Fallen Heights 2

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Alright by Jordan Rakei

 

9:21am

My alarm was just on another round of tormenting me when I slowly turned over and looked at it. I almost wanted to throw it across the side of the room. I slid my finger across the screen and the sound stopped. I lay there on my back looking up to the ceiling.

I could feel myself tired like I was examining my body from the outside.
I just didn’t want to get up.

I could feel the minutes pass me by as I continued to stare into open space and then I suddenly got wind within me and I turned over. I sat up and reached for my phone.

I browsed my Snapchat, Twitter and a couple of email updates; the usual as I caught up with the world. Many of you can totally relate to that.

 

I placed my phone next to me and reached for my Macbook sitting to my right side. I picked it up and opened it, the bright screen flooding my eyes as they adjusted to the sudden change in the setting.

The login was quick and I was soon editing a paper that was due at noon but I was scheduled to be in class at that time. I had procrastinated badly and here I was a few hours to the deadline just trying to complete it. I began typing away as I occasionally stopped to edit a thing or two. There was something about waiting till the last minute to do work that usually got me going. It seemed like I was smarter then and suddenly more efficient.

I had tried various ways to stop procrastinating and I’ve still been searching for the medication or healing to cure the disease. Unfortunately, nothing had been successful so far.

About twenty minutes later I was wrapping up the paper and uploading it to the online platform for the class. I sat up right on the side of the bed and looked at my clothes in the closet. I stood up and then headed out my room and down the stairs.

The halls were quiet as majority of the other people in the home were off to handle their various responsibilities. I arrived at the kitchen, my favorite place in the house and pulled open the refrigerator. I bent down to get a closer look. It wasn’t there.

I bent down and looked closer.

It really wasn’t there.

I hissed as I slammed the door shut. I hated that.

I hated when people just couldn’t bring themselves to respect the items and space of others. The leftover bowl of curry chicken and stir fry I had placed in there was gone. One of my foster brothers or sisters must have taken it. I had even marked the container with my name warning people not to touch it. Such uselessness I thought to myself. I considered looking for something else to eat but then I glanced up at the wall clock and realized I was now running late.

9:52am.

I had class at 10:15am.

Come on Jade!

.       .         .         .       .

 

10:15am – 11:30am

Waste of my time in life.

I just fought through the Business Planning and Analysis class.

I fought hard.

To give a crap about everything he was saying and to stay awake. There was something about certain older professors. They loved to talk!

This particular one just could not hold himself. He seemed to me like one of those close to retirement whose wives didn’t listen to him anymore at home. So he would come to class and just continue to go off the topic of lecture and just yap away.

I actually felt sorry for him but not on days like today. I was tired but this was my final year. Every class was important.

I sipped from my cup of coffee that I had picked up on my way to class.

They had messed up my order. It was meant to have no sugar in it. Straight black but upon arriving to pick it up, it had sugar and even milk. I was running late and I needed something to keep me up, so I managed it but I was quite pissed off.

I was just about to turn my phone over when everyone started getting up at the same time. Class was over.

I picked up my phone and grabbed my bag as I began to head out the door. There was an alert from my bank that came in as a message from Zoey arrived in my phone. I opened it up and it read. I was so tired I even had a typo in our conversation that just made me giggle

The science building was the newest building on campus. They had increased our tuition twice over the course of the last three years to accommodate the financial demands around the completion of the building.

It was a state of the art building decked out with solar panels and 3D screens for more advance technological needs in the classroom. It also simply had a sense of “newness” to it.
I felt somewhat slighted when I saw the schedule for the new semester which was my last and I noticed that none of my classes were scheduled to be in that building.

Oh well.

I was going to have to get my use of the building some other way.

The top floor of the building was expected to house the new science department and their offices, but there was some carpeting being done so nobody was actually visiting the floor. Trust Zoey to have figured that out. I wasn’t sure if it was the freak in her that caused her to locate the spot or the fact that she was on the school’s diversity group. Somehow, she had arrived at the fact that the place was open and available for use. The floor was quiet and empty that day and as reluctant as I was to go there, we had limited options.

We had been caught in the library once by a student who was gracious in keeping his mouth shut or maybe it was just the girl on girl action that left him speechless.

I walked into the restroom. I called out her name and I followed her response into the stall at the back.

No words were exchanged as she smiled and stared at me. There was a way her blues eyes invited mine. It was like I was floating on the open sea leaving behind the white sands of a Caribbean Island. Her lips were pink and full. Blooded with passion and warmth; so colorful her face reminded me of my Art history class as we discovered Ancient art and the wonders of color and finesse. I was left amazed as her lips touched my delicate skin and didn’t leave markings of their color. She was gentle.
Her brass seemed to only lay in her freakiness but her skill in making my body feel like her canvass as her tongue acted as a brush. She was an artist. I was the art.
And that was how she made me feel when she looked at me and when she touched me.
The heat in her breath blazing through her nostrils. Her breathing was short as she licked and continued to breathe through her open mouth.
They had installed a baby changing station in the bathroom and that was where I sat. She sat on the toilet seat with my pink staring her right in the face.
I was wet.
Really wet.
She seemed to effortlessly get me to the edge of my sexual bridge and then her works would push me over. She would obviously then dive in after me and drown herself in my wetness.
I cupped my breasts in my left hand as I held onto her head. She continued to smile as she feasted on my wet.
The way she ate me was like she was enjoying pomegranate seeds; bursting juices into her mouth with each lick. I couldn’t contain myself.
My moans were loud. Her breath heated up my lips.
Her lips caressed mine with such love. I was lost in her getting lost inside me. She pulled her fingers to the party and spread me open. There was a way she slid her fingers in; her index and middle fingers. Her thumb provided the outer support as it flickered over my throbbing clit.
I was close to yelling. The pleasure was too much. I was tired in my classes earlier but she was definitely waking me up. Waking up all the senses within me.
I couldn’t understand how she did it each time. My mind raced as I tried to catch my breath as her fingers spread into the depths of me.
Then she stopped.
She looked up to me and said,

“You’re going to spray all of your juices all over my fucking face”

I nodded sheepishly as she slid her fingers back inside of me. I swear I felt my spirit leave my body.
In that particular moment, I was hers. She was pumping and twisting her fingers inside me as my eyes rolled back. I didn’t even know it was coming, I just felt my hips buckle and lock. I was grabbing onto the rail as I was yelling out cuss words and spraying all over her face.
She didn’t move. It all just flooded her face and her hair.
Then she stood and walked to the front of the restroom and flicked on the light switch. She came back into the stall and had a smirk on her face while my legs continued to shake. I couldn’t understand my body but it all felt so good.
She came towards me and kissed me on my forehead and said,

“You better get dressed. You’re going to be late for class”

All I could think was,

“This bitch! You know I can’t walk right now”

I slowly stood up clutching the rail for dear life and began putting my clothes on. A few minutes later we walked out of there like nothing happened. She walked with me to my next class and said,

“See you later?”

I nodded, still at a loss for words.
I walked into my class wide awake and ready to learn. There’s nothing like a midday quickie to rejuvenate you. Or in my case, to realign your insides.

My second class was actually more fun or engaging. I wasn’t exactly sure why. Maybe it was because it was discussion style or the professor clearly wanted to get inside my pants. He was always looking at me. Smiling funny and wanting me to come to his office hours. Everyone has always wanted something from me but I was the one that had the least to give. At least I thought. Till I realized how much my body was worth to them.

This professor was actually young and good looking. To be very honest, I actually wanted to see what he could do to me on his office table. I was day dreaming and then I received Zoey’s text asking me to come and spend the night at her house.

I didn’t want to because I knew I had to “work” that night. I texted her back letting her know that I had therapy and choir practice. She knew it was true but she didn’t know that I had other “work” related things to do after.

.     .     .       .      .       .

One of the services I was receiving by being a foster child and ward of the court was individual therapy. Like many other kids in the system, I had gone through a few different ones. I actually liked the one I got to talk to now.

