Juliet dried her hands in the hot blast of air from the electric dryer in the restroom when suddenly her phone chimed repeatedly. She swiped to unlock. They were twitter notifications as she tapped to view. The tweet was nightmarish!Her first reaction was surprise, then disbelief, in it’s wake, denial and finally a howling anguish. Her breaths became heavy, abruptly breaking into violent sobs that racked her petite frame.
Trails of dark lines forked beneath her eyes as tears trickled over her mascara, making a mess of a face that had, seconds ago, been a palette of faultless cosmetic art. She wiped off the rivulets and looked again at the image on her screen: It was a picture of herself utterly unclad, smiling and posing obscenely, posted on twitter!
International BadMan@MistaRomeo
This one’s for you@Honeyberry
8:00am . 04 May 2015
The comments beneath the picture read:
@TDot: @MistaRomeodamn bro!!! Respect! You the real MVP
@MissDavido: @MistaRomeo when will all this stupid girls learn …another one again? smh
@prettymoi: @MistaRomeoyou so stupid for tweeting this. Naija guys r just immature.
@Omoba: @MistaRomeohaha! I have been waiting for nudes. She fine tho. Thanks boss
Every comment she read, in her mockery or defense, shattered her very existence as it cascaded down on her; each shard trapped in the pixels of the image that threatened to pull her into its virtual recess. 
She tore her gaze off the screen, gripping the washbasin to steady herself as she suddenly became light-headed. This happened to other people, not her! She had seen obscene pictures of girls recklessly posted on twitter, some she had mocked, and others she had empathized with and waved off as fall-outs of an acrimonious break-up or feud.
But she never imagined it would happen to her. Not her! Not her! Her singular moment of indiscretion had come to haunt her. Romeo was undoubtedly the devil. How did she always end up with scumbags? His sweet words, teasing smile and ostensible sincerity had charmed her as she agreed thoughtlessly to his whims and indulgences. Her mind poured over events of that fateful day
“Let’s do something crazy? “He had said‎
“What?” she had asked

“Lets me have a nude picture of you on my phone, it would be pleasurable reminder of your awesomeness. Don’t you think?”‎

“No. I don’t want a naked picture of me taken talk less of having it on your phone,” she had retorted

“Come on ….It would be our little secret. I promise not to show anyone, guard it as a gift from you till my dying days. Pretty please” he had said teasingly
His glib tongue eventually beguiled her into throwing away her senses. Now she wished she had been more cautious. They had eventually broken off about a month ago after a heated argument in which he almost went physical on her.
Her mentions exploded as more people commented and retweeted. Soon the picture would be on every blog, it would be talked about for days, if not weeks. The wounds left behind by this scourge would fester forever. Nothing would remain the same again. By God, this would be the last time any man ridiculed her, she swore.
From the murkiest depths of her mind, a sinister thought spawned, inexplicably calming her as there was a sudden clarity of what she needed to do next. She wiped her eyes again, sniffing as she stared into the mirror hung on the wall. Her eyes were red but her face was menacingly placid.
She checked her watch it was 3:00pm.Good. In quick mechanical movements, she cleaned her face, reapplied her make-up, squirming her skirt into place and smoothing her hair. She left the restroom and strutted down the hallway of the bank where she worked, past her cubicle and towards the exit, avoiding glances from her colleagues who noticed a nuance in her disposition. Had they seen the picture? Soon it wouldn’t matter.
She made for her Toyota Matrix in the parking lot. Romeo, any moment from now, should be leaving his office at Ahmadu Bello Avenue. If she drove fast enough she could reach him before he left. The car hurtled dangerously along the stretch from Ojuelegba to Victoria Island. Blaring horns and the squawks from passers-by occasionally jarred her out of her reverie as she steered with half-attention
Parked at a distance from the entry of his work place, she waited patiently, like a lion waiting to pounce on its prey, her loathing of him growing stronger; strengthening her resolve.
A security guard, noticing a distraught lady seated in a car, approached.
“Madam any problem”

“No problem sir, I am waiting for someone” she said in the sweetest voice she could muster and he left. She waited

Then she spotted him exiting the front gate and he was alone in a benign twist of fate. Her grip on the steering wheel was deathly, cold fury seeped through her veins as her gaze was riveted on her unwitting victim. In a paroxysm of hatred, rage and hurt, she slammed hard on the gas pedal, revving the car into piercing screeches as it started murderously at him. She could see his petrified expression change to recognition and then horror as he frantically sought to evade the collision. It was too late.
A loud shrill from his lips was abruptly cut short as she ran him over, distinct cracking sounds could be heard, testimony of crushed bones. She halted a few meters from the body; peering back at him as he grappled for life .His mangled body, scantily cloaked by his now ripped shirt was suffused with dirt and crimson. He soon lay motionless.
Terrified cries of on-lookers with their hands clasped together on their heads rented the air. Some rushed to the scene; others stood in horror. Her mind was suddenly tranquil as she zoomed off at full speed,unbuckling her seatbelt as she veered,head on, towards the trunk of a tree by the roadside.
Aminu Temitope is a brilliant writer. Her stories have been published on several platforms including naijastories. 
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Email: loladevilleblog@gmail.com/ololade.olatunji@yahoo.com 
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