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Trapped

Trapped 

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⟹ ⟹ ⟹ PLAY THE SONG BEFORE READING. START THE SONG FIRST AND PLAY ALL THE SONGS

                                                Afire Love by Ed Sheeran

We lay there backs to each other. Something wanted me to reach over but I couldn’t. This was becoming our story. This was becoming what we were identified with. But this situation only made us one thing; better actors to fit into the society because when we were out, all we had to do was put on a smile and make the whole world think that everything was fine in the Davidson home.

I could feel the sleep coming over me and I wanted to turn around and tell her I love her. I wanted to turn around and plant a kiss on her lips like I had done many times from our fornicating days till when we decided to get married. I wanted to go back to the old us. I really did.

It was about 8:30am in the morning when I woke up, she was already up. I could hear some movements in the kitchen and her space in the bed was empty. She was either doing the dishes from the dinner she made the night before or just cleaning up like she normally did.

I got up and turned around, reached for my phone. Flipped it over and looked at my emails, messages and texts. I placed the phone down.

I got up and sluggishly made my way into the bathroom. I caught a glimpse of my boner as I walked past the mirror and my small brain wanted me to put that to work.  But no, that wasn’t going to happen.

Standing over the toilet bowl, I began to pee. I realized about halfway through that I forgot to lift up the toilet seat. I knew how much she hated that, she was soo going to lose it. But I finished, turned around, cut a piece of paper towel and threw it into the bowl.  I washed my hands then walked out and went to the kitchen.

“Good morning baby…” 

“Good morning”

She responded in her ever so polite and quiet voice. There was something missing; the smile, the spark. Our pain had taken all of that from her. Now she settled for mere days of happiness. I asked of her plans and she said she had none except seeing her sister and stopping at the bank.

“Dinner at Sophie’s tonight?”

I asked.

“I’ll let you know later. Is that okay?”

I nodded and took a sip of my coffee.

Tax season was over so I was home more and traveling less. I had been traveling a lot recently, not because I didn’t love her or want to be home but because I felt like things were changing between us and I wasn’t ready for that and tax season is the busiest time for an accountant.

I headed back to my room and walked by the room. Untouched and hardly opened. I remembered last night when she had snapped at me. I was disappointed and sad because I knew that the fight against the pain that was tearing us apart was winning and we were giving in.

I stood in front of the room and looked at the closed door. Everything in that room was vividly registered in my mind. I knew where every detail was. I stood in the doorway of our bedroom and she came into the hallway and saw me standing there.

Tears began to flow down her eyes and I turned away and walked into our bedroom without doing anything. Sad, I know but it was where we were now. Love used to reside in our home. Used to.  Now we were cuddled in the arms of heartbreak and unhappiness and it was like home.

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 It was my junior year in college and I was in a fraternity, working at a coffee shop and making up community service hours at the local library affiliated with my school down the street from campus.

That beautiful Friday morning I was restocking the books we had received overnight into their respective positions and I happened to glance at the door when a local day program for autistic kids came into the building to use our community playroom. Their program assistant was just beautiful. Like you could tell from afar that she had a great heart. I just wanted to get to know her instantly.

I stood off in between two shelves and watched her care for and direct the kids. It was so heartwarming. I must have been staring for about 20 minutes when my co-worker came up behind me and said, 

“Are you going to talk to her or just stare like a creep?”

I joked and blew it off like she wasn’t my type or anything but she really was. She was the perfect foil to me; crazy and loud at the same time. She would bring so much calm and focus to my life but not until after she made me work to even get her attention.

The first time I ever talked to her, was just bad. I messed up so much. I used to think I had game but my own tongue humbled me. I had never seen it so tied and twisted as it was that day.

Towards the end of my shift, I got radioed to come and clean up a mess a kid made in the playroom her group of kids were using that day. I walked into the room with my broom and mop heading straight for the spilled bag of hot Cheetos on the floor. I wasn’t angry that it had been spilled on the floor, in fact I was more upset that I had to do that “dirty job” in front of her.

I made the mistake of being myself instead of trying to impress her by rushing to sweep it all off the ground, the crackers crumbled under the broom and further stained the carpet. Confused, I jumped down to the ground and tried to use my brush to scrub it all off and I was doing okay until, I got up and realized my blue jeans were covered in yellow cheese from the knees downwards. Wet cheese.

I looked down at my pants with the kids laughing at me and I looked up at her, she had a smile on her face; a little one. I don’t know where the words came from but in my embarrassment, I coughed up,

“What are you looking at that’s funny?”

and rushed out of the room. I noticed the smile on her face disappear and turn to surprise as I turned the corner of the tempered glass window and walked away.