She was easy to talk to and one of the few that continued to work with kids after they aged out of the system. She wasn’t rigid. Extremely flexible and slowly she peeled back my stoic attitude. I was so closed off. Not wanting anyone to come into my head. I didn’t want to be exposed and seen as a failure or as the weak one.

When I got referred to her, I was about 17. I had just moved into a new foster home.
It had been a few weeks and I had not gotten a single hit of the drugs I was on. Marijuana and some polished version of Crystal Meth. I think the new environment didn’t actually trigger me like it would have done to others but it served to distract me. I didn’t realize I hadn’t done any drugs for three weeks. The trigger was that I had stumbled on the email sent out by my current foster mother at the time, complaining about me and how she was not sure that she could handle me. I felt my heart sink so far into the depths of darkness.

So that evening, I went out and stayed out late. I got so high; I passed out on the park bench with a friend. The police were called.

Since I was a ward of the court, they reviewed my case and mandated me to therapy and I have continued ever since.

……

STOP!!!! YOU SEE THAT SMILE ON YOUR FACE RIGHT NOW. PRESERVE IT O. YOU BETTER PLAN TO COMMENT AT THE END OF THIS STORY OR ELSE. Idk what will happen o!

 ……

Lay Me Down by Sam Smith

 I walked into the room and placed my bag to my right as I placed both hands on my lap.

I looked up to my therapist. She smiled and said,

“How are you doing, Jade?”

I smiled back and said,

“I’m okay. Yourself?”

“Good good”

She replied before she started asking me certain questions.

“How’s your mood been lately? Felt any urges or triggers?”

She was asking about me relapsing. I had been clean for 8 months. Many times people had asked me for my motivation for staying clean but I never told them. It was because of my sister.

She was smart and on track to graduate from high school a year and half early. She had colleges lined up for her and even though we never grew up together because my mom gave her up once she was born because she had me, she and I stayed close for the past two years.

I didn’t have many things in my life but I had her and I wanted to make her proud to have an older sister like me.

So I stayed away from the drugs and focused more on school. I wanted to give her something to live up to.

“No I haven’t”

I replied barely smiling.

She nodded and wrote something down as she asked,

“What about Ms Lecia and the home? You barely talk about them”

She was right.

I always kept Ms Lecia and everyone else in the home out of my business and theirs private. For some reason, it just made my life feel compartmentalized but I guess that’s why today, I was shocked when I started to want to talk. And there I was telling her my full story of how I got to Ms Lecia. I started out saying,

“Ms Lecia and I found each other and she was there when no one would take me. I was at court shortly before my 18^th birthday and it was a review to talk about what would happen to me once my birthday came. I would age out of the system, be too old for certain services and I would have to reapply under something else. I was nervous. I really was.

No other places wanted to take me.

I had given up home and began to wonder if they were going to send me off to some far away state where I would be completely forgotten. And then it happened.

Ms Lecia spoke.

Everyone in the room was quite shocked because although she primarily took girls into her foster home, they were mostly always younger than my age. I felt a sense of relief once she said that.

It felt like an unexpected lifeline.

And a few days later, I was living with Ms Lecia in the current place we live in. Not much has changed since the first few nights when I moved in except that my room has moved upstairs, Ms Lecia beat breast cancer and her prostitution ring in the community is booming.

It was gradual and very slow. Nothing was forced on me. The walk into the world of prostitution was extremely controlled by Ms Lecia.

About a month into living with her, she came into my room in the dead of the night. I was still sharing my room downstairs then with a girl named Nicole. Ms Lecia sat on my bed and gently woke me up. I wondered if I had done something wrong because it was usually in the dead of the night she would ambush one of us if we had failed at something. She placed her finger over her lip, motioning to me to stay calm and quiet. Then she began her speech. The speech was about how I had potential and I was beautiful and all I needed to do was spend a few hours with certain men she hand picks and they are safe but they need company. There was no mention of money involved or sex but it has been almost 4 years and there have been a lot of men, money and sex.

There was something about the way she talked to me. She knew that in my heart I knew that after her, I had no other place to go. That reality alone drove fear into me and made me follow all her rules. She was the Queen of confidentiality. Her motto was that unless there was a gun to your head and the trigger just got pulled, NEVER SELL OUT THE PEOPLE YOU LOVE.

That line has always held true for me. Never would I snitch on someone I cared about and I had gotten in trouble many times for it. Even with Ms Lecia.

When Ms Lecia was done with her talk that night, she patted my head and told me to go to sleep. I couldn’t imagine how I was going to sleep after that. I was young but I was old enough to know what she had asked me to do.

I lay there wondering how to feel about it and then Nicole from her bed said,

“It’s not as scary as you think; many of the men are really really nice”

And she was right. Many of them are but I’m starting to want more for myself, for my sister, I’m starting to want a future. I want to be more than a foster kid. More than a project for the state. More than a pay check to a foster mother. I want more.”

I looked up at my therapist. She had this stunned look on her face.

She could not believe all that I had just told her. She soon noticed that she had her mouth ajar and was not speaking. She closed her mouth, swallowed hard and then said,

“Ummm… Jade, you have shared a lot today. Some of which is somewhat disturbing to hear as a professional. How are you feeling?”

I scanned her from top to bottom twice and then I said with a smirk on my face,

 “You remember that privacy release you signed right and how everything in here is confidential?”

She nodded and then I picked up my bag and began to head for the door. I stopped, turned around and said,

“Thank you”

She said,

“Wait Jade, I just have to ask. With all that you have told me, are you going to be safe? Any chance you might want to harm yourself or others? I have to ask.”

I looked at her said,

“Even if I did, why would I tell you?”

And I walked out the door.

I was confident that I was rude in my response to her but I felt a huge weight off my shoulders. I had let go of a lot of the things I held in. I guess it was because I knew I would soon end it all. I had to leave my heart the lightest it could be.

 

.       .       .       .       .       .

Talking to her was better than any high and made me feel needed more than being with any man. My younger sister Julie was truly everything to me.

“Did you turn in the other applications yet?”

I asked her.

“Not yet sis. I’m still waiting for GPA verification form from the school office and then I can send it because they’ll need it for the scholarship application”

She responded trying eagerly to explain to me before I went off on her.

“Okay just make sure you get it in by Monday or Tuesday. How is everything else going?”

She didn’t immediately respond.

“Julie!”

I called out to her.

“Yes sis. Sorry I’m reading something”

She responded.

“Read it after, you know I’m late and I’m out here talking to you”

 “Sorry sis. I just need the money for the college tour and my prom dress and that’s it”

I smiled.

My sister was actually going off to a proper university and prom? She was going to prom!

I couldn’t have felt any happier and even though she was in a different state, I was going to make every effort to be there.

“Okay, I’ll send the money to your account once we get off the phone. Make sure you send me pictures of all the dresses you want to pick from so I can help you choose and also make sure you grab full admission packets from every school you go to. Okay?”

I could hear her smile over the phone at my over protectiveness.

“Yes mother. I will do as you have asked”

She mocked me as I smiled back and said.

“Alright beautiful. Make sure you continue to be good. Say hi to Sandra and her husband for me. Remember, you can do anything you put your mind to and you are beautiful inside and out. Never let anyone tell you different”

We exchanged goodbyes I ended the call.

8:04pm Friday night.

I walked into the building and walked between the rows of chairs towards my seat in the back as I sat down.

I couldn’t stop smiling at the conversation I just had with my sister. She always brought a smile to my face. I was so thankful I had her in my life and thankful that she was well adjusted and living a fairly normal life.

I received a text from Ms Lecia. My directions to my next “assignment”.

 

 I stared at the phone in disgust. I wanted to quit so badly but where would I go? I didn’t have enough money saved up yet. I took a deep breath in and then I heard Daryll the pastor’s son and choir leader say my name over the microphone. He was walking towards me and then he stopped right in front of me. He looked down at the microphone and turned it off.

He said,

“Hey Jade, thanks for finally showing up. I’ve been covering for you for the last 45 minutes. Did you forget that you’re leading the song with John on Sunday?”

