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Love Bite: Finale

 This fictional series contains Nigerian slangs and some inappropriate use of diction. This is for the proper portrayal of the character.

 

Love Bite: Finale

 

The bodies were no longer at the police station. After 56 minutes of chaos, I was directed to a morgue in Ogba. It was a cream-colored bungalow with a small, old brown gate with rusty brown bars. The rain had stopped and the cool air caressed my face, but even in its abundance, I dared not breath easy. He was in there. In a morgue. I drove him into a morgue...

The Best Social Media Analogy I Ever Heard

The images on social media are like the case of the Newscaster who sits at his desk, airbrushed, water-based makeup on, perfect hair, tie knotted, shirt crisp. He begins to speak, everything is excellent. Then the director yells, “Cut!” He gets up from his chair, and the truth is revealed—he’s wearing no pants...

 
 

Love Bite: Entry #9

For the first time in a long time, I got on my knees and prayed. Leke had been missing for four days; I couldn't go to work; I still didn't know who was sending the videos. It was a mess- a hot mess.

I heard God likes hot messes. He could fix them.

Please bring Leke home. 

It was all I could mutter. I laid my head on the bed, whispering those words over and over. Quickly, the bedsheets dampened with warm tears and my sobs, muffled against the soft cotton. If God heard me, he wasn't in a rush to respond. I stayed on my knees until the stiff protrusions of the rug tendrils digging into my knees faded away and I fell asleep.  I woke with a start to the vibration of my phone. I squinted at the screen. It was a text message. A strange number...

Love Bite: Entry #8

Leke had vanished. For three days now, I got to hear the annoying, high pitched voice which announced that his phone was off. He wasn’t at the church, neither was he at Pastor Remi’s. He hadn’t spoken to his siblings in six weeks. His mother suspected nothing when I asked if he had called her to say hello, instead she began to talk about grandchildren.

I focused on calling Leke’s phone every ten minutes.

On the evening of the third day of his disappearance, Abigail drove me to the police station and we filed a missing person’s report...