A memo from jail

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic


A tale of Love, deceit, and pain.

Submitted: May 26, 2018

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Submitted: May 26, 2018

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A Memo from jail The words of the elders they say are indeed the words of wisdom. This proverb is like an arrow pierced in my heart as it reminds me about the gory details of my life. It all started during my undergraduate days at the prestigious University of Lagos, Akoka. On receiving my admission letter, with so much excitement and hope, I vowed to be dedicated to my studies in other to graduate with a First-class honor, hmm. I said to myself before leaving for school. As fate would have it, on arriving to the campus, I met this tall, dark, and handsome young man. I could not help but notice him. Wow! ‘’He could pass for a fashion model’’ He walked up towards to my direction, I shivered, He noticed me? I turned away Immediately, as he approached Hi! he said and introduced himself. My name is John Cole. He sounded so Confident. Days after we were still in contact. I tried to remind myself of myself of my promise to stay focused on campus, He was a guy which every girl on campus wanted and it took me no time to accept his proposal, in return, I was pleased to have him has my prince charming. Weekends were never dull with John, as we were cruising around from our resort centre to another, we were always found in the company of each other. ‘Lover birds’ we were fondly called. Our relationship waxed stronger until our final year in school. John Proposed to me on a dinner date, I accepted since I could hardly wait to become ‘’Mrs John Cole’’. And that was my dream. Towards the end of the Semester, I decided to visit my folks and blow the trumpets of being engaged, ‘’the dream of every young girl’’ my parent enquired about my fiancé in excitement where is he? Where is he from? Who are is people? which I answered happily. My father was so unhappy with the choice of partner, ‘’Muslim’’ he objected! ‘’You are from a devoted Christian home’’ he reminded me again. He requested that all ties been cut off, this is certainly a hard nut to crack, where do I start from? this question lingered in my head for days. Keeping to myself was my only solitude, I soon became a shadow of my own self. We decided to abscond to the United State of America. This sure sounded like the best solution, we thought. No later after our final papers, we left leaving all behind. Alas! I was going to be Mrs John Cole. Barely after a few months, things changed drastically. John stopped being the loving and caring Husband he into a night crawler, a wife beater and egocentric being. This is not my John. I said to myself The Beatings were getting more frequent each day, even my colleagues at work could not help but notice the scars.’’ I fell ‘’ hmm! usual excuses I gave, when asked. Who do I talk to about this? I asked myself. I decided to defend myself ‘’ fight back. Oh yes! That’s all I could think of. As usual, John returned home from his regular hangouts, he tried to rape me. This certainly as got to stopped! I cried out. I grabbed a gun from one of the drawers, maybe to threaten him. During the struggle the bullet went off, All I could remember was his body laying on the floor in a pool of his own blood. What I’ve I done? I asked myself repeatedly. ‘‘I could not have killed my own husband?’’ 911.. I dialled quickly. Calling the Police is all I could think of. In no time the house was filled with police man, Journalists taking pictures of the scene. Did you shoot him? Did he rape you? Were you trying to defend yourself? These were questions I was hearing but had no answers to. My head went blank from the event. I was taken away by the policemen and given a public attorney as my Defendant. My world was crushing under in my face, I cried out. After series of court sessions, I was charged with Homicide. ‘’ 25 years ‘’the Judge said. ‘’I sentence you to 25 years in Prison’’ You will be transferred to Millennium Prison to serve your term. I cried out Bitterly, only then did I remember my father’s advice. This memo was written from the Millennium Prison with pains in my heart.


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