Tag: voice

Art · Drama · Erotica · Fiction · Life · Sex · Uncategorized

Scarred

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Scarred

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 ⟹ ⟹ ⟹ PLAY THE SONG BEFORE YOU START READING

Don’t by Ed Sheeran

All I had on were my socks.

It was dark and I was trying to find my foot.

It was hot too and kind of small. I was trying to fit.

I couldn’t get enough space to fit my upper body. And I tried to wiggle it in.

There were a few rays of light coming in.

There was just something about dark and tight spaces that got to me. I never felt comfortable in them. I was always trying to break free.

But this time I realized I couldn’t and so I wasn’t even trying to break free. I just let myself go. I had come this far and all I could do was let myself go.

It wasn’t about what I felt was wrong or right but more about what had to happen.

I felt this feeling in my stomach. It was the type you got when a police car’s light goes off behind you but you know you haven’t done anything wrong.

You still get a little nervous first right?

Yes.

It was that same feeling you get in your stomach. You almost can’t control it. You just have to fall victim to the emotion as it courses through you.

I squeezed tighter. I couldn’t let go.

I couldn’t let the feeling slip. I didn’t want to because I didn’t know what came next. The uncertainty.

I slowly pulled back. I gasped for air, which we had used up in that tiny closet. It was then the emanating smell of musty socks hit and burned the hairs in my nostrils.

I looked down at her. She was looking up at me.

Her butt cheeks still firmly in my large hands, I smiled and leaned in.

Closing my eyes, I felt her lips on mine. Soft and smooth, something about their pouty nature had me wanting more. Her lips took my lips into hers as she sucked. I squeezed her butt tighter. She loved how I enveloped her.

And then break. I looked at her and said,

“ Tasha: How long are we going to keep hiding like this? I just want to tell him already. He’s my best friend. He deserves to know. It’s been two months and we keep sneaking behind his back. Look we are hiding out in his closet during his birthday party. It doesn’t feel right keeping this from him. He’s my best friend…”

“He’s my brother…”

she responded, squeezing my hand a little tighter and then continuing;

“We are still trying to figure this all out and I am crazy about you but what if he’s not ready. What if we’re not ready? I don’t think I’m ready yet. I’m really nervous baby.”

She bowed her head down in disappointment. I released her left ass cheek from my right hand and I lifted up her chin. With a warming smile I said,

“It’s okay sweetie. Don’t be nervous. I won’t rush. I’ll wait till you’re ready and then we can tell him. Take your time beautiful. Okay?”

She nodded and flashed a smile. I felt her lips touch mine as I gave her a kiss. She was beautiful even in the darkness.

“You go out first, I’ll be out in a second”

I said to her. She smiled again and opened the closet door and headed back into the crowded apartment condo; her older brother’s house warming and birthday party.

The light briefly rushed into the stuffy closet and the banging bass of the music followed closely behind.

I leaned back into the side of the closet and onto the wall. I let out a huge sigh.

Her brother was going to kill me. He was going to kill me.

I had to say it to myself again. I thought to myself about what I was doing. I wasn’t doing anything wrong per se but he deserved to know. He was my best friend.

I had been warned to stay away from her. But how many times have we been told to stay away from something but we don’t until it burns and scars us?

I was going to treat her different. I wasn’t going to break her heart. I just hoped she didn’t fuck with mine first.

 .     .     .     .     .

There was nothing in the world I wouldn’t do for my brothers; Jules and Jacques.

Jules was from North Carolina and Jacques was from DR Congo but his family moved out to Atlanta when he was 12. We were teammates, turned best friends and turned brothers. Jules was the super muscle, Jacques was fast and I was the brain. I was always thinking steps ahead for the benefit of us all.

Somehow we all ended up in Arizona to play football for our college. Jules was on the defensive end of things while Jacques and I battled for the same tight end position. We hated each other that first summer we spent out there at camp but funny enough that was how we became close.

We were both really good players, blessed with an abundance of speed. We pushed each other. We hated each other as competing players for the same spot but we respected each other also. I wanted the spot and he wanted it just as bad.

We continued to go back and forth for the entire camp, switching on our aggression and determination on the field and being relaxed off it. It wasn’t until the coach let us know about 3 weeks into the season that he was keeping both of us for the season that we warmed up to each other.

Jacques was converted to an out wide receiver. The kid was fast and he had those long Congolese hands. He was for sure the hit of the team. Put anything in and around his wingspan and you could count on him to snatch it out of the air. With his speed, his jumping ability and his willingness to learn out, coach turned him into the most devastating wide receiver on the West Coast.

We ripped teams those two years we played together. I played my tight end position and I was glad we played on the team together. I was amazed at how he caught whatever was thrown his way. Whenever the plays weren’t run for me, I watched in awe of how good he was. It was only a matter of time before he was given the nickname “Octopus” because he caught everything and held on tight.

The name rung true because it was also the same way he was with girls. Reel them in, hold on tight to as many as he wanted at a time. Highest I counted in college was six at one time. Yeah, he was the real MVP.

 

I had met his younger sister Tasha one time while in college. His family had come down to watch us win our division title that year after missing out the year before. It was a bittersweet experience because it was also during that game that Jacques ruptured his Achilles on a bad fall that led to an opponent stomping on him. He was in a lot of pain but he held strong for his family. Jules and I were right by his side.

He caught me chatting up his sister when at his uncle’s house who also lived about 30 minutes from campus. It was his house Jacques stayed at while recovering through the summer when he was in AZ and then the beginning of the school year.

That fall was the end of Jacques footballing career, as the explosive speed he had was never recovered. His nous for the game never left but his biggest asset was gone.

He had a hard time but he channeled his hurt into his chemical engineering. It was one of the best decisions he ever made.

His family left that weekend of the Championship with Jacques repeatedly warning me to stay away from his sister.

 

Years had passed and he had moved back home but every time I came to visit his parent’s house like at Thanksgiving, he’d remind me that his sister was off limits. He did not want me to date her; although we had secretly been in contact but it was nothing serious.

Tasha and I were alike. Somewhat with reputations; I was called Captain Save-A-Hoe and she was well, sometimes referred to as one needing saving.

I had always cherished my relationship with the other J’s as we called ourselves, so I never truly wanted Tasha or at least made it obvious or pushed for it.

For years I had stayed away from her like her brother had asked but it all got really different when she began to intern with my company.

Lunches together and rides whenever she needed one, over that summer, we got close pretty fast.

And then I got to know her very well; on the inside she was this sweet, caring, confused and often-misunderstood young woman but on the outside she put on the glam for the world from her 3digit likes on Instagram to her popularity in the city. It was all a façade.

 

We used to play hide and seek a lot all over town while we avoided her friends and I avoided her brother. He had heard things about her like he was supposed to; he put a blinder to repel it all. After all, that was his sister.

It was about 6:30pm that evening when we finally made it to the front of their house. We had just closed off a long working day. She only had about 3 weeks left of her internship and that evening we were just talking.

She began by asking me what kind of woman I liked. I smiled and paused for a second thinking. I pushed the ignition button to turn off the car. The inner lights went on, she tried to hide like a vampire from sunlight.

I sat back in my seat and began to answer,

“Honestly, I just want a simple woman. One that likes to laugh, kick it, watch movies, independent, focused, caring, a good cook because I love my plantains, great body.

*I paused and smiled*

Well you know why and she has to have a round butt. One that can talk back.” 

She had her head down with a smile on her face and then she responded,

“So you basically described me? Well without the butt at least”

I was taken aback not by the fact that she was being modest; she had an amazing butt and body in general but for the fact that she responded that was period.

I smiled and said,

“Well, I guess you can kinda say that”

she smiled back. And slowly looked up at me, it was then, it was then I knew for sure that I wanted her. I forgot everything Jacques had warned me about her.

I had grown fond of her and I really liked her.

It was quiet. A very quiet neighborhood; except for the bullfrogs making annoying noises from the creek behind their house.

I could see her face. She was so beautiful. I had a quick moment to second-guess myself while I paused and I think she thought I was about to chicken out. So she began to motion as if she was about to leave the car. I doubled back and placed my right hand on her left forearm.

