There’s this bastard I met in August. Omo, not every rich guy you give your number oh. So this guy is into tech and he’s okay financially. He collected my phone number, and we started talking, but we were never cool ’cause I don’t like him. Every day he sends a lot of epistles expressing how he really wants this whole thing to work since August last year. I decided to consider him in November when we are supposed to hang out. He came to pick me up from my house, and then he received a call and said he wanted to quickly pick something at home before we proceeded to where we were heading initially. Omo, once we entered the gate of his compound, this guy told me to come inside, which I refused.
He and his gatekeeper carried me inside forcefully, only for him to rape me mercilessly. When we got inside, I cried my eyes out, shouting on top of my voice. I received a lot of slaps from him, yet he didn’t stop until he was done. He said a lot of hurtful things to me, how people won’t believe he raped me, and if I speak up or try to tell anyone he will pour acid on me. I kept it to myself, treated myself, and blocked him immediately after I got home. Only for this guy to text me with different numbers since December till date, apologizing and begging me to forgive him, that it was a spirit that came over him. Omo, I wish you pain till you leave this earth, you f00lish boy. Please, I can’t get over the whole thing. Typing this relieved me a bit.
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