I looked down and then back at him.

“Crap! I’m sorry. I didn’t forget. I was just taking care of some family stuff.”

“It’s cool. At least you’re here now”

He said and continued,

“So are you ready to do this?”

He looked at me. I said nothing.

I looked down at the phone and the message from Ms Lecia still on the screen. I looked back at him and then to the rest of the choir up on the stage.

I turned to him and he had the microphone stretched out towards me. I collected it from him and replied Ms Lecia.

My voice shortly after belted out the speakers. Did you just judge me?

Haven’t you seen many sinners in church lifting holy hands on Sunday after club nights?
Yeah, my thoughts exactly.

 

 

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Fallen Heights

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 ⟹ ⟹ ⟹ PRESS PLAY HERE BEFORE READING

The One That Never Comes by Asa

 

I can feel the wind in my hair.

It’s really amazing the things you can see from up here. The lights, the cars, the homeless people and these bars that I cling on to.

I can feel the chill on my skin and the goosebumps that come from within. I have my arms stretched out wide, they feel like wings. From up here, I feel like I can soar above all my troubles and straight into my dreams.

I had those once, I really did. Dreams.

They gave me a purpose, something to dig deep within and fight for my shot at the table.

Those lofty dreams made me want to fight everyday to say that I am able but all the things life threw at me have made me unstable.

That is at least what the reports will say when they find me here.

Dead.

I couldn’t fathom getting to this point but I guess I always knew that my hopes at a successful life were truly dead before I was fed through a tube in my mother’s womb.

I have seen life, I tell you I have and even at 22 I can count the amount of times I have truly smiled from my heart.

You might be wondering why I am talking to you like this. Like there is absolutely no hope or no better plan to exist.

So let me tell you my story while walking you through my last 72 hours.

Maybe then, you would understand a bit more.

This road has been really tough but I gave it my all.

My name is Jade and I’m about to jump to my death.

.        .        .        .          .           .

 

I could feel the sweat trickle down my chest and between my breasts. Bouncing up and down I placed my hands on his chest. I controlled the pace as my fingers, sweaty and sticky rubbed all over his face.

He had both his hands on my butt. He was clutching them so tight because he didn’t want to cum but I was soaking wet and I knew he wouldn’t be able to contain himself.

I moved his hands off my butt and placed them on his sides. I placed my hands on his chest, dug my fingers deep into his skin and I was sure the sweat found its way into the openings. Sending the right amount of pain through his body, I turned my head backwards and began to ride him like a race horse. He had his mouth wide open but no words came out. He was desperately trying to avoid busting that nut.

I looked down at him and continued my pace and did not let up.

Then his pelvis area locked up. He clutched the sheets and began to cum. His silence turned to grunts as he splashed his warm seed into the condom. He was panting for air as I slowly got off him and laid in the bed next to him. His member went limp. It was respectable but not enough to drive me off the brink. Or have my pussy dripping to the point where I couldn’t think. It did an “okay” job and that was mostly enough.

He slowly got up and walked to the bathroom. He snapped off the condom and I heard him flush it down the toilet. He didn’t trust me.

He didn’t trust anyone.

He especially didn’t trust any woman.

My regular on Friday’s he was consistent. That was how he built his multi-million empire.

Well, his ex empire. He built it from the ground up back in Connecticut almost twenty years ago straight out of college. He and his partner made millions from growing and exporting apples for hard ciders.

It was finalized two years ago that his wife took half of his share of the company in their divorce but more depressingly, she decided she wanted to share it with his business partner.

He was forced out of his own company taking only a quarter of all he built.

 

Those were the kinds of stories I heard around here. Well in between all the noise and all the sex.

He climbed back into the bed and put his hands around me as my back felt the pointy strands of hair poking into my soft skin.

Spooning for a minute, he then said in his deep and attractive voice,

 

“I’m ready to go again”

“Have you put it on?”

Referring to the condom and he said yes.

I moved back a little closer into him and lifted up my right leg to make his entry easier. He began to slide in and out doing what he wanted. He held my waist as he continued to thrust and I clutched the sheets. It seemed like his package was harder this time and it was hitting my spot. I clutched the sheets and bit down on the pillow. In that position, each thrust felt deeper and deeper. I couldn’t find the words to moan. I just held tight and tried not to lose my mind.

That position was long but then he began to cum and that was when I finally opened my eyes. I could see the city from where I lay. The stars in the sky and there I could feel my hope slipping away, one at a time.

He took off the condom and did the same routine as the last. He got back into the room as I was half asleep and he asked,

“Are you staying?”

I said

“No”

As I got up and began packing my things and I got dressed. He walked over to the table and placed some money next to my bag. I looked up to him and smiled. He didn’t smile back.

I picked up my stuff and gave him a hug.

“Same time next week”

He said.

I nodded and headed into the hallway. I pushed the button and the elevator cab showed up shortly. I hopped in and yawned. I was extremely sleepy. All I could think about was getting on that bus and sleeping for the hour long ride it would take to arrive at my house.

 

I stepped out into the street. It was cold.

The bus stop was about a quarter of a mile to my right. I began walking there in my heels while my jacket covered the rest of my body. I waited for a few minutes at the bus stop and I hoped no one would show up. Morning was coming upon us and seconds before the bus showed up, a lady with a crying baby in the stroller rolled up next to me. I was hoping they were not getting on the same bus as I was. It was Friday at 4:37am. What was this lady doing out with a kid so early?

The bus stopped in front of me and they got up. I knew they were going in the same bus now and I grumbled.

I waited until they got on and then I did. I walked right past them all the way to the back and sat down. I picked up my headphones out of my bag and placed them in my ears to drown out the sound.

The ride must have only been a few minutes in when I felt a gentle tap on my thigh. I woke up from my sleep and opened up my eyes, I looked at the lady who had a kid in her hands bouncing him up and down. She looked at me apologetically and said,

“I’m so sorry to disturb you but do you have any wipes? My baby just puked all over herself”

I reached into my purse and handed her my makeup wipes. She thanked me and began to her seat as I smiled. As she left my smile slowly vanished and the music again reached my mind.

I remembered a time when I was not the one being asked if I had any wipes but I was being cleaned up. It was one of the most horrible times I can still think of.

 

.       .       .       .       .         .

Written In The Stars Instrumental- Original song by Ed Sheeran

“Hold still and do like this”

She modeled how she wanted me to puff out my cheeks. I looked up to my county worker as she cleaned my apple sauce off my chin. I had made a mess and spilled it all over my face and my dress.

She smiled back at me as she cleaned like it was no stress.

I was about to turn 7 that summer.

There I was sitting on the floor in the waiting room of the courthouse. The deposition was going on with the county pushing for my removal from my mother’s care.

They cited emotional and physical neglect as their reasons for wanting to put me into foster care. I obviously couldn’t understand anything that was happening at the time. I just remember the police had come to my house one night when my mom was gone. She had been gone for almost two days and I hadn’t eaten anything the whole time.

My mother was a serious heroin addict and at one time she worked as a distributor for MDMA; selling the drug popular known as “ecstasy” or more recently “Molly”.

My mother ultimately passed two days before my 16^th birthday which was also around the time I started “dating”. But that is a story for later.

She had conceived me while she was homeless and living in and out of homeless shelters and car wash bathrooms. She tidied up her act a bit after I was born and the first Child and Family Services report was made by a random lady that saw my mother living behind a McDonald’s with no proper care for an infant.
When my mother died, I felt alone in the world. It felt really cold. But as you might have gathered already, I was conceived in the harshest of conditions.

The social worker returned and my mother and I got into her car. She tucked me into my car seat and walked around the car. She got into her seat and the tears immediately began to flow. The car swerved a few times as her eyes were drowning in the tears. There was sadness written across her face and there was sorrow in her heart. I couldn’t understand what was going on. So I did what she always taught me to do, ask questions.

“Mummy, are you okay?”

She glanced back and wiped her face. She sniffed a few times and then said,

“Yes baby. Mummy is just sad right now.”