Her skin was silky smooth but cold. She stopped and looked at me. Right then, I opened the door to the next series of events that would change everything.

I leaned in, placed my right hand between her neck and her falling hair and placed a soft kiss on her lips. It was short.

I quickly pulled back. She seemed displeased with me. So she leaned in. Grabbed me by my shirt and she kissed me so hard that my bottom lip bled inside. That was how I knew it was real. It felt like she had wanted to do it for a while.

If a woman you love has never kissed and sucked on your lip till it bled. Sigh… I’m sorry for you.

She got out of the car and pulled her pencil skirt down and swayed to the door. She turned around and blew me a kiss. I had caught serious feelings and I could feel my heart racing now. Shit.

She let herself into the house and a few seconds later the outside lights of the house went on. She must have flicked them on. I started my car and the inner lights went on. I pulled down the visor and looked at my bottom lip. There was a bit of blood on the inside. It hurt a bit but I smiled. Something about that turned me on.

It was weird looking at my own blood. If only I knew that I was bound to shed more.

.     .     .     .     .

Life Support by Sam Smith

Shards of glass were flying all over the place.

I closed my eyes as the darkness enveloped my world. I ducked my head down but I must have been too slow.

I could still hear the music blasting through the speakers but the sounds of shattering glass pierced through my ears.

Piece by piece, they rained over my head. They usually tell you that in near death situations your life flashes before your eyes, mine didn’t. Instead I thought about the things I hadn’t gotten to do yet and imagined myself in those places; skydiving, flying a plane, scuba-diving and such.

The “why am I here?” question briefly floated through my head as I tried to ensure that I made it out of there alive.

I felt a hard hit on the crown of my head as it was in a bent position.

Screeching, broken glass, sharp pains, and then it went silent and then black.

 

It felt tight.

Almost to the point of choking I would say. The voices were faint. I could feel them sailing through the air but not into my ears. It was like I was using my ears for the first time, more importantly, it seemed like it was the only thing working.

I stopped and slowly began to allow my brain to piece things together.

I remembered the glass and being in a car. Putting that together, I remembered the other car and it coming out of nowhere.

I remember putting one hand in front of my cousin because he foolishly wasn’t wearing his seatbelt and I remembered the hit on the bit of my head and upper part of my neck.

My neck.

I signaled to my brain to make contact with my neck. But it was stiff.

In fact, a lot of my body was stiff and in one position; unmovable. Like making calls on the Sprint or MTN networks, my brain hopelessly failed to make contact with parts of my body.

I knew I was lying on my back and the room was brightly lit.

As I decided to give my brain a break from the overtime it was doing trying to make me feel sane, the pain kicked in. I could feel a throbbing in my legs, my left arm was numb and I was stiff.

There was so much I wanted to know. My mind began to race and very quickly it slowed down. I reckoned that because I felt pain in my legs, I wasn’t paralyzed. I feel them; I could feel the numbness in my arms. Sigh. I would be able to walk, I thought to myself.

Imagine trying to figure all this out in a completely dark room. I smacked my lips together and tried to talk. Right then, I felt someone touch me and say my name frantically

“Jerome! Jerome!”

I kept slowly trying to talk while I heard my name even though faintly.

“Jerome! Can you hear me?!”

I slowly began to move my body. And then the voice grew lighter, it went farther away from me. I could still hear what was being said but not clearly.

“Please… some… in…. here!!!”

the person yelled into the hallway. A few minutes later, I could hear more people walk into the room. I figured nurses and maybe doctors.

I could not hear the voice of the original person; it was my baby sister Sonia.

Some voice that I didn’t know said,

“he’s awake” 

I heard my sister say, “Thank you God”.

She was much like my mother. Even though she spoke no English, she worked her ass off to send my sister and I to America to get an education. She was our rock star. She still diligently sent “pocket money” she had been sending since my freshman year in college back in Arizona, it totaled a meager $100. I was averaging 50 times that at my current job as a marketing manager for watch company Magico but she still did it every month just as much as she complained about me going by Jerome in America and not Jibola like she named me. Interestingly, it warmed my heart.

The door opened again and someone walked in. Everyone else went silent. Now I could hear the machines as they beeped in harmony, the voices in the hallway were even more audible now. It was all very strange.

“Jeromeee”

He pronounced my name with his Icelandic accent like it was some cheaply manufactured goat cheese.

 

“We are glad to have you back with us. How are you feeling? Do you remember anything about that day?”

I shook my head from side to side slowly to signal my answer.

The doctor then began talking,

“You were involved in a terrible accident and you have been in comatose state for a little over 5 months. Some key parts of your body were badly affected and while you have slowly made recoveries, there are still some parts that need more work and surgery…”

The doctor stopped talking as if to wait for my response. I slowly parted my lips. My mouth tasted bitter and my lips were very dry. I stretched them and then I called my sister,

“Sonia…”

she responded,

“Yes bro”

I gathered myself and swallowed hard before asking,

“Where is Tasha?” 

My sister sighed and said,

“Bro, let’s not worry about that right now. Let’s just focus on how you can now get back up and going” 

I knew my sister. She was deflecting. She knew I was a very straightforward person and I would not ask questions I wasn’t ready for the answer to. I slowly opened my mouth and asked again

“Sonia, when was the last time Tasha was here?”

she knew she couldn’t lie now. It sound like she was sad as she said,

“she hasn’t been here since the second week you were admitted Jerome”

Her words stung. They pierced right through my soul. I just could not believe them but I knew they must have been the truth. My sister would never lie to me. It hurt but I couldn’t find the tears to cry.

How could the woman I loved have left me for months while she was living her life?

I was confused and feeling a sharp pain in my chest. I turned my head away from the voices that were to my left and presumably I was now facing the wall.

I couldn’t think. The doctor called my name a few times and tried to engage me. It didn’t work. I wasn’t having any of it. Why would Tasha abandon me? It made no sense.

I heard the doctor ask me to get some rest as he asked to see my sister in the hallway. I began to pay close attention to what was being said and I heard the doctor say,

“Miss, the latest scans are still not looking good. He has pieces of glass lodged inside his eyes. In particular he has one dangerously large piece sitting right on his optic nerve in his left eye. It is so delicate that it is barely functioning. It is sending signals to his brain but they are very weak. Also, what is more worrisome for us is that his right eye, which was not affected by the accident, is sending no signals to his brain. Essentially, he is blind in his right eye and till we operate on his left eye, he cannot see out of that too. “

I gasped and clutched my bed sheets. I could hear them clearly. My sister words sounded a bit muffled like her hands were covering her mouth and she asked,

“What are the chances after surgery he can see out of his left eye at least?”

The doctor’s tone was more depressed as he said,

“The specialist told me it was only about a 13% chance due to the extremely delicate positioning of the object but we’ll do our possible best.

I tuned out of their conversation. I could not be blind! I had so much to give. I felt like I had so much to live for. This was not fair. This was not supposed to happen this way.

The pain in my chest felt a lot like being stabbed repeatedly in the same spot. I could not contain it anymore. Lying on my side, the tears began to flow into the cloth that was covering my eyes.

 

It hit hard.

The woman I loved was gone and I could not look into her eyes ever again to take in her beauty or find out why she left. I could never hold my son or daughter and see their first smile or watch them ride a bicycle.

My brain and my eyes might have deserted each other but my heart was speaking to my eyes loud and clear. Its signals were overwhelming; I couldn’t hold back the tears.

 

“Get ready for another emotional roller-coaster. I promise I won’t leave you badly scarred though. Just wanting more.”

                                                                             – @adewus4real

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The End

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Lookout for Part 2 of Scarred next week and #WordsofWednesday midweek.

© 2014 #WhatTheHeckMan

Art · Drama · Erotica · Fiction · Life · Sex · Uncategorized

Imperfect 3

adewus4real16 Comments

Imperfect 3

#WhatTheHeckMan

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 ⟹ ⟹ ⟹ PLAY THE SONG BEFORE YOU READING.

Lay Me Down by Sam Smith

I smacked my lips together. I circled back my thoughts and kept my eyes closed.

The hand was firm but the touch was gentle. It was a man’s hand. I wanted so badly for it to be Damien. How romantic would it be I thought to myself.

