Fiction: Assisted Suicide

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Gregory is hanging off a balcony of a duplex, wearing just a pair of undershorts and an unbuttoned shirt.

Gregory is clutching a length of Ankara wrapper that is slowly coming apart.

Gregory is about to commit suicide.

No, it’s not what you think…he really doesn’t want to die. But he has no choice, really.

It all happened because of a big bottom…

---

Greg had always been a lover of fleshy backsides and large hips. It didn’t matter who had it; he would always stop and stare when one jiggled past. The small quake that each footstep sent through a behind in motion thrilled him. If he was driving, he was sure to slow down for a better view. He was shameless about it, only intent on feeding his eyes. After all, he was single, unofficially searching and answerable to no one. How would he find his ideal partner if he did not look?

And so what if the women he ogled were sometimes other men’s wives? A bottom had no identity, and hips wore no wedding rings.

Sometimes, the women he leered at would cuss at him, some would just look uncomfortable, and occasionally, a few would smile in encouragement.

It was one of the latter that finally put him in trouble.

Her name was Nkiru, she told him. Ah, curvy Nkiru who almost made him drive his jeep into a gutter when he first saw her – strutting along on a street in the estate he lived in, pulling her luggage and a gargantuan bottom behind her.

She accepted his offer of a lift, and seemed unbothered by his gawking. Her voice was high and sweet, and her face was pretty. But his focus lay further down. She was curved to perfection.

“I live at Flat 54,” she responded when he enquired. At first, his heart jumped for joy because he lived at Flat 50, but then the number sunk deeper into his head.

“Flat 54? Isn’t that where the soldier guy lives…? Larry?”

“Yes, you’re right,” Nkiru nodded, her cheeks dimpling. “Larry’s my fiancé.”

Gregory frowned. He wasn’t acquainted with the man in question but they had exchanged pleasantries a few times at estate get-togethers. Larry was a burly, brash man with rough manners, not much liked but tolerated because he was rich enough to own a home in the exclusive estate.

But as far as he knew, the soldier was single. In fact, he was notorious for the parade of women that trooped in and out of his home regularly, and loud fights often kept his neighbours up at night. Sometimes the women left with black eyes or in tears but nothing ever came of it because of what Gregory assumed were Larry’s military privileges.

He eyed Nkiru’s hips again, feeling a pang of envy. Why would Larry have a fiancée like this and still be bedding numerous women? Nkiru was the full package.

“Well, here we are,” Gregory said when they reached House 54. “Usually, your guy comes home around five, I think? So I hope you won’t be lonely.”

“Hmm, who knows? Would you like to come in?” Nkiru asked suddenly, gesturing at her luggage. “I’d be really grateful if you helped me take my stuff up.”

Ah, another opportunity to watch her hips dance? Eagerly, Gregory accepted the invitation, though he entered the compound warily. Larry had three vicious Dobermans.

But when they got in, the dogs were nowhere to be seen. The security man gawked at Nkiru at first, and then greeted her. The man was obviously surprised to see his boss’s fiancée. Gregory chuckled to himself as he followed her towards the main house, idly watching her bum jiggle. Larry was in for a surprise, it appeared.

The moment they stepped into the house, many surprising things seemed to happen very quickly. First, she tugged her luggage out of his hands and then pulled him close for a kiss. After his initial shock, Gregory quickly grabbed not just the opportunity but her ample behind as well. After about a minute of heated kissing and caressing, she pulled him upstairs and into what looked like the master bedroom, locked the door and promptly began to tug at his clothes.

Gregory could hardly believe his luck. He looked at his watch – it was just 3pm. Larry was at least two hours from showing up. This was a risk, but what a risk!

Naked, Nkiru was everything he had fantasized about. He was half-naked, and almost out of his mind with desire when the worst happened.

He froze as the very familiar sound of Larry’s voice wafted in through the window, and then his neighbour’s dogs began to bark in welcome. Gregory’s desire disappeared immediately, and he began to tug on his clothes, but kept sticking his leg in the wrong trouser hole.

He hopped around the room, not really dressing up but fully panicking.

“Jesus! Jesus! Your guy is back. Nkiru, Larry is…”

“Haaaa! He can’t find you here o!”

“Jesus! Let me go downstairs…”

“He’s already inside. You have to hide.”

“I’m finished! Where?”

“Under the bed…”

“Woman, are you silly? That’s the worst place…”

Nkiru picked up a wrapper and waddled over to the balcony leading out of the master bedroom, and for once, Gregory was too terrified to notice the glorious bottom roiling before him. He knew, he just knew that he was going to die. If not from embarrassment, then from whatever Larry would do to him.

---

So, that is how Gregory finds himself hanging over the balcony of his neighbour’s house, his sweaty palms clutching a slowly-tearing wrapper for dear life as he listens to the conversation within the master bedroom.

And oh, how spectacularly that conversation escalates.

All he has are his ears, and so his mind supplies the rest…

Door opens. A gasp.

“Nkiru!”

“Yes, darling! Surprise!”

“What? How?”

“Missed me?” A giggle. “Sweetie, I missed you.”

The door bangs shut. A shuffling, as heavy footfalls move around the room.

“I don’t understand…”

A clatter as a wardrobe opens. Shuts loudly. An unfamiliar rattle as something clinks on the tiled floor.

“Look, I came to finish what we started, dear. Larry… Larry, a gun really?”

Gregory’s eyes widen as the distinctive sound of a gun being cocked drifts to his ears. What the hell has he gotten himself into? Then the next words widen his eyes even further.

“Nkiru… Nkiru, you’re dead. I killed you two months ago…”

“Yes, you did, dear… And so? You still didn’t finish what you started…” The voice roughens, becomes a shriek. “Come over here and finish what you…!”

A gunshot, so loud that Gregory nearly loses his grip. But he holds on as the cacophony within increases.

Another gunshot. An inhuman shriek, then a yowl. A scream, another gunshot. Below, the dogs are barking. Gregory looks down, sees them running around the compound, sharp teeth bared as they listen to their master scream from inside the house.

A scream, a gurgling sound. A breaking sound, and a hissing. Then silence from inside the bedroom.

Gregory hangs on, his body soaked in sweat, his knees knocking as fear sends uncontrollable tremors through his body. He pees on himself. The wrapper rips a little more, but he has no more fear to give to it.

At least that is what he thinks, until Nkiru steps onto the balcony and looks down at him. He cannot move or scream, but something snaps in his mind – a last thread of sanity, perhaps.

She is naked, she is still beautiful, but her eyes gleam yellow, her perky breasts and wide hips are soaked in blood that is not hers, and the hands that she curls over the balcony rail are tipped with black and wickedly curved talons that are still dripping with gore.

“Come up, my dear,” Nkiru says, in a voice that sounds like nails scraping across a stone floor. “Come up and finish what you started…”

And that is when Gregory knows he will commit suicide.

He can only hope that he will hit the ground head first, or that he gets his throat instantly ripped out by Larry’s vicious Dobermans circling below.

It will be a merciful death compared to what waits for him with a large bottom above the balcony.

He lets go of the torn wrapper, and the ground rushes up to meet him.