I knew what it looked like to be sad but knowing why people felt that way? I still hadn’t grasped then.

“I’m sorry mummy. Everything is going to be okay. Okay?”

I tried to comfort her from my world away in the back seat. She smiled and said,

“Thank you baby”

She seemed to pull it together and she kept driving until we hit the next red light. I don’t know if it was because we had stopped but suddenly she couldn’t control herself anymore. Now she wasn’t trying to hide her tears anymore. She was heartbroken and I knew it.
She turned the corner and pulled into the driveway. She cried for a few minutes straight and I just sat there in silence. I felt something for her but I didn’t know what to say.
I believed that she must have exhausted much of her tears or just come to terms with reality that she came out of the car and removed me from the car seat. We headed into the house and I went towards looking for the remote control while she went into my room and began packing.
Vacation maybe?

I just kept flicking through the channels and then about 25 minutes later she returned with a packed bag that she left by the front door. She came towards me and crouched in front of me.

She turned the television off and turned towards me placing both her hands on my cheeks and then she said the words that essentially led my life down this path.

“Jade, some people are going to come. You are going to stay with them for a while till mommy can come and get you, okay?”

I innocently asked with a confused look on my face, 

“But mummy, why?”

She knew that question was coming.

She looked me dead in my eyes and said,

“Because baby, the court has things they want mummy to fix, okay?”

I truly wished she had not used those words because I spent the last few years of my life trying to “fix” myself. I have been at war with myself and never been comfortable in the woman I was. Something was always missing or something was never good enough.

I didn’t understand what she meant by the court and as I was about to inquire some more about what she meant, I heard a knock on the door.

My mother got up and walked out of the room and she returned with three people; one woman and two men. She stood behind all of them and covered her mouth as she began to sob.

One of the men picked up my bag while the lady walked up to me with the man closely behind her. I began to piece together that they were coming to take me away. I bent down and squeezed my hands together.

The lady came in front of me and just like my mother had done earlier, she crouched in front of me and said,

“Hi Jade, my name is Angela and I’m a social worker from CFS. You’re going to come with us now okay?”

I really loved the way she smiled at me as she spoke. It made me feel comfortable in believing the improbable. They were taking me away from my mother.

“Can you come with us, please?”

She said. I looked up straight at my mother without blinking once. I just stared at her like I was waiting for her super powers to kick in and she was going to jump up and save me.
But she stood there and continued to cry. I realized then that there was nothing that was going to change that moment. I was going to be taken away.

 

Angela, the social worker, stretched out her hands to me. I looked down at it and looked up and my mom again. Nothing.

I placed my hand in hers and I got up. We were just about walking out of the door with the man holding my bag outside the doorway and the other man behind Angela and I. I could still hear my mother sobbing behind me when I snapped out of Angela’s hand.
It seemed like the man behind us was expecting for something to happen because he immediately dropped his hands and tried to catch me. I ducked left and ran to his right barely missing his grip. With all my might, I clung onto my mother’s foot as she bent down to hug me. She held me tight. I thought she would never let go but then she did. I kept trying to cling on to her as the man pulled me off her.

“Mummy!!!!”

I yelled in a pleading tone. Asking her to step in and save me. 

“Mummy, I don’t want to go. Please don’t let them take me away!!! Please!

I promise I’ll be good and do my homework.”

I continued to yell at the top of my voice. The neighbors were now standing outside and looking on. I continued to yell and wail hoping that someone would come and stop them. Nobody came. They just looked on.
The man tried to force me into the town car and I kicked and screamed while Angela held the door open. He was strong but the emotions coursing through my veins made me stronger. I continued to fight until they put me in the car. Both men on each side of me in the back seat, I was inconsolable. I turned around and looked out the rear window. There was my mom in the driveway with our neighbor and they were consoling her. I stared on and couldn’t understand it. I wanted to yell more but I couldn’t.
The car pulled off and that was it. It would be a bit over a year before I set my eyes on my mother again. And I was never in her care again from that day going forward.

Angela turned the radio dial and stopped at a kids bop station and the song playing was a children’s rendition of “I’m Coming Home”. I was all cried out. No more tears to give the world.

I leaned to my left and onto the side of the man. He fixed my ruffled hair as my eyes batted. I was being driven to my new home; into a new world of uncertainty.

 

.         .       .         .         .         .

I heard the brakes and then the pumps as the doors automatically opened. I was at my stop.

I got up and walked from the back of the bus and got out.
My house was about eight houses down. I began walking towards the house. It was just after 6am.
6:06am to be exact since I’m walking through a timeline.

As I got close to the house, I stopped and opened my bag. The wad of cash the man I had just left had given me was still there. I counted it.

A “respectable” $1,500 for a good nights work in uptown San Diego and I was worth every penny. The things that man had me doing all night were just ridiculous but I had a job to do and I followed through.

I counted $300 out of the money and slipped it into my socks.

I counted the rest of the money and tucked it away gently into my bag.

I continued walking towards the house as some of the students began leaving their homes to being their walks to school and catch their respective buses. I was thankful that for all my years in foster care, I continued to go to school and I successfully made it to college. I tapped my pocket and pulled out the key. Opening the door, I let myself in. My foster brother Brian was just walking down the stairs. He was in his usual grumpy mood as he walked passed me without even raising a brow. Out the door he went and into the kitchen I did. I placed my backpack on the kitchen table and opened the fridge.

I grabbed my cup off the dish rack and rinsed it. I must have not heard anything while the water was on because I turned around and there she was.

“Good morning Ms Lecia”

I said as I placed my cup on the table

 “Jade, how are you?”

I gulped the last of the rest of the orange juice and placed it down on the table.

“ I’m okay Ms Lecia”

“How was the night?”

She asked as she sat at the kitchen table. I reached into my bag and pulled out the money and handed it to her. She smiled and she counted,

“You did well last night. Well done”

I smiled back and said nothing as I zipped up my bag and headed for the door. Then she said

“Is this all he paid?”

I turned around and with a straight face I said,

“Yes”

She smiled and said okay.

“Remember that phone you said you wanted?”

I nodded as she continued,

“I’ll get it for you, okay?”

I smiled and said,

“Thank you”

I was already out the room when she called my name.

“Jade”

I responded and came back and then she said,

“You know mummy loves you right?”

I smiled outwardly as I cringed inside and replied,

“Yes, I do”

I exited the room and headed up to my room. I began taking off my clothes and I pulled the money out of my socks and pushed it into a hole I had created inside the mattress on the corner facing the wall. I pulled out the money I had there before and rolled the new cash into it and then stuffed it back in. I hopped into the shower where I scrubbed like I had just had an encounter with a skunk. Everything needed to come off; all my filth and dirt. I kept thinking about my mother; my real mother and then my sister. I had just found out about two years prior that I had a sister that my mother had never told me about before she died. The usual morning weeping session began as you might have figured by now, I have cried a lot. I headed out the shower and into my room. Of the kids living in the home all 5 of us, I was the only one that had a room to myself.

I dried myself off and crawled under my sheets. I turned my cell phone over and the time said “6:58am”.

I was about to place the phone down when my girlfriend texted me,

“Hey baby, good morning. Hope you slept well. I just wanted to say I love and I can’t wait to see you for dinner tonight. Have a great day.

Z.”

I smiled as I placed the phone down.

Her name was Zoey. She was amazing.

Please don’t judge me, you don’t know enough; yet.

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Selfish 3

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 ⟹ ⟹ ⟹ PLAY THE SONG BEFORE YOU START READING

 

Elevation ft. Shaydee and Yung L by WizzyPro

 I sat down on Fola’s couch, which I would eventually become very familiar. She was getting me a glass of water as I took in a deep breath. She began talking,

“So did you guys argue or something?”

I sighed and said,

“No we didn’t. Well she asked me to give her money to go to New York and I said no. She got mad and called the police. They issued an order telling me to stay away from her. So here we are. I needed a police officer to escort me out of my own house Fola. I still can’t even believe it.”

She came and sat next to me placing her left hand on my right shoulder as she handed me the cup of water.