My heart was now in my stomach doing jumping jacks and pushups; nerve wrecking and then I slowly opened my eyes.

I turned my head to the left from my aisle seat to look up at the person. The pants were tailored and freshly pressed; I lifted my eyes and scanned upwards. Making contact with his smile as he grinned at me, I smiled back.

It was the flight attendant.

He politely asked me to put my seatbelt on. I looked down and noticed my unbuckled seat belt. I tried to force a smile.

My heart sunk further as he walked away and I clicked my seatbelt into the buckle. I looked down the aisle once more and realized it.

Damien was gone.

.    .     .    .     .

It was great being back stateside. As much as I loved Australia, there was no place like home.

Going back to work felt better too. But I was badly missing Damien and being home with my mother daily was just making me crazy.

My arrival was welcomed at the company and I was given a promotion when I returned and a new office. I even physically moved up one floor in the building.

I was feeling very good about it all.  Work was now my source of joy.

My relationships and my health were bleeding at the time but I was holding on.

One particular evening, I came home to my mother. Usually, I would get off work and take the train getting off at the exit where my gym was located. I would work out and then run home which was about 2 miles away.

This evening, I had a long day at work and I wasn’t feeling up for a workout, so I headed home straight from the office. I could feel something coming over me like I was going to explode if I was even spoken to in the wrong tone.

I walked into the house and heard my mother talking on the phone. She must have been talking to a friend or something. I greeted her as was customary and walked into the kitchen. I was attempting to ignore her conversation that almost always consisted of her bad talking me or saying inaccurate things about my brother and I.

She was talking about my eating habits and how I was the reason my condition wasn’t getting better. She was making it seem to the lady on the phone, that I came home daily and neglected to eat. Neglecting the fact that I was working long hours and on a strict diet and workout routine. I was pissed.

Already amped up, she wasn’t discerning enough to register my anger. She kept talking and I kept getting heated. I threw my vegetables into the microwave and walked into the living room.

I stopped right in front of her and said,

“Mummy, I would appreciate if you stopped talking about me to your friend, especially because majority of it is not accurate. Thank you…”

She looked up at me from her seating position and proceeds to lie to my face,

“Efia, I’m not talking about you. You should stay out of my conversation”

I was now heated to the max. Why was she lying?

Every time she did something to me to piss me off, it opened the floodgates of hurt and betrayal. All those unprocessed emotions always seemed to fill me up and I wanted to reach for her and strangle her. But I couldn’t, many things wouldn’t let me.

This was becoming a regular occurrence and I was just tired of having her in my home. I turned around and headed to my room, I slumped onto my bed and picked up my phone.

Damien.

I started dialing his number; it began ringing as I heard the microwave beeping in the kitchen with the customary three beeps as the timer run out. My mother’s voice still echoed as she continued her conversation before Damien’s voice interrupted me. I got so excited and said “hello”

My ears welcomed the sound of his voice over his voicemail recording. I sighed.          

“This is Damien Brown, I am not able to receive your call at the moment…”

The recording went on. It was soothing to hear but I needed him. I needed his calming voice or the husk in his tone that made me feel secure when I was alone or down.

Why did he do this to me?

I started to play back the last argument we had in my head. There were things that I could have done differently.

But was I that horrible?

Did I really scare him away?

I hadn’t even recognized how much I loved the man until he was gone. I was so close to tears. I felt alone and powerless. My support was nowhere to be found.

I was still lying in bed with my face planted in the pillow while I continued to think, my heart was heavy and I wanted to scream. I could feel the heat from my own nostrils hit me on my cheeks as I continued to breathe into the pillow.

I was lost in some train of thought and about 30 minutes had passed when my phone buzzed.

I raised my head up and scanned the bed looking for my phone; I hoped it was Damien. I picked up my phone. Highly expectant, I punched in my unlock code and it opened up. The bright light from the screen slapping me in the face of all the darkness that covered the room, I opened my messages by pulling the notification tab down.

The message was from Lovell. He was an old friend and we had dated briefly for a few months and my trip to Australia interrupted the likelihood of anything happening.

It read,

“Hey Effy, I heard you’re back from down under from Lucia and I just wanted to say hi and check on you. We should catch up sometime soon, if you’re down. Hope you’re good”

 I wasn’t good. I wasn’t okay. I needed to talk to someone. I wanted to be with someone right now.

I contemplated exploring the night with him. I tried to convince myself not to by thinking about Damien but where was he when I needed him?

Where was he during my last appointment?

When I got my promotion?

He was gone. I looked at my phone and unlocked it again. My message read,

“There’s a late night diner down the street from my place. Get me pancakes?”

A few minutes later, I was in my sweats and ugs as I grabbed my car keys off my dining table and headed for the door. I noticed my mom look at me as I walked, I didn’t make eye contact. She didn’t deserve my words.

 .    .    .    .     .    .

Lovell was nice. I had forgotten about how much he made me laugh.

Since the night we had coffee, he had been a constant. It felt like meeting someone new all over again. The conversations were good to have and he was a true gentleman as always. I remember one night when we went out to a comedy show, somewhat informally. They had a two-drink minimum at the comedy club.

Let’s just say that I had more than two drinks and I was quite drunk that Friday night when the show was over. I had laughed so hard all night that I couldn’t even remember when I passed out.

I woke up the next morning in my bed fully clothed and slightly hung over.

I stumbled out of bed and headed for the kitchen to get some water to drink. It was about 11:30am in the morning, I opened my bedroom door and noticed my mother on the couch.

Sigh.

I so badly couldn’t wait for her to be gone. Waking up to her there was very aggravating for me.

I got to the refrigerator and placed my cup into the space and pressed the button for water. I was heading back to my room when my mom called out to me.

“Efia, come here please. I want to talk to you”

 Now?!

Was the first thought that went through my head. My head was throbbing and I wanted more sleep.

She just knew how to frustrate me. I sluggishly walked towards her pulling my blouse down. I sat down on the couch across from her.

She started by saying

“I am very aware that there is very little hope for the resurrection of our relationship. Frankly because we never really had one to begin with. I realize in hindsight now that I should have done more for you. I should have been your protector. I should have been the terrier that fought to keep you safe but I didn’t know what to do then. It wasn’t until I went to therapy myself that I was shown my lapses as a parent. The hurt I had gone through made it difficult for me to be there for you as you hurt. Hurt people apparently hurt others.”

She paused for a breath and continued;

“Also, my hands were severely tied. The money that we used to start your father’s business was from Comfort’s mother. It was a huge sum of money.  At the time, we hadn’t even begun the repayment of the loans yet and that was part of why I went back to working, so that I could support the household.”

I began to get irritated and very angry, as my hangover seemed to instantly fade.

Was she really blaming not taking action on a loan?

Did she realize that I was her daughter? Her blood?

She continued before I could speak,

“I am truly sorry for everything that happened. I wish at the time, I had the strength to do more. I thought I was protecting the livelihood of the family and particularly your father. I was wrong. Please find it in your heart to forgive me. Please Efia”

I looked at her and began to tear up. It was my go to emotion when I felt overwhelmed or angry to the point of not being able to speak anymore.

This was too much; too much all at once.

I had waited for many years to hear her own up to her mistakes and apologize. It was finally here and I didn’t know how to forgive her.

I got up and I headed for my room without saying a word and then I heard my mother’s voice. It was coaxed with frustration and sadness.

“Efia, where are you going? Efia! Efia!

Efia, when are you going to forgive me?!!!”

She seemed to yell out. The rage in me was to the brim. I stopped in my tracks and turned abruptly, with piercing focus and deep emotion, I yelled back at her, 

“Never!!! You don’t deserve my forgiveness!

You think one apology more than 15 years later will solve it?

NO… So leave me alone!!”

 I stormed out of the room and slammed the door to my bedroom.

I ran into my bathroom and closed the door. I sat on the floor of the toilet and began to cry. I just cried.

I was ashamed of myself just as much as I was sad. I had forgotten what it felt like to forgive. I was so used to the emotion of hate that it clouded my view on the possibility of ever forgiving my mother.

