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    Abena Ash'e

    The Mist

    Rating: 4 votes, 2.00 average.
    by , 09-21-2008 at 04:41 AM (5492 Views)

    0 Not allowed! Not allowed!
    Chapter One
    The Mirror
    Day 1
    12:23 a.m.

    Here I stand in front of my mirror for the first time in a very long time. I was more nervous than a hooker in a church house. I was bold enough to face everyone but myself. I gave my all for this asshole I once called my strong black man. I relied on him like he was my favorite drug. I guess I have to check into rehabilitation so I can win myself off of him. I shouldn’t be defined as the poor excuse as a black woman. It’s going to take a miracle for me to realize that I don’t need love to love me. I don’t want to smoke on these cigarettes no more. I may not have enough self esteem, but I’ve recognized that when he up and left; I didn’t know how to follow. They want me to chase them like it’s a compliment. So once again, here I stare in front of this mirror. I began taking off my shirt and loosening up my buttons as the tears began rolling down my face. I slipped off my stockings and clipped off my shoes as my skirt dropped below my knees. I know I can endure some more, because he is not the reason on what I’m living for. I’ve shown my emotions to him just the previous night. I’m keeping my composure and avoiding his excuses. I’m going to leave this devastating relationship, because the damage that has been a burden on is not worth my worries.

    “Janiah, you didn’t hear me knocking on the door. The rain is coming down extremely hard and I was standing out there looking dumb as f**k, getting soaked and wet. What the hell is wrong with the locks? I tried putting my key in and it did not work. You know I had to climb through the window downstairs and why the hell are you naked with candles all around the god damn house?” my fiancé Richard said extendedly complaining.

    My thoughts began to leave as I his voice pounded inside my head. His untold lies were like a migrane and I was getting ready to explode. The time that set close to me before his sorry a** entered that door; was gone. The same so called love that was in his pants was set forward towards another woman. I’m still contemplating; do I want to blow the score?

    “Janiah, what the hell is the matter with you. Cuts some lights on will you?” he said walking towards the lamp and trying to cut the lights on. “Janiah the electricity is out? I thought I told you to pay the damn electric bill. I see you can’t do anything around here. What are you good for huh?”

    Deep down inside I wanted to murder him with all the anger that lied inside of me. I use to love this man with everything I had. How could he be so deceiving? I was disgusted to the max towards this pig I once slept with. He didn’t have the slightest clue what I was thinking. The dumbfounded look on his face was priceless and I wanted to intrigue it even more. I wanted to take that lamp and knock him up side his thick, lying skull of his. He was confused and I think I’m going stand up for who I am. I’m going to stand up for who I was meant to be, a strong black woman.

    “Janiah, are you going to say anything? Why the hell did you change the locks and where the hell is all my god damn clothes?!” he said searching in the closet for a new shirt to replace the soaked one he was wearing. “Janiah, where the hell is all of my s**t?!” he said walking towards me.

    “Go to hell Richard,” I said walking towards the nightstand and sitting on my bed.

    “Go to hell?” he said getting frustrated and confused. “Look woman, I don’t know what the hell is going on, but I’m a need for you to tell me where my shit is!”

    “You can find all of you’re things in the backyard near the trash cans.”

    “What?!” he said stepping towards me in my face. “What did you just say?”

    “I’m sorry,” I said standing up to him. “You didn’t hear me? Let me make it more clearer baby. I said all of you’re s**t is in the backyard near the trash cans.”

    I think Richard finally realized that he was caught in the act and here he lies in front of me, witnessing a strong woman overcoming a man. I have seen the anger infuriation inside his eyes. His muscles began to tighten and looked tense. He picked my body up from the ground and slammed me into the mirror that I was starring at earlier. I started to see a change in him from the words I spoke, that he couldn’t handle and except. My body dropped from mid air as I laid there on the floor in shock. He walked out the room and started to walk downstairs. I painfully lift up my body and peeked out the window and noticed him getting his clothes and moving it back and forth on the patio. The lightning was fierce that night and the rain was coming down heavily. He was so remorseful, as if he deserved to be upset more than me. He glanced at the window and our eyes connected for quite some time. There for a few seconds, I’ve felt abandoned from the man I once loved. How could this manipulation from the system that wants him to turn on his queen; allow himself to do so? He continued moving the rest of his clothes onto the patio. I laid in the bed and promised myself that he would never put his hands on me again. I remember our first argument and he up and left. I didn’t know how to follow behind him and beg him to come back. I didn’t have the strength to do so. So how do I have the strength to put up with this now? I couldn’t sleep that night. Sleeping was unbearable. When he finally walked in the room around 2:30 a.m., I held my pillow tightly and started to nibble my nails. He crept in the bed trying ‘not wake me.’ This treatment was way out of line. He tried tucking me in with the same covers that warmed his back. I immediately pushed the sheets off of me roughly and continued squeezing my pillow. This is the stage where he felt guilty and he needed to suck up as much as possible. I remained awoke until 4:21 a.m. He was sleeping like a baby that just been breast fed. I slowly got up and crept inside the bathroom to take another look at myself in the mirror. I was terrified beyond my belief. I wanted to take this bat and beat him repeatedly, but something was telling me: this is something I shouldn’t commit. I’m not like him. I felt his presence coming about and quickly I turned around.