“Bada, I’m truly sorry about all of this. I can’t even begin to imagine how it feels. This is horrible and she’s just trying to ruin you. But those of us that care about you will actually be here for you all the way. You can stay here as long as you need to. You’re like family here.”

I turned over and gave her a hug. She was warm. She smelled like flowers.

Inviting.

The hug held for a bit and then we broke off as she rubbed my back. She got up and walked towards her room and stopped. She turned to look at me as she said,

“You know after Yemi. I was confident that you would end up in a happy marriage. I guess the marriage is truly in every sense of the word a couple’s thing. There are some truly evil people out there.”

 I shrugged and leaned back into the couch. Flicking through the channels, my eyes grew heavy. They closed for a bit as I fought sleep. The next time they opened, it was morning.

 My shoes had been taken off and my computer and phone charged. Fola had gone to work but she had taken care of all that I needed to get going. I smiled in appreciation as I got ready for work.

The ride to work was shorter as I was driving against traffic coming from Fola’s house. I couldn’t stop thinking of what Fola said about Yemi. Yemi was my ex girlfriend, the one before my most recent.

 

.       .       .       .       .         .

 I was on my lunch break eating by myself in the corner of the office lounge when I started thinking about what Fola had said the night before. Surprisingly, it was Fola that introduced me to her 7 years before. Yemi and I had been dating for 6years when I called the relationship quits. It had gotten extremely serious and all I could see was the lifetime decision of marriage on the horizon. I wasn’t ready and I immediately wanted to back out.

Slowly, the fights became more frequent. Her mother became involved. Yemi moved closer to my apartment. It was barely a twenty minute drive. We became more and more enmeshed in each other. Spending less time with other friends and not really growing a life outside our relationship.

It was only a matter of time. I could feel her slipping away and I was pulling further away too.

As much as I loved her, I just wasn’t ready for the next step. She accused me of cheating and even not wanting to leave the “baby boy” life. The singlehood and the attractions I was receiving from women. Those weren’t the reasons but like Fola knew back then, if I had married Yemi at that time, I definitely would have cheated on her.

Breaking off that relationship was extremely hard but I believed that I did it to not be selfish but I guess thinking of my life and not cheating on her was in some ways selfish too.

Yemi ended up marrying someone else and I remember weeping that day because she was an amazing woman but I just knew I wasn’t ready. I loved her but I had to love her from a distance.

Maybe this was karma trying to get back at me for not being “man” enough to have held on tighter. Sigh.

I was just tired. If what Ada was doing to me was meant to be repayment for breaking Yemi’s heart, it was not fair punishment because days with Ada felt like hell.

 I was walking out of the office that evening when I received a call from my mother. I looked at the phone, sighed and rolled my eyes. I just didn’t want to talk to her at that moment. I knew what she was going to say and that was the main reason why I didn’t want to talk to her.

I took one more deep breath and then I answered the phone.

“Good evening mummy?”

“My son, how are you?”

I obviously couldn’t really tell her how I was. I said,

“I’m fine ma.”

She went to her next question.

“How is work?”

“It was fine ma”

I replied. I knew where she was going but her preliminary questions seemed to frustrate me because she would somewhat dance around what she was calling for.

“I’m sorry to hear about Ada. I heard that you guys were having some difficulty”

SOME?! I couldn’t believe what I was hearing but this was my mother and I was a directive to respect her. I was beyond frustrated with her. I was in this mess because of her.

Well some of it was her fault. I still had the veto power to have said “no” back then but I didn’t. She should have guided me more than she did though but it was whatever. I contained myself and responded

“Things are as they are mother but God is in control”

She was about to respond when I said,

“Mummy, I’m about to start driving. I’ll call you once I stop”

Oh! Don’t judge me! You do it all the time. Act like you don’t blow off your parents sometimes. I wasn’t proud of it but I couldn’t get over the fact that every time I talked to her, I was filled with regret. I regretted ever even taking the meeting with my uncle back then and agreeing to whatever this had now become.

 

The music was blasting loudly through the speakers as I made my way home. I was a few minutes away from Fola’s place when the music cut for a bit between songs, I glanced at my phone and noticed a call coming in. Ugh!

Why was everyone trying to talk to me today? It was Pearl.

Pearl was Ada’s best friend. Why was she calling me?

I quickly scanned my surroundings to make sure that no police officer was lurking around. I picked the phone up and began to talking.

“Hey, what’s up”

A bit of rudeness in my voice; she certainly wasn’t on my list of people to talk to. And considering that she was one of the people I spoke to once Ada started acting out and she didn’t do anything, she wasn’t in my good books at all.

“Bada, I know you’re mad at me. Or don’t even want to talk to me but I was just calling about Ada”

I interrupted and said,

“What about her? I haven’t even spoken to her in over a week. Remember, I’ve been ordered to stay away from her. You were there remember? OR have you forgotten?”

“Bada, I remember what went down but I wasn’t sure how bad things really were until I found out that Ada has been sleeping with my boyfriend.”

She closed her sentence as I pulled back my laugh. It wasn’t surprising to me at that point. I guess the only thing that took me back was the man she chose to do that with. I composed myself and said,

“Oh really? I’m sorry to hear that”

Lying through my teeth, she responded,

 “Apparently, she had been talking to him before she left Nigeria and that was the only reason we became friends. She got close to me so she could eventually have him. Now they have been fucking all over town and he broke up with me”

I fought back a smile and said,

“Pearl, how does this have anything to do with me though?”

She said,

“He now lives in your house”

I had just parked the car and I thought I heard her wrong. I asked her,

“What did you say?”

She replied and said

“Yes. He just moved into your house. He lives with her there now”

The smile on my face was now a distant memory. I asked her why she hadn’t confronted Ada.

She told me that the man was dangerous and into illegal things. I ended the call. I took a couple of deep breaths and then I hopped out of the car. I walked to the trunk of the car. I pulled out my laptop bag and headed into the apartment.

I was fuming.

After all that Ada had done to me, this one struck a nerve.

I was upset that Ada had moved someone into my house and I was sleeping on someone else’s couch.

All I did for her and her family and this was how I was being repaid. I never said a foul word to that woman. All I gave her was love and my biggest mistake was actually falling for her. All I wanted to do now was get detached from her.

Before you crucify me for acting too late, think about the family court system in America. It is corrupt and things are not handled appropriately. The police report showed that I never laid a hand on her yet they put out a restraining order on me.

I couldn’t directly ask for a divorce because it could raise red flags with the immigration department and I could have ended up in jail.

The situation was depressing me at an alarming rate. I was being screwed and paying mortgage for another man to fuck my wife in MY bed.

 

.         .         .       .         .         .

Her Way by PARTYNEXTDOOR

 The next day, I was dressed in all black to work. Black shoes, slacks, button up shirt and I even had my tinted glasses on. Black was always my favorite color to wear but that day it also mirrored my mood to the world. I felt darkness in my heart.

If I tried to divorce her, I could go to jail.

If I stayed and let her run wild, I would be depressed and disrespected from here to the end of the seas and back.

I just felt stuck. I couldn’t focus at work.

It was about noon when I decided to leave the office. All calls were to be directed to my cell phone and I very shortly ended up on the couch in Fola’s apartment; my safe place for the time being.

Fola returned a few hours later and had a surprised look on her face as she noticed me sitting there. I normally arrived at home much later than she did.

“Why are you home so early, Bada?”

She asked,

 “Long day and too much on my mind.”

I replied,

“Wanna talk about it?”

I heard her send out with concern.

I responded with a short

 “Nope!”

She got it and she said,

“That bad?”

And I said,

“Yeah”

As I changed the channel. She didn’t push any further. She walked into her room and emerged a few minutes later and said,

“Get up. We’re going to get ice cream. Don’t even try to say no. It’ll make you feel better”

I grumbled in my seat and said,

“Isn’t that a remedy for only women?”

She had a puzzled look on her face behind her smile as she said,

“Is someone being sexist?”

She stretched out her hand and pulled me off the couch. And out we went.