I had let hate consume me that even when I felt the apology was sincere, I couldn’t bring myself to validate it.

I spent hours in that bathroom just crying, thinking of my failed relationships. My attempt to identify and my phase with women because I felt that was who I am. The lack of guidance from my mother through navigating new emotions as I grew up, it all just continued to break me.

How much I would have paid to have someone hold me at that time? Even a hug from my father would have been great but he was off somewhere making money.

I slowly lay down on the bathroom floor and passed out. Waking up over 5 hours later, I had missed my friend’s birthday dinner and I had a separate kind of throbbing in my head. Tears induced hangover.

.    .     .    .     .

Endless Love

 A month had now passed and there was still no contact from Damien.

I was beginning to forget him more and more as the days went by.

At home, my mother and I were getting along better. Small talk here and there but we managed to ignore speaking about the incident. She was nearing the end of her visit also, so we tried to keep things light. I hadn’t forgiven her but I wasn’t as angry as I was before anymore.

We were watching a Lifetime movie together before Lovell arrived to pick me up for our date. I told her goodbye as I headed out of my apartment. Lovell was waiting next to his car when I arrived down stairs; he held the door open for me as I gave him a hug before I entered the car.

I was hungry but all I could think about was how good he smelled. You ladies know how we get when a man smells good. He was confident, driven and super family oriented. An occupational therapist by day, a mentor on the weekends to foster youth and just an all round stand up guy.

Sitting across from him as he finished up a thought, I began to wonder why I hadn’t given him a proper chance before. He was a great guy. It was probably a case of using the curve too early.

My mind briefly flashed towards Damien but he was not here. He was not caring enough to have gone a month without any form of contact. Lovell, smiling at me would probably have turned out to be the same kind of guy but for now, he was mindful of my feelings and respectful of my views. I was laughing my ass off and we had so much in common. I even remember me burning his tongue as I tried to feed him a spoon of my clam chowder. He took it like a champ and we laughed it off. I was having a great time.

My phone began to buzz and I excused myself and reached for my purse, it was my mom.

I kind of rolled my eyes a bit as I answered, Lovell smiled and I responded to her. Lovell motioned at me as he excused himself to use the bathroom. I smiled back.

“Mom, what do you want and why are you still up?”

I asked as I glanced at the time on the phone.

“I slept in the afternoon my dear, I’m not sleepy. Please what is the password for your other computer? I’m trying to watch a dvd and I cannot understand the one under the television”

 Not trying to explain how the blu-ray player worked, I gave her the password to my old computer and she set about watching her movie while I got back to my date. I had barely placed the phone down when a waiter brought me my favorite dessert; a Cookies ‘n’ Cream Pizookie and a single purple tulip.

I smiled but confused I said to the waiter 

“I didn’t order this”

For a brief second, I thought Lovell had planned it but I was sure I had never told him what my favorite flowers were even if I had mentioned my favorite dessert.

“Oh miss, the gentleman at the table over there specifically ordered it for you”

 he said pointing towards a table in the opposite end of the restaurant floor. I turned around in my seat to look with him but I caught the look of surprise on his face, as the man was nowhere to be seen. This odd thought began to come into my head and I tried to shake it off.

I asked the waiter,

 “Can you please describe the person to me?”

He nodded,

“He was about 6’1 with medium athletic build. Dark hair. He had a golden ring on his middle right finger. He spoke with a British accent”

My mouth was ajar as I turned around and scanned the room again. Only one name came to mind; Damien.

I began to panic as the waiter excused himself.

Was it really Damien?

What had he seen?

Did he see me feed Lovell or hold his hand?

I picked up my phone and dialed Damien’s friend who I knew, Lucia.

I must have woken her up from her sleep.

“Hey Lucia, sorry to wake you up but I had a quick question. When was the last time you spoke to Damien?”

She cleared her throat as I heard her moving in her bed.

“Hey Effy, umm… the last time I spoke to him was probably a week ago. He was looking for someone to drop him off at the airport”

I was now really worried.

“Where did he say he was going?”

I asked,

 “America. He sold all his property and I think he got a job out there. Yeah, he’s gone”

 I thanked her and hung up. Tears as you suspected were streaming down my face.

Lovell returned and with a confused look on his face asked me what was going on.

I swallowed hard and lied that a family emergency had come up and I had to leave.

He looked at the food on the table and then back at me really confused. Then said;

“Okay, can I drop you off at home at least?”

 I responded with a “no”. And I proceeded to walk out. He followed me as I hailed a cab and got in. He stood there mad confused like it was his fault or something.

I felt bad for him but I felt horrible for myself. I was crying as the cab driver navigated downtown and headed for my apartment in the midlands. I was regretting everything on the cab ride home.

I blamed myself for opening up to someone else so quickly. I could not fathom if I had blown it with Damien again. I was looking for ways to convince myself that it was okay by telling myself that Damien didn’t see me kiss Lovell, I hadn’t had sex with him or slept at his place but none of it worked. I still felt terrible.

I didn’t understand why he left. Was he mad at me? Did he not want to see me?

I needed answers.  On one end, I was just tired and sad but on the other, I was glad that he came back. At least I thought he came back for me. It was just too much to deal with in one night and I just wanted to curl up in a ball in my bed and worry about it all later.

I got home and the walk up the stairs felt like the scene out of the Rocky movie. It just felt like the stairs went on forever. I was still sobbing lightly when I finally arrived at the door.  That must have been the reason why I didn’t initially hear the voice of someone else sobbing inside the apartment.

I pushed the door open and froze at the sight of my mother sitting in the dimly lit living room as the light of my computer illuminated her face. She was crying and she was crying hard!

It didn’t take very long while glued in that spot to figure out that my mother had stumbled on my video logs where I had talked about hating her and all the pain trying to love and forgive her had caused.

I felt weak. I wanted to die. As much as I was angry at my mother, I never truly showed how angry I was. I always kept it in and poured it out in my writing and in my video logs. And on those video logs, I held nothing back. I had called her all sorts of horrible things because I thought she would never see them. That no one would ever see them. She must have watched most of them and one was still playing right then.

I just stood there motionless and stared at her.

We both had tears in our eyes now. I stood still with the door opened contemplating closing it and staying in or leaving. She looked broken, I heard each word sail into the open room, floating in the air but like a knife to her heart it stabbed further. This was a cycle of hurt and I could run like she did but what would that do for us?

Someone had to stop the trend of hurting women and creating these dark holes in our hearts that we then expected lovers, friends, jobs, money, and life to fill up. I looked at my keys unsure if I could do this or if I had the strength to do it. I began to doubt myself; I was just as imperfect as she was in many ways, who was I to talk to her? I moved and I closed the door.

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 ⟹ ⟹ ⟹ PLAY THE SONG BEFORE YOU READING.

                                                    Faaji ft. OC Nicotine by Chordratic Beats

 

I thought Jae had missed the awkward exchange between us but apparently she hadn’t.

“Do you guys know each other?”

She said with a smile on her face clearly oblivious to what was happening or so I thought. With both of us shaking our heads, I responded

“No, we don’t. She looks familiar though”

It was a lie. A clear one that I think Jae must have seen through but I couldn’t have risked the truth at that moment.

She giggled and said to Nia

“Marcel knows just about everyone, it’s actually quite stressful.”

I knew she was only teasing but a part of me felt like she said that particular sentence to reach out for a slip up. I stood firm and smiled back. Nia looked at my father in disgust and then at me, she excused herself and walked out. My eyes had followed her as she walked out. When she was out of sight, I turned back around and caught the glare from Jae. She sensed something.

There had been something off about me since I returned from the hospital. I had been trying to keep it under wraps hoping that Jae wouldn’t find out about it. I was still in shock, replaying the face I saw at the hospital over and over. It really was her and I could not believe it. I did not know what to do and my father, the man who never thought any problem was unsolvable, admitted we had a problem. I was confused and powerless.

I remember sitting at my dining table alone thinking,

“I thought she moved?”
“I thought she lived in a different state”
“How did she get so far up in the same town and I never noticed her?”

I had to talk to her. I just had to.

