For Worse Or Worse Pt. 3


Before I continue, I would like to say a big thank you to everyone that has subscribed, left a comment or visited my blog. I appreciate the love. Now, to the concluding part of Tola and Sam’s story…

…And there was so much blood.
But he wasn’t dead. Although, the sight that greeted Samantha made her wish he was… cause he was holding a gun. And it was pointed straight at her heart. Sam started thinking really fast. She had to get that gun out of his hands! She saw the empty bottle of gin. Not a good sign.
“Tola, why don’t you put the gun down and let’s talk. You’ve been drinking and you’re not thinking properly right now,” Sam said with a calm she didn’t feel.
Tola’s short laugh made her cringe. This was not going to end well. Samantha started down the stairs.
“Stop.” Tola’s command was quiet but in his voice was a chill that could freeze hell. Samantha stopped cold. Then she continued down the stairs.
“Tola, please, don’t be sil-,” but the searing pain that shot through her left shoulder interrupted her. He shot her. He shot her!
And then she knew he wasn’t joking. Her husband was holding a gun and he had just shot her. The pain made her woozy. She fought through a haze of unconsciousness as she struggled to keep standing. Balance was hard.
She took another step down, this time she knew it wasn’t her doing; she was falling. She landed very hard on her wounded shoulder. Another wave of pain coursed all through her arm making her break out in sweat. She looked at the wound. My nice grey suit.
Haha! I’m about to die and my first concern is my suit. She wondered why her life didn’t flash before her eyes. Wasn’t that supposed to happen? Maybe it was a good sign; she wasn’t dying. Or perhaps, she was already dead?

Tola saw her as she fell down the stairs and knew he would kill this woman. Tonight. His alcohol-filled brain muddled all his thought processes. Well, almost all. Somewhere, within the deep shadows of reason, Tola could hear a tiny voice – conscience, perhaps?- telling him he was about to make the greatest mistake of his life. He walked towards her.

Sam opened her eyes. And there he was. Towering right over her. She reached out to him…

The shot rang out clearly in the silence of the night. But Adamu, the night watchman didn’t hear a thing. He swatted a fly on his cheek and continued sleeping even though tomorrow, he planned to ask for a salary raise for “keeping watch”. Mr. Asika next door woke up, but he quickly made a sign of the cross on his chest and went back to sleep hoping whoever’s house was being robbed this night, it wouldn’t be his.

Everything was bright. As she bled out freely, she realized she was probably going to die right here. On this floor. Beside the only man she had ever loved. And the one man she would forever hate. How ridiculous that she would die of a shoulder wound. And, then, it came. The slow welcoming bright lights. It was exactly how she had pictured it. Except for the life flashing before your eyes part. Too bad. She would have loved to see how that happened. Samantha took her last breath and smiled happily as her angels – and demons – welcomed her into the cold clutches of the afterlife.
There was so much blood. And it was his. As Samantha had reached out to him, she had taken the gun and shot him straight in the gut. As he lay down on the floor, beside his wife. he understood his mistake. The voice in his head hadn’t said he was making the greatest mistake. It said he was making the last mistake of his life. Anyway, it was a mistake to think he would live while Samantha was dead. They were soul mates. Partners. They survived, thrived of each other.
Plus, he was a man of his word. For better or worse. Or worse. Or worse. And then he was with her. In a place where the violence, or hate, or loathing would cease to exist.

For better.

Notes: this story was supposed to highlight how men are also victims of domestic violence. But somehow, it took on a life of its own. Not sure what the moral is now. However, I enjoyed writing it, so, I hope you enjoy reading it. Don’t forget to subscribe. šŸ™‚

P.S. I found a signature that I think is really cool. It’s from one of the most culturally significant stories of all time: “Boyz N The Hood”:

Increase the peace.

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9 thoughts on “For Worse Or Worse Pt. 3

  1. NiiicE, I really like the ending. Not so “happily ever after” but the “for worse, or worse” part ended in “better” Keep ’em coming Esse, “Increase The Peace” šŸ˜€

  2. Beautifully written babes. though I didn’t get to read the earlier part, this conclusion got my attention. Bigups to you. I’m definitely gonna subscribe now.

  3. don’t u have homework?? lol… d story was nice sha.. keep it up! (not at d expense of ur homework tho) šŸ˜€

  4. WOW. A finish with finesse. Nicely done, Miss Lady. Super Impressed. Btw, stroeis have this uncanny habit of taking on lives of their own after a while. Its what happens with TV shows – sometimes the episodes write themselves. Nicely done. And I must say, I didn’t see the last paragraph coming! Well, for better now…
    Btw, LOL @ Angels & demons!

  5. They died together….Tola was still a weist till the end! Should have clubbed her with the butt of the gun then place the gun to her head and, BAM! BAM!…ok i’m not as violent as i sound right now…who am i kidding -_- Good story!!

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