 

 We were in line at the ice cream parlor and Fola was yapping away next to me. I was not paying any attention to her as I was trying to figure what new flavors I should experiment with when she tapped me on the shoulder. We were at the front of the line and holding up the rest of the people behind us. She called out her order and they began preparing it. She got her cheesecake flavors with Reese’s peanut buttercups broken in with a sweet amount of caramel on top. Pun intended.

I was still looking up to the menu board and about to answer the guy.

I said

 “What does the….”

 Fola jumped in and said,

“He’s going to take forever and still order the same thing. Strawberry and cheesecake with brownies broken in. Can he get that in the Gotta Have It size?

Thanks!”

 I looked down at her and I couldn’t help but smile. But there was something different about the way she looked now. She looked anew. I felt something. That right there was the moment I felt there was something there. I looked down at her again and she said with a huge and beautiful smile across her face,

 “Whatttt?”

 I said nothing and we headed back home.

We were turning the corner a few blocks from her apartment when a man walking on the same side of the street as us walked by. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was wearing her black yoga pants that hugged her hips so perfectly. I couldn’t blame the guy.

I remember she cracked a joke and I teased her that men in her neighborhood were stalking her because she had a great body. She said no. I drew her attention to the man that had just walked right by her and she said,

 “He looked weak. He couldn’t handle all this”

 I laughed as I waited for her to open the apartment up. We walked in and it just felt like a response from me was required and then I said,

  “Well I bet I could”

She was standing in front of her bedroom with the slutiest look on her face and she said,

  “Would you now?”

I smiled and she did too. The she said,

 “I guess we’ll never know”

  and then disappeared into her room.

My dick grew hard. What The Heck Man.

 

I changed my clothes and lay on the couch. Getting outside for the walk and the sugar certainly lifted my spirits but tired out my body. I needed a nap but it was already 7pm. I knew that if I slept then, sleeping later that night would have been a pain but I was tired. I tried to fight it but I finally gave in.

 I woke up from my nap to a couple of missed calls from Ada and my home. I was genuinely surprised and curious about why she was calling me. A part of me thought it was because she just wanted something else from me or had found a new way to drain me of the money I had.

My lawyer had convinced me to just give her what she wanted without trying to extend the process with her.

I kept thinking to myself about going over to the house to see her. I finally decided to call her. I dialed her number. It rang a few times and nobody answered on the other side. That was when I began to worry about her. For various reasons, I was confident that Ada either had a mental condition or she was just evil. Sometimes it leaned towards the former with her erratic and irrational behavior.

I finally convinced myself to go and check on her. I grabbed my keys off the kitchen counter and I was headed out the door when Fola walked out of her room.

“Bada, where are you going at this time? It’s almost midnight”

As she looked down to the couch that had been my bedroom for the time I had been there.

I turned sideways to look at her and almost didn’t want to answer because I was so caught up in my own head but I decided to as she stared at me.

“I’m just going to check on Ada. I got a couple of calls from her and I’m a little worried”

Fola rolled her eyes and scuffed.

“You’re going to go to the house they told you not to go to because she called you a few times. Did she leave a message?

Obviously not. Because she’s a snake and she knows what she’s doing!

Doesn’t she know how to text or leave a freaking voicemail. She had you wrapped around her finger and she’ll continue to play with you until you wake up!”

 I immediately became defensive. What Fola was saying was the truth and it hit hard. It was very possible that Ada was still just trying to mess with me. Afterall, who knew what she was capable of?

She had already done way more than I could have ever expected her to. But something kept pulling me back.

I had been in a vulnerable place the past few weeks and I was just tired of having people peek into my life and even though it was Fola, I didn’t realize when my response came out as,

“ So are you saying I shouldn’t go? What do you know about marriage Fola? The responsibility of having someone tied to you for the rest of their lives. Two families on your back, yet you have to play along and act like you have it all figured out when you clearly don’t. Having to man up in situations when life is clearly and viciously emasculating you. Do you even know what that feels like? To feel like an outsider in your own home? To feel like you cannot place your burdens to anyone?”

Fola stepped closer to me and said,

“Bada, I’m here for you. I’ve always been. I know you’re going through a lot and I can’t sway your decisions and I don’t have all the answers but I know it will get better. You just have to let the people you love hold your hand and help you through this tough time”

I shook my head as I bowed it. Bouncing my keys up in my open right palm, I turned and headed for the door.

I heard Fola speak. Her voice carried a palpable feel of frustration and anger. I turned to look at her as she glared at me. Her eyes burning through my skin as her breaths became visibly shallow. She said,

“You’re still going to leave?! After all I just said. Bada are you that fucking blind. This woman is trying to ruin you. You know what, you’re never going to see it. Until you crash and burn or even die. People are out here staying and waiting for you to wake up and see who truly loves you but you want to stay stuck on that evil thing. You know what?! Go!

Go and get hurt! I’m done being there and fighting for you. For years, I’ve been here waiting for you to finally realize what you needed to do! You’re so fucking blind by stupid love and FOR THE WRONG WOMAN!”

She stormed out of the room and into her room. I heard her lock the door behind her.

I was somewhat in shock. Where did that come from?

I was also a little upset so I turned and continued out of the apartment. I walked around the block in the night cold. What did she mean?

I began to piece things together. I began to paint a picture; one that I had been blind to the entire time.

The feelings I just discovered I might have had for Fola might have been new for me but for her, they must have been there for a long time. I could not believe it.

Every gesture seemed more magnified and meant more. I understand her frustration completely now. I was so blind to it all. I could feel heat gathering inside my heart.

I began to walk faster. I had to fix all of it.

I let myself into the apartment and headed straight for Fola’s bedroom. I tried to open it but it was still locked.

“Fola, please open the door. I just want to talk”

I received no response. I knocked again and still nothing. I returned to the couch after turning the lights off in the living room. I was staring at the ceiling and thinking about everything that had just happened and I desperately wanted to fix everything.

About 10 minutes later, I heard the door lock inside her room turn. The door didn’t open though.

I waited about 15 minutes and then I got up and walked to her door. I opened it and closed it behind me. I walked to the foot of the bed as Fola lay there with her head in her pillow facing the headboard. I pulled the covers off her revealing her toned physique and her perfectly sculpted butt.

She was wearing her blue short shorts and a tank top.

I bent down and began kissing her from the back of her ankles upwards; slowly I reached her left calf and then the back of her left thigh. She began to squirm as my lips planted each kiss on her thigh. I honestly wasn’t thinking very much and for the first time, that made sense.

I arrived at her back, sliding up her shirt. I continued to kiss her. Now I was behind her neck. Her moans were clearer for me to hear and I could feel the heat building up between our bodies.

Then I stopped; she went silent and then slowly turned around. Staring into her eyes, I could see all of her clearly now. I could feel the love. I could almost touch the heat between us.

She didn’t need to say anything. As I looked at her perfect lips, her bold eyes, her braids as they parted around her beautiful face I could feel my dick getting hard between my legs but my heart was working harder.

I wanted to envelope her; not sexually but emotionally. She felt so available to me. So much of me had been deposited into her. She was my best friend and the love I had for her was genuine.

My hands on both sides of her, I towered over her. She continued to look up at me waiting for me to say something. It must have felt awkward in her mind, like she had wanted something for so long and now I was over her and I couldn’t make a move.

I knew what I needed to do. I moved my right hand and placed it on her face as my fingers touched her smooth skin. I leaned in and planted a kiss on her soft pink lips. They were wet and warm. I could feel myself getting lost in them. That one kiss communicated years of unconditional love and trust. I couldn’t believe what I had missed.

I slowly pulled back from the kiss as she opened her eyes and looked into mine.

I smiled and said,

“Fola, I love you too.”

The End

I’m killing of a character in Selfish 4. The question now is, how well do you know your writer? Who do you think I’m going to take out? Do you really know #WhatTheHeckMan

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Selfish

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You’ll only regret it when I get heartbroken 

 ⟹ ⟹ ⟹ PLAY THE SONG BEFORE YOU START READING

Say Yes by Floetry

I hated coming here.