Jae was scheduled to be discharged after observation that day. Due to the many times we had lost babies, we had agreed that she needed to have a therapist. Dr Yeung had been working with her for about a year now and I felt he was a sort of calming influence for her. Jae respected him and valued his help. My bank account respected the importance of the need, so it never complained.

I got to the hospital in the late afternoon after leaving work early that day. I walked in and headed to Jae’s floor. Her appointment with Dr. Yeung was scheduled to end at 5pm, so I had about 45 minutes to find Nia and talk to her. I asked for her at the floor’s receptionist desk and they called and asked for her to come down. I sat impatiently in the lobby waiting for her. I was nervous and unsure about how this was all going to go down. A few minutes later, I heard her arrive next to me.

She wore glasses now but back in the day, she didn’t. She slowly took them off and asked,

“What do you want?”

I picked up on the hint of disgust and resentment in her voice. I slowly stood up and in a lowered voice, I asked,

“Can we please speak in private?”

She rolled her eyes and sighed.

“10 minutes”

She responded as she led me towards an open hospital room down a few doors down. She walked in before me and I walked in and closed the door behind us. I stood there and she had this expecting look on her face to urge me to start talking. I took a deep breath in and began to speak;

“Nia, I don’t even know where to start. It’s been so long and I don’t know what happened between us after that night. I had so much to explain. One moment we were something and the next we were gone….”

She cut me out mid statement and said,

“Look Marcel, you look like you have done well for yourself and that’s great but after what you and your family put me through back then, I don’t want to have anything to do with you. And I have nothing to say to you. I will be as professional as possible with your wife but I do not want to speak to you. So if you would excuse me, I have patients to attend to”

She stormed out of the room and slammed the door shut. My biggest fear had been realized. This encounter had gone sour and now she was mad at me. Nia from back then held grudges and that obviously hadn’t changed. I deserved every bit of it though; I had messed up back then big time. And I obviously hadn’t been forgiven. It’s not only the sins of the father’s that live on after them, sometimes it’s the sins of the man himself that will haunt him.
My heart sunk into my stomach and a cloud of darkness seemed to cover the room. I took a deep breath and opened the door, walking into the bright lights in the hospital hallways.

I entered Jae’s hospital room and Nia was already there. Jae still unassuming to my understanding, Nia was talking to her about ways to continue to take care of herself. Jae was already on a strict diet and on a bunch of pills to support the process and the help with the constant blood loss she had. Dr Yeung said his goodbyes, shook my hand and walked out. Nia finished up as Jae who was sitting at the foot of the bed, thanked her and got up. We walked out together, Nia walking behind us. We stepped outside the room, headed to the left and down the hall. I turned around and caught a glimpse of Nia standing in the hallway behind us. She had a look of sadness in her eyes. She quickly turned around with her head bowed. I was sure I had hurt that woman.

. . . . . .

IMG_20140703_085436

                                                                                   Lust or Love – Tay

It had been two weeks since the hospital and I hadn’t been able to shake the thought of Nia out of my head. This particular day I was in my office, it was a Saturday when the rest of my staff was gone. The way I was, whenever I had something not work related weighing on my mind, I would immerse myself in work till it was all I thought about. I just couldn’t leave the room to think about other things that continued to depress and confuse. I had left many texts on Nia’s phone, a number I had illegally retrieved online. There were no replies.

I turned my chair around deep in thought, papers all over my conference table with a jug of water I had been drinking from. It was full when I walked in, now almost empty. I stared out the window into the hills. The day was beautiful outside but my heart; covered in darkness.

I met Nia in my freshman year of college in one of my sociology classes. It was filled with girls but she stood out to me. She was smart, witty and she had an amazing sense of humor. I gradually moved seats as class sessions went by until I was seated close enough to her. I would eventually talk to her and even had the final group project with her which we obviously smashed out the park. We rocked together. We were both young and new to it all. Enjoying the experience with her was fun.
When I decided to pledge, she thought it would be a good idea to join a fraternity with connections post-graduation to set me up in the future. She was a little disappointed when I ended up picking what was notoriously known to be a party house.
Nia and I weren’t together officially at the time I found I was going to be accepted to join the fraternity. Part of the pledging process was that I had to come up with money to throw a huge summer party and by the end of the night; I had to have sex with a girl on the bed they gave me on top of the fraternity’s custom made sheets. It seemed fairly simple and straightforward, my father was well to do and I had Nia. We had been having sex for about a month and feelings were already there, it was just a matter of the right time to make it official.

The night of the pledging, they blindfolded all of us. They drove us to a spot approximately 12 minutes away from campus to a causeway. We got out of the cars and the blind folds were lifted. We were directed to use some big rocks on the ground to write out the name of our fraternity. It was noticeable from the freeway next by. We then returned downtown in the city where our school was located. We tagged some buildings with graffiti and then headed back to the house.

It was around midnight and people were beginning to fill up the house. I headed to my room and showered. I came down about 30 minutes later and Nia showed up soon after. After the step show, chanting and the speech by the “brother” (the head of our fraternity) welcoming us all, the party was on. Drinks were everywhere, drugs were everywhere, girls were everywhere and sex floated in the air. About an hour later, Nia and I were high and drunk, her a bit more than I. We headed towards my room. A high five from one of my fellow pledges and we were soon on my bed. I was fondling her, nervously kissing her and laughing midway through.

I cupped her breasts in my hands and squeezed while my mouth searched her body. I was nervous and naïve. I didn’t even wonder if they were recording the whole thing. The sex was average at best. I don’t know if it was because we were under the influence but it was done in mere minutes. Not two, a prime number greater than five and less than 11.
I got up and stumbled to the bathroom to take off the condom. I had this weird check I performed back then with condoms to ensure they never broke. I would fill them with water and squeeze the water around it. Think water balloons. I was going to make sure I wasn’t at risk of anything. This particular one wasn’t leaking.
It must have been when the water was running that they came but the sight I came out of the bathroom to would later haunt me for a long time.

I returned from the bathroom and noticed two of my frat brothers on the bed. One was kissing on Nia and the other playing with her privates. I was taken aback. I couldn’t believe it.
One of the head “brothers” came up to me after obviously noticing the shock and confusion on my face. He put his arm around me and said,

“This is not a problem… right?
We all share here. We are all brothers”

I wanted to fit in so bad and that night I made the most cowardly decision I have ever made as a man. As one of the guys wanted to violate Nia with his privates, the “brother” still standing next to me with his hand on my shoulder said,

“This shouldn’t be that bad. She’ll enjoy it. He’s good. After all, she isn’t your girl right?”

There was a window right there for me to stop this all. I looked up at him, it was as if my answer had to be perfect. I looked down and said nothing, just shook my head conveying “no”.
Nia was under the influence but I knew she could feel things and she knew it wasn’t right but she couldn’t fight back. There I was, worried about the wrong things. Vain things and I was hurting the woman that I cared about. That wasn’t me, it was the man I was becoming and I had to stop that guy but I didn’t quickly enough.

They made me stand there and watch the whole thing. I stood there and fought back tears. Nia was turning and would make out a period to keep her eyes open to look at me. It was a begging look. Pleading with me to make it stop but I did nothing. I just watched. I watched just to fit in. I let my morals slip away.
When it was over, a short but damaging 16 minutes, another set of brothers came in and cleaned Nia up. It seemed like they had been used to this. It felt like a cleanup to prevent the drugged girl from knowing what had happened. The rest of the night was a horrible blur. I never heard from Nia again. She dropped out of the school shortly after and I heard she moved out of the country about two months later. The other cowardly thing I did was not attempt to find her before she left. She wasn’t staying at her parents but I should have still tried harder.

The sins of a man. This secret had me trapped for years. I never thought it would surface and now it was breaking my heart. The things that happened that night to me and to Nia had weighed so much on my current life and I didn’t know it.

National Sexual Assault Hotline – 1.800.656.HOPE

“A bystander to evil that does nothing is just as responsible for the evil. Do something. Speak up”

                                                                  -@adewus4real

I thought to myself as I came back from my memories and my cell phone buzzed again. It was Jae. I wiped the tears off my face, cleared my throat and answered.

“Hello…”

. . . . .

Jae was outside my office building. She had returned from her wedding and decided to surprise me. This was the worst day that this could have happened.

