Vero thought I was in love with her. I was cocky and smooth and I knew the right things to say to her. If this woman had the ability to make good things happen to the people around her, then I was in this for the long haul. She was exactly what I needed in my life.
As we became closer, I summoned up courage and ask her about the things landlord and our fellow tenants had said and how that was even possible but she vehemently debunked their claims and said it was sheer coincidence that all those things were happening to them at the time she moved in. I didn’t know what to believe but I continued to shower her with “love”.
In the first few months of our relationship, I proved myself to be a dotting and caring lover. I was ready to accept what the landlord said about her and I could stake my life on it.
I was able to win Vero’s heart totally, and that’s when she decided to open up to me about her true self. She had a secret alright. It turned out that she was a rich girl. She had only come to live in that neighborhood because she was searching for true love, she was looking for a nice man that would sweep her off her feet and love her for who she really was and not because of what she had. She was used to people flocking around her because of what they could get from her so she opted for the disguise. It was a “nothing ventured nothing gained” situation for her and it was a risk worth taking, after all, she met me and found love while at it.
Vero and I moved in together not too long after we started dating. I was the perfect boyfriend and she was head over heels in love with me. Vero was so happy that she had finally found the love of her life but the feeling wasn’t mutual. She wasn’t my type of girl. I didn’t like her and I wasn’t attracted to her. I was just a young and ambitious guy and she was my ticket out of poverty.
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I was going to make her my wife, that would give me more advantage to all she had, so l began to push for us to settle down. Vero was excited about it but she suggested that we wait a year or two and get to know ourselves better before going into marriage. Two years seemed like such a long time but I was willing to wait it out.
Vero worked as the personal assistant to a very top government official. They were into some money laundering and racketeering deals and she was making a lot of money. This girl was rich and she ensured that I lacked nothing but I was hungry for more. Being poor all my life had beclouded my sense of reasoning so that when I became privy to what she had, I could no longer function properly.
Early in our relationship, Vero had mentioned that she had something to tell me when the time was right.
I was curious but I didn’t let that bother me. Even if she was the priestess of the marine world, I was willing to stick my neck in this relationship as long as I continued to enjoy the influence and affluence that came with it.
One evening, after treating her to a full body massage and a delicious meal, Vero became overwhelmed with the gesture and she decided that it was time to open up to me about another aspect of her life. She confided in me that her life was hanging on a thread? She wasn’t sick so I didn’t understand what she was talking about. Vero began to tell how the women in her family usually died at a young age so in her bid to fortify or protect herself, she was introduced to a juju priest who locked her soul in a bottle. As long as the lid was on, Vero would live to a good old age but if the lid ever got opened, she would die instantly. This was unbelievable. Nobody knew about the bottle and she made me swear to secrecy. One gets to see such things only in movies but this was Vero’s reality. It was so surreal.
I have always been a greedy person but my mind became even more messed up when I accidentally stumbled on documents showing that Vero had made me her next of kin. She loved and trusted me a lot but it’s so sad that I could not reciprocate the feeling.
My mind went into over drive after I saw those documents. What if all of Vero’s money became my money?
I could find a way to get her out of the picture instead of making her my wife. I recently started dating one pretty girl that lived a few streets away from ours and I could picture her as my wife instead of Vero.
So one night, while Vero was sleeping peacefully, I sneaked into the wardrobe and pulled out the secret bottle from where she safely tucked away. With sweaty and shaky hands, I grabbed the lid and squeezed it open. I watched with wide eyes as Vero jerked up from the bed and looked at me. I was panic stricken but I had to get this over and done with. I watched her struggle for breath as tears rolled down her cheeks, she muttered my name once and slowly slipped back into the sheets as she drew her last breath.
The days following were sad for everyone. Her brothers believed she died prematurely like their mother, their grandmother and others before them. I was a good guy (or so they thought) so nobody suspected any foul play. They all thought I was the only man that had ever loved their sister geniuely.
I took time to mourn Vero. But exactly one year later, I got married to the love of my life. Remember the young girl that lived two streets away? yeah that one. I was crazy about her but she was crazy about my money. She was uncouth and brash…a far cry from what I thought she was. She didn’t even come close to Vero in any way.
My life seemed peaceful until after I got married. Vero’s ghost would hunt me whenever I tried to sleep. I couldn’t tell anyone what I was going through and I was slowly losing my mind. My wife couldn’t understand what was going on with me, she was more interested in my money than anything else. After putting up with me for two years, she took a vacation to the UK with our daughter and she never returned.
Here I am, eight years after Vero’s death, I should have everything I want but it turns out that I have nothing… I am lonely and miserable.
I am still friends with Vero’s brothers, how do I tell them that I killed their sister.
That pastor fellow said to confess to what I did but I am afraid. How do I even start?
Well, here’s my story, I’ve written it and it is going to be published and I’m keeping my fingers crossed that this will serve as my confession. I will go to bed tonight hopeful that Vero will not come to me.
