all, I wet my pants . . . and not from pee.

And that . . . was literally the beginning of the end for me, and I mean that in every ramification of the word.

You see, Zubi, as I fondly called him was in a dangerous cult and he thrived on danger. It was what got him high.

Everything crazy, Zubi tried.

Whether there were repercussions or not, he didn't care. Matter of fact, he was happy if he got caught.

From slapping guys that so much as glanced at me, to causing grievous bodily harm, just for the heck of it, Zubi did it and more.

He once sent a guy to the hospital for six months. When the guy eventually came out of his coma, he was told he would never be able to walk again because his two knee caps had been busted.

'How else would people know I did it if they don't find out,' was his everyday mantra.

Lecturers were scared of him. When they passed him in the school campus, they gave him a wide berth. This was so they wouldn't fall into his trap and get the brunt of his anger.

Instead of this to scare me away from him, it did just the opposite. It pulled me to him like metal to magnet.

To make matters worse, I was extraordinarily hooked on him.

Was it the lies he fed me or the drugs he supplied me with, I don't really know, but I couldn't go a day without him. I couldn't do anything without him, go anywhere without him, be without him. Even dressing up was something I did with his help. I had to ask him what clothes he wanted me to wear for the day.

I thought the world revolved in his eyes; the smoldering way he'd stare at me and tell me how he'd take care of me forever.

I saw my reflection in his eyes, and I thought I looked pretty.

I didn't know I was on the way down, spiralling.

I became his slave and he became my master, my personal devil.

When he saw how dependant on him I became, he began to take advantage of me, and I mean that in every way possible.

I became his cash cow.

Even when I didn't have any money, he would encourage me to sleep with other men, usually acting as my pimp.

When I feebly kicked against it, he begged me, reminding me how we were going to build castles in the air, how he'd buy me pretty things and never leave me.

Idle words from a dangerous - idle man.

I became the definition of someone I hated.

My grades spiralled and so did my relationship with Eve.

You know how predators always isolate you from other people that can help you --- well, that's exactly what he did with Eve and I, and practically every other person that deigned to come close to me.

He said Eve was jealous of me, jealous of our relationship, seeing as she didn't have any boyfriend. He said I was prettier than her.

Seriously?

Eve won Miss. Mass communication.

In the whole of her department, she won -- unknowingly. That's the kind of beauty she has. She didn't even put her name down to participate, others did.

Eve is what you'd call an aloof beauty. From a stunning face housing twin dimples, clear caramel skin that never needed any form of maintenance, to an almost non - existent stomach, down to her curvaceous hips, she is every man's dream and every woman's enemy.

And I --- I didn't even come close.

I'm short and chubby with chocolate complexioned skin. We are so different, as day is to night, but what the heck, I wore my skin with pride, still do.

I was confident wherever I went, even though Eve always got all the attention, seeming like I was playing second fiddle to her.

So Zubi played on that, making sure to chip away at the edges of my defences.

And that was how he isolated me from my best friend in school.

Eve tried talking me out of it, even threatened to tell my dad about Zubi, but it all fell on deaf ears.

I was in too deep.

Until one fateful night.

Now ladies, I'm sure you must be thinking how stupid I was to allow a man come in between my best friend and I or to even allow such extensive control over me by said man.

Well, I felt the same way too --- only this feeling came much later.

I'd stopped going for lectures altogether and so one day, Zubi went to God knows where to do God knows what, while I lay on the bed, drugged out of my head and loosing consciousness pretty fast.

Eve had rushed into the one bedroom apartment off - campus that Zubi and I shared, payed for by me, of course. She'd taken one scornful look at me, and rescued me out of the hell hole I'd put myself in. Words she later told me.

The events that followed thereafter were a bit of a blur to me.

I remember feeling pin pricks of cold piercing throughout my body as water was poured all over me. Next thing, I was spilling my guts. I spewed out everything inside me, so much that there was nothing much more to bring out.

But I didn't stop -- couldn't stop.

My body kept trying to expel the drugs I'd been feeding it for the past six months.

Expel it did --- until I began expelling bile.

And when I had almost wretched out my entire intestines, I fell into a coma -- a deep sleep, if you like.

When I woke up, everything seemed hazy, dim and dark.

All I saw were shapes that didn't materialize into recognisable forms.

As if that was not enough, the shakes began.

I shook from the cold and I shook from the fear. I shook from the lack of drugs in my system. I just couldn't stop shaking.

I clawed at whoever came close to me, cursing them to hell and back, spewing spittle so vile, I was shocked it didn't poison them on contact.

I cried. I cursed. I begged. All because my system wanted more drugs.

Obviously, I didn't get any.

So I was tied up.

And I fought against the restraints until the skin around my shoulders chapped and became sore, until I ached from the strain of struggling, until I couldn't even do that anymore.