I straightened myself out and headed for the front door. Letting her in, I gave her a hug as she gripped me tight. Her red covered lips planted a huge kiss on my lips. She looked amazing. She was a wearing a white and black stripped dress, knee length, with pink pumps and her blue clutch. I was pretty sure a few years back, I would have feasted her up before she left the house looking that good.

“How’s the work going my hardworking superman?”

She smiled as she sat on the conference table.

“It’s going baby. How was the wedding?”

I responded,

“Oh the wedding was fine but forget the wedding. I had an idea while I was waiting outside. We haven’t had sex at this new office since your company moved some years back. I want you to fuck me all over this table”

This was the freaky Jae talking. She was going for it.
She seemed very up for great sex at the moment but I was worried in my head that I would not be able to get my member up.
There was just something about her in heels. I scanned down at her legs and I somehow got turned on. My member slowly began to rise. She leaned back and pulled her dress up, revealing her dark blue lace panties. I knew it was about to go down. She spread her legs, licked her fingers and slowly moved them from her mouth to her lips down south.

“Are you going to take them off or…?”

She snapped the lining of her underwear. I reached in, still seated and pulled off her panties. Wet.
I licked my lips and looked up at her. She had this look of anticipation, waiting for my warm tongue to touch her wet pussy.
This was crazy! But it was happening and anyone that has ever had sex at their workplace would tell you the same. Well you should never tell anyone that before your ass gets fired. Back to #WhatTheHeckMan series…
I leaned in and French kissed her lips. They kissed back. Wet, they covered my lips with their juices. My tongue went searching inside their cabin and my beard was now getting covered in her showers. Her back was arched all the way; her braids hitting the table. She scratched the table looking for a grip. Nothing.
I absolutely enjoyed feasting on her body. My left fingers still playing with her right nipple as my tongue paced back and forth on her clit. I stuck two fingers into her. It was hot in there. My fingers as they worked in and out like an oil rig shaft continued to get covered in wetness.
I was ready and about to get up when she rose and pushed me down. She got on her knees and took me into her mouth. There was something about the way she sucked on the rod, working both her lips and hands at the same time. It was perfection.
She made it wet. Nasty wet.

Slobbering all over it. Spit covered, my member throbbed hard. I was clutching the handles on the seats trying to maintain composure as best as I could. She was getting me close and I wasn’t afraid either. I wanted to get this first one out of the way, so we could enjoy the rest of the party together.
I placed my right hand on her head, holding it down as I neared that climax. It was going to be a full load, I could feel it in my balls.

“Yess… Yess… Arghhhh!!!”

I let out the grunts as I shot my load into the back wall of her wanting mouth. She swallowed.
Licked her lips and got up. She pulled my chair that had been moved back while I came close to the desk, she turned around and before my member had time to drop its head and go sad she got it happy and slid on it. It was so warm in there!
I could feel my shaft throbbing as she worked her way up and down. She was moaning loudly. There was just something about this encounter. She wanted this bad!
She placed her hands on her head and she bounced up and down on my dick. I held her at her waist to help guide her along. I could tell she was nearing her climax. I got up, without pulling out of her, bent her over the desk and gripped her waist really tightly.
My thrusts were harder, you could almost say angrier. I was hitting it hard. In and out. Her moans were now many times louder and here we were in my office, windows open and asses hanging out.

“Cum for me dadddyyy… Shooot that shit inside me!”

Thrust. Thrust. Thrust.

“Oh shit!. Oh shit”

Was mostly what she was saying and then it happened. The full load.
All inside her, I clutched her waist really close and empty my barrel into her warm wetness. She turned around with the biggest smile on her face. Half of it was surprise at the fact that we just did that at my place of work and the other half was that it was amazing.

She leaned into me and kissed me on the cheek and then whispered in my ear while grabbing my shaft and rolled my balls in her hands,

“He should get ready for round two when we get home”

I smiled. It was on.
Because of her, I had forgotten about all my other problems. It felt great to just have her. She led the way out as I watched her sway from left to right while I armed the building’s alarm system. She always looked like a Queen. Part two was definitely going to happen.

. . . . . .

Our lives had finally settled down after the last miscarriage or so it seemed. I had begun to worry less about Nia. I was resigned to the fact that I just might not have been able to fix that. And she barely told me much so what was I even trying to fix?

I pulled into the drive way that evening and there was a car parked in my parking spot next to my wife’s car. I was a bit irritated because it meant that I had to park my car on the street and I would have to come back outside to move it again before the garbage trucks came by in the morning. I was tired.
I stepped out of the car and headed for the rear of the car. The trunk was already opened; I reached for laptop bag and grabbed my running shoes with my index and thumb fingers on my left hand. Using the base of my left hand, I closed the trunk and headed towards the house. I arrived at the door and struggled to let myself in with all the things in my hands. I eventually got in.

The second living area was the first thing you saw when you walked into our house and then her kitchen, after turning the corner, you then had a clear sight towards the main living room in the house with most of the bedrooms upstairs. I could hear Jae talking to someone but couldn’t really make out who it was and I really didn’t care. I just wanted to hit the shower, eat some dinner and knock out.
I let out my usual phrase when Jae didn’t physically see me when I came home. Coming around the corner, headed for the living room, I said,

“Hey mama, I’m home”

I turned into the living room. I stopped in my tracks. My brain went into overdrive. The television was on; food network. There were glasses of water on the coffee table on top of coasters like Jae always wanted. The perfectly lit and spaced room suddenly felt smaller. I could feel my heart playing catch up with the rest of my body. I felt like I was going to faint. I hated being blindsided, I still do. I noticed her handbag leaning on the couch next to her. I noticed her blue pumps, crossed over each other. My eyes were picking up on everything as they searched for answers. My eyes had torn the whole room about apart but I had not moved a single inch. And then Jae broke the silence. She stood up and almost fighting back tears, she said,

“You’re a rapist?! You raped her?!!”

The tears started to flow. My heart began to shatter into tiny little pieces. I could feel them drop onto the floor with all the tension in the air and silence in the room. I wasn’t exactly sure what to say. I know I needed to say something but nothing came out.
I was in shock… Double shock! I was still holding it together until Jae said these next words which snatched out my heart and crushed it.

“You are a sick bastard and I never want to have anything to do with you.”

Nia had gotten up at this point; bag in hand and was ready to leave. Jae walked her towards the door and a few minutes out. I was glued to the spot; literally. So many questions raced through my head and I struggled to find answers. It felt like a movie or a very bad prank that was perfectly executed. I finally was able to move. My mouth was dry, heart racing and palms sweaty.

I tried to make sense of it all. I tried to find the words, all that came to mind was….

Help me say it!!!!!!!!!!, #WhatTheHeckMan!!!!!

Come back for the concluding Part 4 next week. It promises to be epic. Trust me! Leave me a comment….

 

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© 2014 #WhatTheHeckMan

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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.

.    .    .    .    .    .

 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

 

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⟹ ⟹ ⟹ PLAY THE SONG BEFORE READING. START THE SONG FIRST.

 

One by Ed Sheeran

 

It had been a couple of hours of trying to make sense of the entire thing when Sam showed up with some food. I was still angry and confused but Sam had one rule, no matter what was going on, I still had to eat. She had stopped by her house and brought some rice, smoked turkey and some “aya mase” stew. The plantain was part of the accompanying party; even death could not make me play with that. Looking frustrated like a kid who did not want to eat their vegetables, she forced me to eat. About 20 minutes later my nostrils were blazing, heat burning through my stomach and I was still angry.

“Okay, now tell me what happened. Again”

She said in her usual calm voice.

“Can you believe that bastard? My useless uncle Dele, impregnated my mother and then killed her!”

I raged out of the blocks.

“He did it! I know he did it!”

I continued physically showing signs of aggravation and anger as I clenched my fists together. 

“Look at the papers”

I pointed at the sheets lying on the bed.

“She was transferring monies to him for God knows what and he was also in town the day she went for her appointment at the doctors. Why?! What was he doing there? And then he goes with them on vacation and then all of a sudden, they turn up dead and they are fine?!

No Sam! He did it!”