I played that incident in my head many times and wished I could take it all back and re-do it. I felt I could have been smoother than I was that day. Ugh! I hated myself. It didn’t help that she would then travel for the entire summer to London for a wedding and studying abroad. I was so angry I didn’t get a second shot. But after all, they say you don’t get a second chance to make a first impression or at least something along those lines.

A few months had passed and I was running through campus one evening when I noticed her sitting down reading on the field. I was taken aback and immediately approached her. This chance was not passing me by. I came up to her and tried to chat her up but I walked away from that conversation shut down.

I remember starting with,

 “Hey, how’s it going? My name is Marcel. What are you reading there?”

She responded with,

Impact of Vicarious Trauma on Social Workers”

Obviously having no idea on what she was talking about, I tried to play it off and continued the conversation,

“Oh, that must be from the Sociology class about social problems, right?”

She looked at me, smiled with pity and said,

“No. but if you don’t mind, I have to finish this chapter”

Like a dog with its tail between my legs, I walked away till I got far enough and started running. I didn’t want to start running after I left her because I was so surprised at the exchange. I felt so little that it felt like I would have tripped over my own feet if I’d attempted to run.

I could not understand why she would not give me a chance to chat her up or get to know her. I was guessing she knew I was part of a fraternity and maybe she didn’t like them or something. I was confused and intrigued. And she never even gave me her name.

I would later run into her and her best friend one day. I immediately began chatting up her friend as a way to not get blown off. Her friend liked me. It was working. And then I invited them to a party the guys at the house were throwing.

We had been throwing parties for a while. I was always in charge of the food and at the time I was neighbors with Chad, the guy in charge of the guest list; he decided who came and who wasn’t invited. I knew that I wanted her to be there, so I walked into his room one evening and asked him that I wanted her to get a special invite for the next party.

The way our crew rolled on campus each party was unique in the way we promoted or even themed it. There was a schedule for how we threw parties; one in March, July and one usually in late September or early October. Whether, she knew it or not, she was coming.  Speaking with Chad, the invites for this party were Masquerade masks. If one got delivered to you by one of the freshman pledges, you were in.

I specifically wanted to invite her to this party, so I had Chad give me her specific invite along with that of her best friend. I walked into her Sociology class during lecture and walked straight to her seat. I stood in front of her and dropped it on her desk. With a smile on my face, I said,

“Party is on Saturday, you’re the special guest. It won’t be epic without you. Don’t let everyone else down”

and began to walk away. I turned around right at the door to a startled professor and an embarrassed smile on her beautiful face. I knew I got her; I just knew it.

A few days had gone by and I had still not heard anything from her. It was crazy how I went from being extremely confident to beginning to doubt myself. I wondered why she didn’t respond and what that meant.

“Did she think I was obnoxious?”

“Full of it?” 

“Too out there?”

I wasn’t sure and the silence was making it so much harder for me to think straight. I needed to see her. I needed an answer.

.    .     .     .     .     .

 The party was halfway through and it was about midnight. I had not heard from her or her friend and I still kept looking out for her hoping she would show up. A few rounds of beer pong, spin the bottle and a couple hits off the rotating blunt out on the porch. I was starting to forget about the disappointment of her not coming that I was actually starting to have fun.

And then backing the door, I was talking to a friend and I heard my name. It was her voice. It was her gentle voice. Funny to say gentle because it was deeper than most women but it always seemed to soothe my heart and comfort my ears. I turned around and there she was; beautiful.

She had her hair up in brown braids. She was wearing a blue blouse with brown shorts and some heels. I swear I just wanted to take a bite off her smooth cheeks as she smiled at me.

“You came!”

I began with sporting a huge smile on my face

“Where is your friend?”

I continued,

“Bathroom”

She responded while pointing to the corner of the house.

“Well thank you for coming. I’m glad you could make it”

I yelled over all the blasting music.

She nodded and pulled me in close and yelled into my ears

“For that stunt you pulled, you owe me dinner. My pick and I’d like a drink, please…”

I pulled back from her as she shoed me away like a little child.

I smiled and turned around. She was hooked. She was mine.

Our initial few months were different from the norm. The honeymoon phase came months later into us knowing each other. We used to argue over the pettiest shit and for no actual reason except that we were both stubborn and no one wanted to cede control or get hurt. It was ruining us from building anything solid. And we knew it too.

