Dear Angela,
My roommate, Kemi, cooked an expensive meal for me last night.
I was not surprised by this sudden generosity of hers.
I knew it was her little way of comforting me because of my recent breakup with my boyfriend, Emeka.
The breakup had taken a huge toll on my mental health.
It was not as if it was Emeka's fault.
PiroMan, a cultist and bully in our school who lusted after me, had warned him to stay away from me if he wanted to stay alive.
Emeka had no choice but to relinquish things with me.
Because of this, I swore to PiroMan that I would never do anything with him, that since Emeka would not have me, he, too, would not.
Kemi must have noticed how depressed I had grown because of the breakup, so she went out of her way to make something nice for me.
She served the food in our shared parlor and poured wine for both of us.
For hours, we ate and drank while watching TV, that is until I began to feel drowsy because of the continual cups of wine I had drunk.
"Nneka, let's get you to your room," Kemi mumbled when I could barely open my eyes.
With a huge effort, she managed to lead me into my room, and immediately after she let go of me, I sank onto my soft bed, sprawling about.
Since I was on the brink of being unconscious, I almost didn't hear Kemi say, "She's now asleep."
The last thing I remembered before I dozed off was seeing a vague figure of PiroMan and two other guys walking into my room, asking Kemi if she was sure I was asleep as they unbuckled their belts.
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