I paused…

“Are you sure baby? That sounds like a lot to accuse someone of babe.”

Sam began with. I knew it was going to annoy me. A frown came across my face as she spoke.

“Why don’t you let the detective know what you have found and then let him do his job and find out the truth”

She was such a voice of reason for me but it was so annoying that she was telling me what I needed to hear and not what I wanted. Ugh!

“But…. I know….”

She placed her hand over my lip and walked me slowly backwards to the bed.

“Come and get some rest my king, it has been an intense and long day. You need some rest”

I gently sat on the bed as she kissed my still burning lips.

Sniff. Sniff.

I lay on my back thinking about everything. She lay next to me. Her head on the right side of my chest; I ran my hand down her hair. I was still confused but she made sense. She was the only thing in my life that made sense.

.     .     .      .      .      .

I slowly turned over and stretched out my body. I rolled within the sheets for a bit. Twisting and turning, my mind trying to ignore the reality of time that awaited me outside my closed eyes.

I stopped turning and lay still, my eyes still closed, I could hear the clock ticking outside my heart…

“Tick…. Tick… Tick”

In the focus of that I realized that I was alone in bed. I had fallen asleep with Sam firmly draining the blood out of my right arm as her decent sized head camped on it all through the night. I had watched her sleep with her mouth slightly ajar and her drooling out. She was a beautiful woman, even in her sleep but her drooling was something I still marveled at. Even “perfect” beings have

I had been in my thoughts for roughly about 5 minutes and I finally decided to open my eyes.  I opened my eyes and the sunbeams invited themselves into my room and onto my face. It was warm. I turned around and to my back on the left side of my bed; I glanced at the alarm clock. Set 15 minutes ahead of what the actual time was, it read 12:18pm.

“Shit!” 

I muttered as I ran my hand over my head. I had clearly over slept. Oh well, I got up and grabbed my phone. A few people had texted me. Sam also texted to wish me a good morning and asked me to call her to update her later;

“Good morning my love, I am writing this message standing over you right now. Not like crazy eyes from OITNB but with watchful loving eyes. I just planted soft kisses all over your handsome bearded face. You look like a warrior that just won a grueling battle or when you’ve passed out from me sucking your dick dry after you’ve cum. Lol. Okay, okay sorry I brought that up. Olowo ori mi, I just want you to know that no matter what you decide to do, I’ll be by you 200% as always. Don’t forget that. Please call me when you wake up or after you speak to the detective. I love you mucho mucho grande. If you wake up in time, I made some eggs, they are covered in the microwave. I know how much you hate stale or cold food. Make sure you eat, or you’ll catch these hands!”

I smiled and sat up. Damn, I had slept for a cool minute or more like hours. I had been so tired. Work and life had managed to drain me out. I needed all that sleep after an emotionally draining day. I pulled up my phone and dialed his number; detective. Sigh.

The conversation was very similar to the one I had with Sam. He listened while I blabbed and then he said,

“I will be in Dallas tomorrow afternoon. We have some leads on our end too and I have some action to take care of over there.”

“I will be there too.”

I said, beginning to head for my computer to book the next flight. I was ready to go down there and witness the evil man that murdered my parents go down.

I hung up the phone and texted Sam about the plans. I was going to take the next 5 days off. She only needed to take off 1 working day as it was already Thursday. She responded with a simple,

“Okay baby”

Rushed packing and close to a thousand dollars later; tickets booked. We were leaving that night. I called up my supervisor and told her I had a family emergency to attend to out of state and I would be gone. I packed up all the letters and papers on the floor and dumped them into a garbage bag. I packed the full garbage bag into a suitcase of it’s own and continued packing. It was almost 8pm and we had a 10:05pm flight to catch. I hated being late so you can imagine how I felt sitting in front of my condo leaning on my car and Sam still hadn’t shown up.

I was texting on my phone when Sam pulled up.

“Baby, I’m sooooooo sorry. It was my best friend that held me up, that’s why I’m late.”

I rolled my eyes and sternly said,

“Olatokunbo!”

I only ever called her by her “Nigerian” name when she had done something really bad.

She looked up at me and didn’t respond. She had those eyes, those “forgive me right now I’m a baby girl eyes”. I couldn’t help it.

“Just enter the car and let’s go!”

I had checked in online and all I really needed to do was drop off my car at the airport-parking garage.

The check-in process was smooth. It was about 10:11pm when I glanced at my watch sitting on the window seat of the plane. I hated looking out the window while flying, it made me want to throw up but I also loved watching the takeoff and landing. That’s why I religiously picked that seat for all my flights. Minutes later we were taking off and I looked out the window, I must have stared too long as I began to have motion sickness. I closed the window and leaned back in my seat. I glanced at Samantha who was already reading an article for work. I reached for my wallet and looked at the picture of my parents to ensure that I had it in there. A deep sadness covered my heart. I took in a deep breath and sighed heavily; I was going to fight for the justice in whatever way I had to.

The heat hit me as we walked out of the DFW airport. I was tired but ready to go. These next few days would be eye opening and I had to be ready. We were sitting down outside the airport waiting for my cousin to come and pick us up. It just seemed like everyone wanted to make me wait that day. It had been 30 minutes and no sign of her, so I called up her phone. She answered at the second ring and told me that she wasn’t the one coming to get us. I was still trying to figure it all out when Sam drew my attention to a car that pulled up behind me. I turned around and thought to myself,

“What the heck man?!”

“What was he doing here? Was he trying to die?!”

Sam, knowing how my temper can fly off the handle sometimes, immediately walked up to me and placed her hands around me.

 

“Calm down and talk baby she continued to say” 

I was heated and ready to pop off. This man killed my parents and then thought it was okay to come here? Is he mad?

I finally spoke…

“I am not getting in that car”

I said to my uncle, now standing out of the car. He looked at me calmly and said,

 “Femi, the police department already called and spoke to me to today. I know what you think and how you feel but I would not have come here if I was guilty. Please sit in the car and let me explain and I will tell you all that I know. If after that you still want to leave, that is fine.”

I shook my head in disapproval and he continued to talk. Sam finally said, in a whispering voice,

“Just hear him out babe, we can even leave our bags outside the car”

Sigh. She just always made sense. We left our bags next to the car, curbside to the airport door and sat in the car. I sat in the front and Sam in the back directly behind me.

“Femi, I know you know about your mom and I.”

 My uncle started and then he continued on to say,

“But I want you to know that I would have never killed her. I loved her and truly wanted to care for her and out baby.”

I felt like he thought this was meant to make me feel better but it actually served to annoy me. Sam placed her right hand on my shoulder and slowly rubbed it in a motion to calm me down.

My uncle continued;

“I don’t have all the answers but that woman was carrying my child and to me, that meant something so I would never harm her or your father in that way. “

He then went on to say something that resonated with me and changed the direction of my thought; a Yoruba proverb from our homeland;

“Kokoro ton je efo, idi efo lo wa”

 

Which essentially means, 

“The enemy/root of your problems are closer than you think”

Then he asked,

“Would you be staying with us at the house tonight or do you have hotel reservations somewhere?”

Sam responded from the back seat,

“Uncle we’ll stay at the house”

He started the car and began driving. I said nothing; staring out the windshield my brain was running in all different kinds of ways. I was now more confused than ever. What did he mean? What was going on? What the bloody fuck was going on?!

.    .    .     .     .     .

Shots on Shots | Ice Prince and Sarkodie

Our bodies were off by a few hours but we woke up around 1pm after getting home that morning from the airport at about 6am. I had spent most of those hours lying in what used to be my room and staring out the window trying to understand what my uncle meant. Sam had woken up in the middle of the night and left the room for a period of time. I thought I might have been snoring or something, it made no sense to me at the time.

I hadn’t taken a shower when my uncle called out for me to come downstairs. Walking down the stairs to the living room, Sam closely behind me, I noticed Det. Rosen sitting on the couch. He stood up and shook my hand. I sat down across from my uncle with the detective to my left side.

