“To love and to cherish,” I repeated after the bald man who officiated the ceremony. “Till death do us part” I echoed after him finally with a smile and with that, it was sealed. Life was good. I woke up every morning to harmonious melodies from flying creatures nested in my window and lying right next to me, was the one whom I loved and cherished. It was conjugal bliss indeed.
Then it happened, for the very first time.
“You hit me” I cried out. His eyes met my fear-filled gaze and I got the message. It was silent yet crystal clear – he felt no remorse. He opened his mouth and I cringed. I was sure there was a brewery somewhere in there. The words came rolling out, each one hitting harder than the former. “Your very presence irritates me.” he spat out and staggered off into our room. Or his. At least for tonight.
“How did we get here?” I didn’t even see it coming. I was so engulfed in the joyance of the moment that the changes came hitting like a torrent. So much had changed in such little time. Time. Time, they say, heals all wounds. This “inevitable progression into the future” with the ability to regenerate and repair broken parts, to slowly numb fast-growing pain and quiet unsettled nerves. Time, like a raging fire, can also consume and destroy. Unpredictable, stealth, and discreet with every wave of its passing. Infusing one with a disquieting enigma that is fuelled by every unfortunate unforeseen occurrence.
“I’ll talk to him tomorrow” I thought as I lay down on a couch in the living room. Still shaken, I shed more tears but boldly determined to iron things out the following day. “It’s just a phase, it’ll pass,” I thought as I drifted off into sleep.
Months rolled by and it only got worse. Over time, my makeup skills improved because I had to cover the black eyes I constantly received as a gift after every confrontation. No one knew. I couldn’t bring myself to tell anybody. Loneliness became my closest companion and I ate every meal with pain. I rested daily at the bosom of depression. Sorrow made me laugh. Yes! A burst of pitiful loud laughter at how low I had sunk as I danced to the tune of silence. My very own smile was a shadow.
“No more!!” My mind screamed. “I should leave.” I reasoned. An all too familiar scene replayed in my head – with a bouquet in my hands and a very bright smile on my face, I repeated after the bald man – “till death do us part.” I felt the warm teardrops roll down my cheeks. “For the chord shall remain unbroken,” said the good Lord “unless one be unfaithful.” So I stayed. Suffered in silence, and endured the pain.
He staggered in. I always try to avoid confrontations. On God, I really did. I went into the kitchen. “He hardly comes in here” I taught. But damn the devil. He did come in. Everything moved too fast after he hit me. I screamed for help but the neighbors didn’t like meddling. He kept hitting me, harder than he had ever done and soon, I was on the floor. Bleeding, struggling to catch my breath. I crawled away. Dragging myself with whatever ounce of strength left in me. I threw my hands up, in search of anything to pull me up to my feet and I felt it – a knife. I held onto it tightly and when he came closer to hit me again, I turned swiftly and without thinking, I drove the knife into his chest. I didn’t stop, I kept stabbing until he laid lifeless beneath me. I felt my legs shaking. “No it wasn’t me, I didn’t do it .” I tried to convince myself. “I can’t live with the guilt.” I had never seen so much blood. I was panicking, screaming. I stabbed myself and fell with a loud thud to the ground. I felt consciousness seep out of me as the blood flowed out. My eyes closed slowly and again I heard the bald man’s voice in my head – “till death do us part.” “And now”, I thought, “we were truly divided in death”
Written by Ajaka Oluwatobi