Adanne's soul was betrothed to God on Monday, a day like today, a day she thought the whole bottle of snipper would slice her volvulus intestines into tiny bits of lifeless meat before packing up.

She lay naked on the cold tiled floor of her room, waiting for the poisonous chemical to kick start its duty — not that she had many things to live for — so I don't blame her for finding solace in a bottle, I blame Nnegi who haunted her existence.

You don't know how it feels to be trapped in a body that rejects your soul, the one that pushed you away from everything you loved. Adanne knew this, she had walked on hot coal and it soothed her feet. Instead of life, Adanne found peace with dying, she craved for it, rolled suicide under her tongue like a meatball savouring everything heavenly it brought.

At first she thought of how her friends would receive the news, would they be happy or sad that at last the snub choose to end her life? Will Nnegi write an elegy for her? Who will continue to write her blog? The same one where she bashed everyone who committed suicide calling them the greatest cowards and simps who did not deserve to live in the first place.

Her blog post are monumental, the least had over ten thousand shares and close to a hundred thousand reads. Adanne is popular, she knows how to stay in the media, just the way her death news is expected to blow minds away and 'fem' her competitors.

She was still lost in thoughts when the first pang came in, it was like a small jab from Dwayne Johnson, she felt it but it went away just as quick as it came. She winced a bit, readjusted her position on the floor. Then it struck her, she did not want her room mate to come back to meet her stiff cold body naked on the floor, dead like a frozen fish.

Adanne stood up to wear panties, the same red strings that she bought for Nnegi but was flung back to her face for been too cheap than the advertised. She wore the panties then her favourite black kimono. While still tying the ropes of her gown, her stomach grumbled again, this time harder and furiously. Her legs failed her and she collapsed on the floor.

First, it was as if someone lit a fire underneath her genitals, she became hot that involuntarily she tore off the kimono from her body, she let out a loud scream but no one heard her. Omah Lay's Bad Influence was blasting loudly from her room decor, no one would hear it even if you shot a gun.

The next thirteen minutes were not pleasant to describe, Adanne writhed in pain, curling like a snake with no head, she bit hard into her nails, tugged her braids until the attachment started coming off with her own hair and blood was seeping out from her scalps.

Her breathe became shallow yet difficult, tachycardia became her best friend, hugging her chest like a lost lover. She coughed blood and her nose were dripping blood too. Adanne knew her end was close and nothing could change the situation of things.

At that moment she regretted everything, she hated Nnegi for turning her down, she hated herself, her father who left when she was two and barely remembered how he looked like, she hated the world, the producers of snipper, and Iya Tayo who sold it to her . Adanne closed her eyes letting the tears drop freely.

Just then Nnegi with a host of paramedics barged in breaking down Adanne's room door. Nnegi was scared, she never thought Adanne would be crazy enough to do as she said in her last WhatsApp message. Who writes their suicide notes on WhatsApp statuses?

© Ololade Edun.
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PS: A special shout out to Jemimah Oseghale for letting me steal her photo for this fictional piece.