I couldn't take myself out of the black hole I had fallen. I guess I didn't want to.

I was fed, probably by Eve, I don't know. It didn't matter, though, because I always brought it up. I just couldn't keep anything down.

Formless shapes continued to surge around me. They couldn't -- weren't able to materialize into anything meaningful, because I was far gone, or so I thought.

Words of encouragement pierced the fog that hung over and around me. They seemed meaningless to me in the face of my trauma, until . . .

One day, the gloom that preceded my vision, cleared.

And the metallic coppery taste in my mouth that always seemed to be present, left me.

And then I asked for water. I couldn't stop drinking water.

Then, I knew I'd die another day.

With the help of my sister, Eve nursed me back to health.

I had been in a drug - induced coma for two weeks, but she had coaxed me back to the land of the living, patiently and lovingly.

My clothes hung on me as if I were an aids victim in the last stage of the disease. My usually fresh chubby skin was stretched thin and taut. It had the kind of dry texture, featured only on leather --- devoid of all moisture.

One day I asked for a mirror.

I took one good look at myself and couldn't recognise the person that stared back. I had deep haunted sockets in place of my eyes. These were shaded with dark grooves beneath them. My usually plump pink lips were dry, cracked and flaky from dehydration and disuse.

All I wanted was to get back to my pre - Zubi state.

One day after a long deep sleep, I woke to a hot plate of pepper soup and a tall glass of water. Eve waited patiently for me to finish eating, something I did painstakingly slow, because I wasn't used to eating anymore. That's what hard drugs do -- they rid you of your appetite, making you crave for more drugs in your system. When you get so hooked on them, there's no going back.

I was one of the lucky one's.

While eating, I dozed off for how long I don't know, but when I came to, the spoon was still in my hand, mid way to my mouth. I looked up and saw Eve staring at me, mouth quivering and a heart rendering emotion I couldn't quite decipher, on her face.

She averted her face when she saw me staring, but not before I saw tears fall down her chin like dew drops.

Surprised at her reaction, the spoon slipped from my hands and into the soup, sprinkling it's liquid everywhere, most of it landing on my face and on what I was wearing.

With tearful eyes, Eve cleaned me up, bundled me to the bed and held me while we cried our tear ducts out.

When I woke up later that evening, she sat me down and told me it was time to man up.

Zubi needed to go down!

We concocted --- rather, Eve made up a plan so great, yet so grave, that even the most courageous of men would have feared to carry out.

Zubi had stepped on the toes of many people, you see, so this made things easier for us -- Eve, actually, because she said it would be better I stay out of it entirely so as not to rouse any suspicion on his part.

She had camped three of us; my sister inclusive, in a hotel for the better part of two months -- yes, that's how long it took me to get a little bit better, so Zubi didn't know where I had been all the while.

Fast forward to three weeks later and many sleepless nights, a plan was set in motion.

With the help of a whole department, a staged plan and certain key people involved, Azubike was arrested for the crimes of attempted murder, destruction of government property and criminal charges, including, but not limited to manslaughter, cultism, stealing, drug abuse and so many other hair - raising heinous crimes that are not worth mentioning in order not to scare you to stop reading.

I wish I had listened to him when he'd said 'just like Machiavelli, still I rise.' I wish I had the foresight to know that cultists have tentacles extending everywhere. I wish I had a crystal ball to see the future, maybe my beloved sister would have most definitely been alive till this day.

But when something bad wants to happen, best thing to do is allow it take its course, then you can undergo damage control.

Zubi got wind of his arrest hours before it happened.

Don't ask me how, because I don't know. What matters is that he decided to strike back.

I knew he wouldn't be in the house during mid day, because he always went out for a fresh supply of drugs, so I sent my sister to my place to collect my school documents. Documents I urgently needed to tender to my department. I felt since it was me he wanted, she would be safe, perchance she happened to meet him at home.

Unknowingly, an ambush was lying in wait for her when she got there.

Hardly had she gotten into the house, when she was pounced upon, beaten to an inch of her life and locked inside the flat. They then proceeded to burn everything down --- yes, including my sister.

To say I was devastated was an understatement.

I was crushed.

My soul left my body and hovered, watching events take place thereafter.

Even though Azubike was hung for his crimes, it didn't erode the bitter memories, neither did it bring my sister back from the dead.

Her body was unrecognisable, I couldn't even bear to see it. She had a closed coffin wake keep.

I couldn't continue with my studies anymore, at least not in that school.

It took me three years later and the support of Eve and her whole family, to get my life back on track.

It was a turning point for both of us -- she had seen me at my weakest and I was, and still am grateful I had her with me at the most trying point in my life.

If she hadn't come to my rescue that day when I was drugged up, I'm so positive I wouldn't have been alive today, painting the gory picture of my not - so - distant past.