Months would pass by and we would begin to understand each other better. Since we began to get serious my biggest issue with her was probably that whenever it got seriously bad with us or we were in a rough patch, she would pack up and be so eager to leave the relationship. Instead of rolling up her sleeves, taking the reins like she first did when I tried to woo her and impacted the relationship. She always wanted to go. It made me feel extremely inadequate and like I could not love her right. She barely complimented me and even if she did, it was always twisted to not highlight me in some way. I felt powerless whenever we argued because it would always be turned into how much I was needy, selfish and inconsiderate.

But she had a way, oh she had a way to make me happy; possibly the happiest man in the world.

It was the way she smiled, the way she talked, the way she snored. The way she looked into my eyes and drank all my bottles of water whenever she came to visit. Even the way she said, “what you ma call it?” or her obsession with Indian movies; she endeared herself in my heart.

Those were the reasons why I loved her so deeply. She motivated me to be a better man everyday.

She curbed my wild ways and helped me understand what it truly meant to love and be selfless. Out of nowhere, this woman captivated my heart and I was completely fine with it.

One night, we had been going through a rough period and walking on eggs shells, it was frustrating.  A few days prior, I had accidentally hit her in the middle of trying to de-escalate an argument we were having. She knew it was an accident but she was still holding on to it much to my irritation and frustration.

This evening, I could not remember what was said, I believe it had something to do with a post I put up on Facebook. Usually something I wrote or posted to some girl. She didn’t like it and she called to confront me about it. I blatantly told her it was not about her even though I was pissed off at her for another matter. She became angry and attempted to blow me off that night. I wasn’t having it.

I got up and put my clothes on. It was past midnight. I got into my car and headed for her house. About a few minutes away, I texted her saying I was on my way and I wanted her to come down stairs but we were both only allowed two sentences each.

I got there and a few minutes later, she was in the passengers seat. No words exchanged.

                                      Nishike by Sauti Sol 

We drove to a quiet and dark empty parking lot and I parked the car. Motioning to her, we hopped in the back seat of the car.  I pulled her in close and said nothing. Just holding her tight. I knew she needed to be held. She was stubborn but she was my baby. She was my Queen. I kissed her gently as I stroked her shoulder. She looked at me like she felt safe. I hadn’t done enough of that lately. Making her feel safe. I was caught up in all I wanted and how I wanted it that I would sometimes run right over her feelings and lead us into another fight before realizing what was happening. I felt bad because I didn’t want her to be frustrated or fed up. I was madly in love with her.

I motioned to her that I wanted to make love and not have sex with her. Important difference. She said okay. She actually used up her two sentences very quickly in attempting to convince me to say more words. I didn’t budge.

I laid her down and slowly took off her clothes. Kissing her softness along the way. There was something about loving this woman, it was easy. Even through all the things we had been through, there was no one else I would rather love.  I took off her panties and lowered myself on her pink. It was a very direct approach. I slurped my tongue into her wet pink and slowly began to suck on her clit. It was warm, even hotter when I allowed my tongue to go inside of her to feel her walls. Both her hands were on my head directing it along the tracks. I was getting my beard covered in her wetness and it felt good. I didn’t spend too much time down there, I came up. For a brief moment, I stopped and looked into her eyes. I just could not imagine being any other place but in the back of this car with her. I hated the car, my blue Nissan Sentra that was starting to fall apart but I loved her and I loved the space we occupied. It was all I needed.

I could feel her breathing pick up pace as I lowered my member into her. Slow thrusts until my entire shaft was covered in her wetness. I held her close with my right hand behind her back for support and my left hand on the fogged window. It was hot, steamy and sweaty. The thrusts were not fast; deep but not fast. Controlled and gently paced, I could hear her moans travel through my ears and into the empty parking lot as it sailed and faded before reaching the residential homes behind us. I could feel her wetness begin to touch my balls as they gently slammed into her. Deeper and deeper, I ploughed. She dug her hands into my ass and squeezed tight pushing my hard package into her. Her right leg placed on the back of the passenger seat, her sandal had fallen while that on the other leg stayed high along with the leg on the back seat. My name was not mentioned but I could hear her loud and clear. I could feel a reconnection between us. I could feel her heartbeat on my chest as her right fingers dug into my back. It was not a matter of how much I loved her but more of how much I was connected to her. The pace never changed. It was like our body parts carried the message of the heart through each other. We held on to each other, tight. It was the safest place.

I remember we finished and lay there on top of each other. Looking out of my moon roof, talking about our journey. It was beyond a doubt that I wanted to be with this woman. I lay there and wandered if there was anything that could break us without us letting it. She was my one true love. She was my only love. I had so many names for her to ensure that she remembered she ruled my heart.

