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6.32% Diary Of A Bad Girl. / Chapter 5: IV: Reminiscence.

Kapitel 5: IV: Reminiscence.

Was I mad at Ade for trying to rub his residence in a foreign country to my face by calling me —however the fuck, he got my number— to flaunt his immaturity and level of stupidity when I was on a fucking mission?

Hell yeah!

Was it because I still felt pained about how how he'd deceived a naive, fifteen-year old me to give up my first, even though I knew he was in a 'committed' relationship with who I'd thought to be my best friend, on a bed full of dirty laundry and bed bugs, then went behind my back to brag to his set of equally impoverished peers of how his girlfriend and himself duped me of money?

Uh, no.

Was it because he grew enough balls to threaten about release a graphic video —which he did not have— of us having sex after his stupid girlfriend recovered from a broken rib and several injuries she'd gotten as a result of me retaliating when she provoked me with her pettiness?

Not that either?

Why was I angry then?

I was angry because his call was a blatant reminder of how naive I used to be; of how pathetic and desperate I had been for attention that I had stooped as low as being a side chick to my friend's boyfriend because of the motivated manner at which he'd showered me with care.

Or how I kept falling prey repeatedly to the wicked population of men and even women, just because I'd wanted someone to listen to me when family failed me.

I should have learned when Ade and his girlfriend did shit, I should have known better than trusting anyone else, but I'd given Victor the benefit of doubt and then Prosper in quick succession; to which both hadn't ended well…

While I'd known Ade for a couple of years —as we'd attended the same school since seventh grade— before I actually gave him the scissors to do the honours of slicing off my cherry in the most unromantic way possible, I had fucked Victor on my first visit to his dingy hostel room.

On the day we'd met, I was in a hurry to get to the college's CBT facilities for my screening exam for that year's admission procedure. I'd driven all the way from Lagos to Abeokuta, I was running late for my paper, exhausted, sweaty, frustrated and I didn't know my way around the unfamiliar terrain.

Amidst all the rush, he was the only one that'd cared to pay attention to my car's slow pace and constant winding down. He'd walked up straight to the driver's seat and enquired if I'd needed help; I latched on to his offer like my life depended on it, because he was being kind, he looked hot, and I really needed his direction.

I remembered feeling grateful when he hopped into my car and directed me towards the CBT unit, I hadn't been patient enough to ask for further means of contact when, after showing me building from a distance, he alighted the low class Camry I'd been forced to make do since I had been too young to own a luxury car.

I'd only realised my mistake when I was in the middle tackling my exam questions, but I chalked it up to the fact that it wasn't meant to be and continued my task.

It was a pleasant surprise when I came out from the stress and heat of the examination hall to meet Victor standing by my car with an unopened bottle of chilled water and a dazzling smile.

I fell for him immediately, or let's say I fell for the voluntary attention he was willing to offer. That was why after I'd drank the refreshing water and thanked him profusely, I instantly agreed to his suggestion of us chilling in his room.

"Why not, you trusted me earlier by entering my car against better reasoning, I'll like to repay the favour." I'd stated in enthusiasm when asked if it was really okay.

He'd flashed me his killer smile in return and urged me to finish my water. I should have denoted the I'll intention beneath the eye service, but I was too blinded by his generous show of attention to bat an eyelid.

Victor had hung onto every word that fell off my mouth during the drive to his so-called hostel and kept smiling in a peculiar way that excited me more than I wanted to admit. By the time we finally got to his hostel, I was ready to jump on his bone and ride him to hell and that was saying a lot since I'd only had sex once, as at that time.

The last thing I remembered before waking up at a local clinic was entering the tiny room and tearing the clothes off Victor. A stern looking nurse had informed me of how a good Samaritan had brought me to their care, after they had seen me lying on the road; nude as fuck and high on meth.

They had found no belongings of mine and I was in an entirely different town from where I'd written my exams. It'd taken three days to actually remember shit and figure out that Victor had drugged the water he'd given me, thoroughly assaulted me and had carted away with all my belongings; including my designer clothes and panties, especially my only means of communicating my whereabouts to the next available member of the family.

I was just seventeen when it all happened. I never remembered what he looked like or even what he was wearing to be able to make him pay. It had taken several years of rigorous therapy to finally help me heal, that was how I'd met Becky —who was also there for a similar reason as mine— and Prosper —a sweet and shy guy with anger issues, who turned out to be my worst nightmare whatsoever.

I screeched to an abrupt halt after I flashed through the wide open gates of the Olowo's mansion. The sudden pull I'd gotten as a result of the force of the sharp usage of the brake was just what I needed to distract me from further walks down memory lane.

The disturbing memories that were beginning to engulf my senses were affecting me in ways that would leave me unstable, so I willed control over my emotions and pushed open the car door.

I wasn't even in for the drama anymore, I was just going to march into the building, demand whatever blasted lace I needed to collect and hightail out of this place before I blew up in everyone's faces.

I took another bloody deep breath before walking in through the entryway that was just as open as the gates. I didn't waste time on the pretty scenery of the huge house or stop to wonder why I hadn't encountered a single soul since I drove into the place when the place always swarmed with people.

I didn't pause to think of the reason why I was having a foreboding feeling about this particular entry into the house, I chalked the heightening pressure on my chest —like in preparation for a huge climax— to nerves and the aftermath of thinking too much about my mistakes.

That was why I hadn't seen it coming when the first person I encountered in the house was just coming out of the family's gym room, sweaty and sporting a black tank top and grey sweatpants.

He stood there, breathing and very much alive; in the fucking flesh!

My brain shut down when my gaze connected to the other person's. I suddenly felt the room rotate in a blur before I encountered darkness


AUTORENGEDANKEN
illusionistic illusionistic

Warning: the chapters ahead are unedited, full of nightmarish grammar blunders and a bumpy road of plot holes, but I am currently editing to make it all right.

Please add the book to your library if you really want to continue the story and get updates when I am done editing.

However, if you'll like to proceed nevertheless, be my guest.

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