But over the last year or so, I had become a regular.

I just had to get what I needed and go. That was what I repeatedly told myself, except it didn’t always work. Coming here would almost always make me begin to over think my life and my needs.
I would sometimes ask myself why I had to be the broken one.

“Do you need me to get the Pharmacist to explain how it should be taken?”

she asked me.

I looked down at the packages in her hand and thought to myself that it couldn’t hurt to have someone explain it to me. I nodded and said,

“Sure”

She smiled and slid the bags over to her left and parted by saying,

“Somebody will be here to help you shortly”

“Shortly” was never shortly with these people and so I waited. I was starting to get frustrated because I had somewhere to be and a lot to do that day but I kept calm and waited. A pharmacist walked up to me and said,

“How can I help you?”

I had to catch myself and then I said,

“I just needed someone to explain the meds and how I should take them before heading out on my trip”

She smiled and said.

“Oh, you’re going out of the country? Where are you headed?”

It was kind of an intrusive question but her smile just made it okay, I was beginning to answer and then I held back because I knew what her follow up question would be.

“Just to visit some family in Africa”

“Oh cool! I haven’t been back in 6 years. I’m from Ghana”

I smiled. I was actually going to ask her name but she had just given me half of what I needed and reduced my work for me.

“Oh really? That’s where I’m headed too.
I leave tonight. Maybe you should come with me”

I joked.

She smiled as she packed up the meds and said,

“Maybe.”

I turned and said,

“Well have a great rest of the day and I’ll see you at the airport tonight”

I joked as I walked away. She smiled and said nothing.
I headed out the door and began thinking to myself that the old me would have probably asked her for number and been looking to have sex with her or something. But recent events in my life had changed those and I was seeing things in a different light. I then realized she never even explained

.       .       .       .       .

I finally felt like I had gotten everything under control and I was about to leave the office. I wrote some final instructions on a sticky note and placed it on my secretary’s desk. My partner was holding things together for the next 8 weeks while I was gone. I headed out of the building and there she was. Fola was driving my car as she pulled up in front of my office. She was taking me to the airport and she could tell that I was now more nervous than I had been the whole time. It was real now. The responsibility was now on my shoulders but it was now here and I was starting to get cold feet.

She could read it on my face and she said,

“You got this.”

I smiled and said,

“But what if I’m making a mistake Fola? What if this is not how it is supposed to go?”

Fola turned and replied,

“You and your family have been working on this forever. You have covered all the bases, you are doing a great thing for family and for love and I respect it. You have to believe in yourself that you’re doing the right thing and for the right reasons”

I couldn’t stop smiling. There was some confidence in me albeit just for a short while but it made me feel good.

“Fola, you know you’re the best right?”

She laughed as she made a right turn and said,

“Yup! I know I am”

She was right. She was the best; my best friend.

For many years, I had been through so much from self hate, insecurities, battling with depression, anger management and Fola was a huge factor in keeping me grounded and sane.
I could always reach for her to be there for me and she still hasn’t failed me, even when I had let her down before. I was so grateful for everything she had done and was doing in my life.

“Here we are”

She said as she pulled up to the side in front of the airport door. I could hear the airport security continue to read their safety procedures over the public address system at the Seattle-Tacoma International airport.

I stepped out of the vehicle and lifted both my bags out of the trunk and said to Fola as I gave her a peck on the cheek,

“Don’t crash my baby o.”

She hugged me back and said,

“Don’t bring back a baby o”

Into the airport I headed and dropped off my bags in line at the check- in counter. A few minutes later I was at the head of the line, watching the guy weigh my bag and check it in. I was through airport security pretty quickly. They pride themselves in efficiency at that particular airport.
I took my seat at the gate and checked my surroundings to ensure that I was at the right place. I had once missed an important flight because I was seated at the wrong gate.
I was at the right place; I pulled my phone out and started listening to some music as I tried to catch up on some sleep.

I must have nodded off for a bit because when I opened my eyes, there was a line of people boarding the flight in front of me. The lady said over the address system,

“Now boarding flight 2350 from Seattle to Atlanta”

I got up, picking up my bag and got into the line. The line continued to inch forward and soon I was in front of the line. My boarding pass got scanned off my phone and I walked into the walkway to the plane. I squeezed into the aisle inside the plane as I headed towards my seat. I placed my hand luggage in the overhead bin and sat down in my seat.
I took a deep breath and sighed.
I was actually about to go through with this.

.      .       .        .        .        . 

Adanma ft. Ayoola by Shaydee

It was dark and humid when I arrived in Lagos. I remember going through security and just laughing at how much of a joke the personnel was; asking to search my bags and then subsequently asking for money. I even had a phone vendor try to steal from me because he thought I didn’t know the environment I was in. It was actually quite amusing.

My cousin arrived with someone in the car. He came out and gave me a hug. He was like a brother to me. We used to spend every summer I had in Nigeria together and we only grew slower the older we got.

“Baddest!”

That was the nickname he had given me when we were about 16. I hated it at the time but people at my school picked it up and it stuck.

“How was your flight bro?”

He asked as he helped me put my bags into the trunk of the car.

“It was okay bro. Thanks for asking”

I replied as I got into the back seat of the car. There was a guy sitting in the front passenger seat. He introduced himself as Jonathan.
We were about a mile out of the airport when I asked my cousin Dare where Ada was.

“Oh, she said she had a thing in Abuja. She left this morning”

he replied.
I began to think to myself, she knew I was coming in at that time and that was when she decided to up and leave the state. I should have seen the signs then but I couldn’t because I was blinded by what I thought was love or maybe just loyalty.

 

Ada was a childhood friend and the daughter of my father’s high school friend. Our father’s told us stories growing up about how they played sports together, went on adventures with women as a team and even almost got expelled together. Their stories were always full of life and they would captivate our minds each time.

The year prior to this visit I was on, my uncle, now the head of the family since my father passed summoned me and so I went. He talked to me about something that the family wanted my help with since I lived in America. I was not sure what it was, I spent the night at his house and he told me that the next day, we were going to visit my dad’s childhood friend. It was at that meeting that my uncle, Ada’s parents and my mother asked me to marry Ada and bring her to America because her parents wanted her to have a better life and they could not afford to send her.
My initial thought was that I would give her the money for a ticket and she could even stay with me but why did I have to marry her?

Later when I came back to America, the immigration lawyer I consulted with explained it to me better and he showed me how the process would be easier if Ada and I got married because I was an American citizen. It seemed like a deal with minimal risk considering that a lot of Nigerians currently do it. I asked for a few days to think about it and my mom would not get out of my ear. She had sad stories of my dad’s friend Chief Abe, being the only one that believed in my father and such. I was filled with tremendous guilt and a sense of repayment. Before I left Nigeria, I agreed to do it.

I came back to Nigeria about 8 months after; Ada and I had taken pictures and done the necessary things to “sell” our marriage to the American government. Ada and I knew each other, so this wasn’t weird. We had childhood pictures and even pictures capturing memories in our youth. In a way, I just felt it was my way of helping out. The idea was to get her to America, on her feet and eventually on her way.
My girlfriend at the time in America was an African American woman; she eventually broke up with me because she didn’t understand the concept of what I was doing or why I was doing it. I tried to let her know that for the most part, we all helped each other out. That was how we were. She wasn’t taking it, so she left me.

There was a lot about Ada and her family that I didn’t know. Over the course of the month that I was there, I began to learn more and more about her. Some great things and some things I wish I had never heard or seen.
Eventually, the wedding came and passed. It was just the right size; the perfect amount of people, and the perfect amount of rice and plantain to go around for everyone. Our lies were painting the perfect picture for those on the outside looking in.

.       .       .       .       .       .

A few days later, we were in the states. Everything that would happen up until I decided to write this had been crazy.
When Ada and I arrived in America, everything was great. We actually had a honeymoon period and our honeymoon was in the Dominican Republic. It was all going according to plan.
It was about two months after the wedding when things began to turn. To be honest, I was the one that made the first mistake by sleeping with Ada and changing the dynamic of our relationship. I should have just kept it at “business”. Soon enough, I started to develop feelings for her. I tried to fight them, I really did but I continued to fail.