    “Janiah, we need to do what is best for us and try to work this marriage out,” he said coming closer to me.

    “Are you out of you’re f**king mind?!” as soon as I said those words a slap ran across my face.

    “Wrong answer,” he said grabbing my throat and picking me up. “Now are you out of you’re f**king mind?!” he said taunting me as I gasped for air. “Oh what you’re mad because I’m cheating on you? Get the f**k over it. I’m screwing her but loving you. You’re ungrateful and selfish!”

    My vision started to become blurry and my head began to weigh light. All I kept thinking about was the day we first met. I would have never thought in a million years that the man that saved me from a previous heart breaking relationship; would be the same man causing domestic violence. I found love in his eyes. All roads were leading me to him, but now my love is finally broken in this journey. I began looking in his eyes and the tears began to roll down my face. He lifted the weight from my neck, but still had a firm hold of it. He placed me in the tub and turned the hot water on. It was scorching hot. I felt as if my skin was going to peel and melt. I couldn’t move from the shock that embraced onto me. My mind was signaling me, letting me know that I was going to pass out and drown in this water. My body was too weak for strength. I was already dizzy and light headed from the air cut from my circulation and the hot water was making me go into a faint stage. My eyes finally gave up and rolled in the back of my head as I took one last look as he closed the door and I heard the bed squeak; telling me he was going back to sleep as if nothing just happened to me.

    Day 2 morning
    9:15 a.m.

    I woke up and noticed my body was pruned. I quickly got up from the tub and nearly slipped on spilled baby oil that was lying on the ground. I was confused of this whole situation. I’ve noticed the windows were painted black and the lights were dim; I barely could see. I tried opening up the door, but it was locked. I began banging on the door as hard as I could until I heard his piercing voice yelling on the other side of the door.

    “I thought the baby oil would kill you, but oh well. Janiah, I’m getting ready to go to work. There is no way you can leave that room. You can bang as hard as you can on that door, but you’re trapped with every single furniture that’s in the bedroom and in the living room. You want to treat me like sh**; I will bring it on you 10 fold,” he said beginning to chuckle and stuffing his face with food.

    “Let me out!” I said banging on the door as hard as I can.

    “I don’t think so. I have to go sweetie. I will talk to you when I get home,” he said exiting the room.

    Throughout the whole entire day, I was thinking of different ways on murdering him and getting away with it. I wasn’t quite sure what time it was and what I was doing. The society of a black man is over rated. What do we stand for as one? Does that even exist anymore? I was lost and trapped in the bathroom with nothing to do, eat, nor drink. I couldn’t live like this. I was angry at myself, as my people, and for him. I got up from the bathroom floor and starred at myself in the mirror. I was disgusted at the person who was looking back at me. This is not who I am. I took the bat that was under the sink cabinets and smashed the mirror with all my might. I started bashing the window above the tub until the day of light shined through the darkness. I then started taking all my frustrations on the door and began banging and hitting the door. “You think I’m weak?!” I spoke among myself and beaten the door even harder and harder. “You think I’m still in love with you?!” My frustrations started to pay off; the door begins crackling and I torn that mother f**ker down until it was no center of a door left! I noticed that I was supposed to be trapped in the room. Luckily my conscience that doubted him let me to bring the bat inside the bathroom. I began crawling through the furniture, up and down and getting stuck. Led me through freedom; I was out the room. I kept thinking on what I should do. Should I call the police? Should I keep my composure and give him another try? Should I even the score? I had to pick one of these decisions. What would you do?

    12:20 a.m.

    “Wow, what a long day of work,” Richard said as he walked up the steps and moving towards our bedroom door. “Janiah…” he stopped his words as he noticed the big hole in the bathroom door.

    “How was work?” I said standing behind him with a knife in my hand.

    “Janiah give me that knife,” he said dropping his briefcase and loosening up his tie. “Give me the knife Janiah, or someone will end up hurt.”

    “I think that’s my whole motive Richard…”

    “You’re too weak Janiah,” he said moving closer to me as I stabbed him in shoulder as hard as I can and released it. “Are you f**king crazy?!”

    “The police are on their way and as much as I hate calling them Richard,” I said backing up away from him as he bled. “Why didn’t you just pack you’re sh** and leave for what you did to me? What did you expect, oh what you didn’t think I was going to find out about you and that sleazy b**ch?! You’re just dragging you’re self inside the system as they judge us for you’ve showing an example of. Did you forget where you come from Richard? Do you?! How could you even think about putting you’re hands on me?!”

    “F**k you b**ch,” he said rushing closer to me as the knife jabbed him in the gut full throttled.

    “Wrong answer,” I said beginning to cry as his body dropped to the floor. Isn’t this what the society wants us to do? Murder our own people? Why should I fear for my life from the one who shares the same color as me? We, as a people wear each other shoes and ‘supposedly’ know what we’ve been through. But when I look through that mirror, I only see myself. I’m only living for myself. This environment changed.

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    1. Jamila's Avatar
      Striking! You're a very descriptive writer, I felt as if I was there in the house
      Keep the stories coming Warrior Queen.

      0 Not allowed! Not allowed!
    2. Elisa Keisha's Avatar
      My god! you know how to write! keep it coming. Lets see what this story led us to!

      0 Not allowed! Not allowed!


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