The Six Years Plan
Keywords: The Six Years Plan, Free Short Stories, Revenge, Action, Fabling, Pam
I could feel his life slowly slipping out of my hands. This was what I wanted, so why did I feel numb? I had been chasing Ade for the last six years, six years of boiling rage, six years of planning, and now it was all over.
I let his dead body drop from my hands, then set the scene to look like a suicide, just like I had planned. I tightened a rope around his neck and then stretched it through the ceiling fan. I placed the butt of a lit cigarette in his mouth, took it out, then pressed it down on his table. I forced some alcohol down his throat, too. There would be no suicide notes, none; he did not deserve an understandable death.
A miserable man kills himself after drinking. That would be the headline. I took one more look around to make sure that I left no evidence of myself behind. There shouldn’t be any evidence of me; I was dead. I had been dead for six years. Ade killed me, buried me, and my parents mourned me, the girl who died in a gas leak. That was the headline ‘Beautiful girl dies in gas fire.’
I felt numb. I was supposed to feel different, better. Ade was my boyfriend, but he was too possessive. He got jealous; he threatened to hurt me, but he never did. He was always breathing down my neck, suspicious of my every move. It was tiring, so I got out. I ended things. I moved on and got a new boyfriend. I left him.
Ade begged me to take him back. He stalked me. I thought he would eventually get over me, so I ignored him, but then he came to my house. He came with a gun, he shot my boyfriend, he shot me, and then he set the place on fire. But I survived. I survived, and I came back for him. He had moved on; he killed me and moved on like I never existed. He was living well. It was vexing. So I set a plan, let my existence be completely erased, then I came back, I drugged him, then I strangled him.
I am Titilope Ajao, I am the Beautiful girl who died six years ago in that fire incident, and you can arrest me now.
The End.
Want a little existential crisis? Try What’s The Use?