On my chest she laid, peacefully and slowly starting to fall asleep like I was and then it happened, in the dark of the empty parking lot, it happened.

We heard a knock on the glass.

Shit!

It was the police and we were both naked…

I was confident that he was going to write us a ticket for indecent exposure or something but he asked for our ID’s and checked them.

Returning the cards back to us as we had rushed to put our clothes on

“It’s not safe out here”

He said

 “Go home.”

We thanked our stars and rushed into the car. I drove slowly to her house whilst holding her hand. I glanced over a few times to her and still said nothing. I pulled up in front of her apartment. She stepped out and I did too. I walked around the car and hugged her. Wrapping her in my arms, I whispered in her ears my only two sentences

“I love you, mami”

“I’m sorry”

She pulled back and looked up at me from her 5’5 place, into my eyes she searched as if to validate the apology. I leaned in and kissed her. I was sorry and she knew it. I hugged her tighter and let go to walk to my car.

“Drive safe!”

She yelled into the night as I drove off. I had the biggest smile on my face. I was in love. I knew I was in love with that woman. My heart was hers.

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Those were the memories we shared. That man and that woman had disappeared; gone. We had changed. Life had changed us and we had no means of making it stop.

It had been a long and draining day and I just wanted to go home and relax. I was pulling into the driveway when I remembered that we were supposed to be having dinner with Sophie and her family.

I was too tired but I was willing to do it for her. I just wanted to go to bed but I walked into the house. She was sitting down on the floor. She didn’t even acknowledge my entrance.

“Jae, how are you?”

Silence. She said nothing and took another sip from her glass. It was filled with win and there were not just one but two bottles sitting next to her.

 “You’re not going to answer me? How much have you had to drink?”

I began to get angry.

I knew this. I knew this mood. I knew what this meant. This usually happened when she had been thinking a lot and wanted to get out of her head. But it wasn’t always civilized. Sometimes she would get stupid drunk and attack me emotionally with words and sometime physically.

I walked closer to her and bent down to pick up one of the bottles.

 “Put it down!”

She snarled at me as she charged up at me. She stumbled as she found her feet. It was empty and she was drunk.

 “Calm down baby”

I tried to lead her to the couch.

 “No! No! Nooooo!!! Don’t tell me to calm ,… down..sShhh. That’s how you’ll go and marry someone else! No! Not happening! Put a fucking baby in me Marcel!!!!”

I was already at my limit; tired and frustrated. I didn’t know when I snapped back and said

 “I did! 3 times already! Not my fault they never stayed!”

I looked at her. Her eyes cleared. There was a deafening silence as her heart shattered. I knew I had messed up as the words left my mouth.  Fuck!

Without saying a word, she headed for the bedroom. I turned around and picked up my briefcase and my coat. I walked out of the house and into my car.

About 30minutes later, I was letting myself into my room. I sat on the perfectly laid bed and stared at the in house menu. I had no appetite but I knew I had to eat as I hadn’t all day. I reached for the phone and placed my order. Dropping the phone, I sat back on the bed and stared at the fridge while my mind raced.

“How did I get here? How did I become this guy?”

I thought to myself and then I was covered in anger and disappointment. I got up and emptied the mini bar in my fridge into my system. I was now buzzed. I was heading to my bed to lay down when I heard a knock on the door. I stopped in my tracks and stared at the door for a bit while my body tried to stay still.

I made my way to the door and slowly opened it. It was Cynthia.

 “What took you so long?”

She asked as she pushed me into the room. She came up close to me and gently whispered.

 “Did you miss me?”

I said yes as I lay on the bed and she climbed on me…. I placed my hands on her catching a short view of my wedding ring… Sigh.

It all got hot, really hot, really fast.

Be my 150th reader to comment and I’ll write you into the upcoming part. Btw, we only a few views shy of 10,000!!!! Make it happen y’all. I swear I do this for y’all to enjoy. Thank you for the support, love and everything else. YOU ARE AMAZING.

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Lookout for Part 2 of TRAPPED next Saturday

@ADEWUS4REAL 

© 2014 #WhatTheHeckMan

 

9 thoughts on “Trapped

  1. Ok another epic writing,u really know how to keep us in suspense keep up the awesome writing and I wonder what kind of personality u have off the stories?am guessing it would be intriguing getting to know

  2. I’ve never read anything like this before. You’re ridiculously good at conveying every emotion and it felt so so real.

    I cannot wait for the next part 😊

  3. oh my, I can’t even explain how much I loved this piece. It’s beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. The words the music…everything. I was amazing reading it. I felt like I was literarily living out the words. I felt everything.

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