She would be there for me, ask about my day, share intimate moments and vice versa. But abruptly things changed. She would no longer talk to me; there was no food when I returned from work and no sex. We basically became roommates, just sharing the same bed and house but nothing else. I tried to talk to her and figure things out but she turned all my advances down.

It had gotten to the point where I was just waiting on her work permit, so she could get a job and move out. I was tired of being emotionally bullied. I used to be that guy but I saw how many people I was hurting and so I stopped but also because I knew my behavior had to reflect marriage and it’s responsibilities.

We barely spoke anymore unless she wanted to or wanted sex, so I would leave the house in the morning and stay out as late as possible just to avoid talking to her.

This particular day, I had returned from a long day of work.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           I was taking off my clothes and about to walk out of the closet when she came out of the bathroom. I heard her climb on the bed and she asked,

“How long are you going to be in there for?”

I smiled and said,

“Not long. I’ll be out in a minute”

I bent down and pulled off my trousers. I slipped the belt off it and began stringing it into the pair I was planning to wear the next day.

She said,

“Hurry up, I want to cuddle.”

I was taken back. This seemed off.
Something felt off. I couldn’t put my finger on it. The way she was all over me was kind of surprising. Don’t get me wrong, we had our nights where we went all out, crazy and naughty but this one just felt kind of different. This was the 3rd time we were having sex in the week and it was only Tuesday night.  I was tired. Really tired but I mustered up some strength to give her what she wanted. I climbed onto the bed and kissed her. She placed her hands around my head and began to kiss me passionately. The surprise immediately left my mind as my member began to rise. Both my hands were planted on the sides of her as I towered over her. 
I began to lower onto her as she leaned back. I broke the kiss and looked down at her, the room was dimly lit but I could see her bold eyes and her pearly white teeth as she smiled back at me and said with a hint of shyness,

“What?”

I smiled, licked my lips and said,

“Nothing babe”

I looked down and bent her head to the side and began kissing down her neck. Her hair smelled fresh, her neck was lined with an inviting perfume. My tongue marked her neck with kisses as it traveled down. I licked across her neckline. Ensuring that my hot breath was felt as I marked my way down. I could feel her beginning to squirm as I arrived between the towers; her breasts. They stood apart from each other, perked up like upright guards. They were perfect for squeezing and succulent for sucking. So real they almost looked like implants. I took the left one into my mouth and twirled my tongue all over her nipple while the other rested inside the palm of my right hand. I squeezed it gently as she moaned at every pinch of her nipple. I kissed down to her wetness. Slowly licking as I tried to ensure I didn’t miss her sweet nectar. I slowly began to nibble on her clit as she pinned my head down. It just seemed like her drive was much higher than it used to be. I responded by digging my tongue deeper into her. Her moans were louder,

“Bada, Bada, if you stop….”

Don’t you fucking stop”

She placed her right hand on my head as i looked up, I noticed her clutching the sheets; tightly.
She opened her eyes and looked down at me. I winked at her and she said,

“ugh! don’t fucking do that… Right there, right there!!! Don’t move your fucking tongue”

I heard her tone and her grip on my head was enough to send a message. My tongue continued to wag from left to right with speed as I hummed and it vibrated on her clit. A few minutes later, both my hands pinned her down as she let out her latest round of wetness. My tongue lapped it up. She turned around and smiled, poking her ass up to me. I grabbed her cheek and spread them apart as I slowly slid into her. One word; wet. Okay maybe also tight, hot and fucking amazing. I pressed her back down as I began to pound; my balls dripping with her juices as they slammed into her clit. She was looking back at me and saying,

“Fuck me baby. Come one fuck me harder”

I knew it was coming. Her voice always did that to me and there I was. A few thrusts later, I said,

“Baby, I’m about to cum”

She placed her hands under and began stroking my balls as they slammed into her and she said,

“Cum for me baby. Cum all over me”

“Hunghhunghhungh…..”

I pulled out of her and slumped onto the bed. She rolled over and began rubbing my hairless chest and said,

“Babe, can u please buy me a ticket to go to Miami in two weeks”

It all made sense, her fucking me like that.  I looked down at her and said,

“What is in Miami”

She smiled and made circles on my chest in my sweat and said,

“Cindy, my girl from high school in Naij

You don’t know her.”

She was right that I didn’t know her. But I was tired and disoriented so I said yes. Funny how women always know how to ask for whatever they want as soon as the man ejaculates.

We fell asleep in that position.

Three days later, I returned home and noticed that she was gone. I kept calling her phone and there was no answer. Her clothes were still present as were her other belongings.

I was not sure where she was but I was just going about my evening. I washed some rice into the rice cooker to start getting ready while I walked out to the mailbox.

I was walking to the mailbox when my phone began to buzz; it was Ada.

“Ada, where are you? I was worried”

she giggled a bit sounding under the influence and said,

“I’m in Miami b**ch”

I was shocked by the response that I blurted out,

“Miami?

When did you go there or even buy the ticket?”

She asked me not to worry and that it was my credit card that she used. I was still trying to process all that she said and her being all the way in Miami when she said she had to go.

I tapped on the phone to end the call and then I noticed a letter from the courthouse amongst the pile of new mail I had just picked up.
I tore it open and it was our marriage certificate from the courthouse. I held it in my hand and my heart sunk. I couldn’t help but feel like it was all a mistake. I placed my hand in my head and said,

“What The Heck Man?”

My phone buzzed again. It was Fola.

The End.

Ladies and Gentlemen, you have been immense and amazing. Earlier this week, I noticed that my blog #WhatTheHeckMan had gotten over 17,000 views.

Listen to this key part; singlehandedly. No paid promo. No gimmicks. Just stories and YOU GUYS. Here we are, 10 months after the first series I posted with thousands of views but not a lot of comments/feedback but it’s okay “People I luh you…. POP pimp squad, hold it down…”. I appreciate the effort to read though from everyone that supports me and this outler. Even though it can sometimes be work to “keep up or catch up”

I want to thank you for letting me own your TL’s on Saturdays. For retweeting and sharing. For being patient with me as I’ve taken you on various emotional roller coasters. For enjoying my art with me and waiting up on Saturdays for the next part in each series. For #WhatTheHeckMan ,#SanmiSaturdays supporters, I truly thank you. I want to start by thanking the one that has always given me the push to do anything and infact start this blog even though at the time, our interactions were rocking, Arewa F.M.S.
Off the top of my head, let me thank my day 1 supporters.

N’wa, Simi, Ninz, Sinmi, Feddy9ja, Ashake and twinnie, Tonye, Olamide, Lamide, Desewa, Nnenna Chinaija, Bruce Bane, FreshDeltaBoy, Adaeze, Abiton, prettydiva11, Vanessa, KemiO, Tobby_e, Nadia, Beyoutiful_chy, 9jamadea, Ms_DamiAjayi, Rinsola, Words that go unsaid; and everyone else that I missed. Majority of my comments in the past year have come from the people above which means in some way, I trust your feedback and look forward to seeing how my stories impact you guys. To those that have boyfriends that make it impossible for me to shout you out without them coming for my head, thank you also, you know yourselves. lol

Now to my family, thank you for not knowing my blog exists. This is a seriously important piece to everything, at least for now. Anyways, to all those that support me comments or not, THANK YOU. Still leave a comment tho. I swear y’all don’t know what it means to read what you guys think of the things I create. Anyways, have a great weekend everyone.

SHARE THIS STORY AND OTHERS, #WhatTheHeckMan is my baby but you guys are the surrogate mother. Grow it with me. Let’s put these words, music and emotions in everyone’s ears. Till the next time you read from me which is Wednesday (#WordsofWednesday). Stay Up! And if someone tries to run you down, pray MFM prayers to fire them or just say

What The Heck Man

First Recording for #WhatTheHeckMan Audiobooks…

 

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