He began talking;

“We have been investigating what was originally ruled as an accident but was actually the murder or your relations. Some of the evidence we gathered has led us to believe that we have a few more questions to ask. The evidence on ground shows that someone in your room (he pointed towards my uncle) during the vacation used their key card to leave the room during the middle of the night before the incident. So at this point, we are here to take you and your wife in for further questioning and continue to investigate the case”

My uncle looked on ahead; flat and unmoved like he saw all this coming and in many ways, he did. All my uncle said as the detective placed him under arrest was,

“Femi, find the truth.”

I was standing with Sam holding on to my left arm looking really sad. As the detective walked my uncle to the second living room, towards the main door. We heard the key, someone opening the door from the other side. It was my aunt.

“What is going on here?”

She asked with a confused look on her face. I began to try to explain and then she put her hand up as it to shut me up.

“Officer, you have the wrong person”

She said as dropped her bags on the floor and sat upright, her back up against the wall.

“I did it.”

Those were the first words out of her mouth in her seated position. I was shocked. Just like everyone in the room.She then went on a long confessional where everyone stopped and was silent in awe and disbelief.

“I am tired of all the lies and the sneaking around and playing dumb. Dele, I knew you were sleeping with my sister a full year before she died. After all we went through Dele, everything! My own sister?! Chai! Chai! Chai! Dele!!! There is God o.

 Anyway, all those “research trips” you were taking out to Dallas when we still lived in California. I knew it was to sleep with her. And you left me with your kids. I was crushed. And my sister had always taken from me since we were kids. She always got all the men, all the boys that I liked, she had them because they thought she was prettier. She rejected one guy that wanted her and then he came to me. Of course I fell for him. I did everything for him. And then I got pregnant… 23 and pregnant. I could not keep the baby because I knew our father would kill me. So I devised a plan. It had come to my attention from one of my sister’s ex friends that she had damaged her womb and could not have children. So I suggested that she and I should run to the US from Nigeria and I would have the baby and give it to her. So she could call it her own…”

She paused as she was getting teary eyed. Everyone was still glued in their standing positions.

“Your “father”, her husband, never knew. She planned that part well and he always thought you were his. Femi, you are that child. You are my son…”

Those words cut through me. I felt like I was stabbed in my gut. There was no way. I felt winded and took a step back to reaffirm my stance. “What The FUCK MANNNN?”

She continued as my uncle’s face remained covered in calm. He knew all of this. My mother had told him.

“Femi, I brought you into this world and gave you to my sister because at the time, I knew I could not raise a son. I just couldn’t. And I knew she needed a child. I did that for my sister. I gave her the greatest gift one could; life. And she selfishly took away my happiness. Taking money from our business and giving it to the worthless piece of shit called a man here (she pointed at my uncle). I had silently watched the two of them play everyone like fools without saying anything but I couldn’t take it anymore. The night in Hawaii, we were drinking and I offered her something and she said no. She and my husband left the pool side for a while and I knew what they were off doing. I don’t know what came over me that night when I went and tampered with the brakes. I really didn’t want to kill them. I just wanted her to be scared off him from the trauma of a minor accident. The next morning when Dele tried to go and join them to go sightseeing, I stopped him because of the risk. He knew nothing at the time; only if anything.

 

My sister took from me after all I had given her. She was always taking from me. I had to take some power back. I am sorry I hurt her. I am sorry I hurt you. I am so sorry…”

She was now wailing, streams of tears rushed down her cheeks. The detective took the hand cuffs off my uncle and began reading the Miranda rights to my aunt as he began to cuff her. She didn’t fight back. She was sobbing and silent.

I was now in full flow of tears. Trying to process it all, I had my hands on my knees in a bent position and then I looked up and said,

“Did you know she was pregnant?”

My aunt’s eyes grew bigger and now she began to wail and cry.

I continued;

“She was finally going to have one of her own and you took that away from her. The woman that raised me and an innocent man, you killed. You are evil and I never hope to see you again, I hope you rot and die behind bars. I will never forgive you!“

She was in full tears and really sobbing when she began to yell out,

“My stomach… My stomach…”

“She is lying!”

I yelled out as confusion broke out. The detective trying to make out the situation and my uncle attempting to help her, they both looked at me to help and I stepped back even further. I was not going to save her.

“You’re a doctor, aren’t you? You took an oath…” 

The detective yelled out as they lay my aunt on the ground. I pointed to my uncle and told him to call 911. I held her head up and figured she was having a reaction to something in her stomach. I stabilized her as I heard the sirens of the ambulance. I stood up and walked away from her body as she was carried away and the detective followed. He asked Sam and my uncle to help and they headed to the hospital.

What just happened? I thought to myself. My mother had just confessed to killing the woman I had called mother all these years. I had been living a lie. I was the product of deceit. I was feeling crushed inside. And she had just been carried out for something that looked like a poison reaction. What was happening? My mind flashed and pieced it together. Sam!

She was in the medical field and would know the “right” compounds to fix or throw together to create something that could hurt my aunt. Shit!

I was sitting next to my aunt’s items and noticed her water bottle for her Herbalife smoothies. I opened it and sniffed it. I was right. It smelled of chemicals. The kind you would only spot if you were in the medical field.

“Why did Sam do this?”

“I’m the doctor though. When they pump her stomach and test it, they will think it was me and I have all the motive”

Fuck! I wanted to run but what was the point.

The house was empty and I felt just like I did on the evening of my parent’s funeral, only now I was alone. The feeling truly caught up to me. Tears streamed down my eyes for over a full hour. Why didn’t Sam stay with me? It made no sense.I heard a knock on the door. I looked up at the door and didn’t respond.Another knock and then the door opened.  It was the detective and I had an idea of why he was there.

“Mr Femi Rilwan, you are under arrest for the attempted murder of…”

his voice tailed off as the tears slowly rolled down my face as he placed the handcuffs behind my back. I wasn’t even hearing what he was saying even though I knew he was talking.  There was a hollow depth in my heart as my heart rate slowed dramatically. He walked me out of the house towards his waiting car. Opening the door, he bent my head as I sat in the back seat, I thought to myself. Through the web of lies, deceit, infidelity and pain that all the people involved went through with me, I never truly understood what it felt like to be a “home”. There I was in the back of the cop car in front of my own parent’s home; trapped in my own hands and this time for real, I had absolutely no one. And I could be going down for something I didn’t do. The detective was walking around the car when Sam walked up to him. She stood very close to him and said something. Something I still do not know till this day.

She walked around the car and he opened the door. She stretched out her hand and held my chin in her hand.

I stepped out the car and he removed the cuffs from my hand. I gave Sam a big hug and whispered to her. 

“I love you.”

 She didn’t respond. She just clutched me tighter as tears streamed down her eyes. He gently shook the cuffs in his hands. I looked down at his hands. Sigh.

Say it with me y’all…. “What The Heck Man!!!!!”

 

Fin! Wait! Wait! Wait! Hold on to that feeling and let me know how you felt about this series Empty. I’d love to know.

Also, NO ONE got the actual story I wanted to start running on the poll from next week but most wanted Secrets so much…. Sooooooo… I will be releasing Secrets Part 1, next Saturday. In the meantime, please listen to a preview if what to expect. And like always, please let me know what you think!

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Erotica · Fiction · Uncategorized

Empty 2

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Empty 2

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⟹ ⟹ ⟹ PLAY THE SONG BEFORE READING. START THE SONG FIRST. 

Money on My Mind (Unplugged) – Sam Smith

I sat there with a confused look on my face trying to understand what was happening.

I read the letter over again. Same outcome; shock

Many thoughts were racing through my head from the fact that she wrote me a letter instead of calling me to the idea that I grew up in that home and I truly did not want to lose it. Why was she making such decisions with the heir to the estate?

My parents had willed their businesses to me; my father’s was in the process of being sold and my mother’s was jointly owned by her sister. The house while not willed to me, was meant to be sold and half the money given to me and half from the sale reinvested into my mother’s business. This was changing the plan and I was not comfortable with that.

I picked up my phone and dialed my aunt’s number. Midway through, I realized that she might have been at work and I probably wouldn’t have answered. The phone was on it’s 4th ring when someone on the other end picked up, it was my aunt.

“Good afternoon aunty”

I said trying to contain my evident frustration.

“Femi ba wo ni?”

She responded as she asked about my well being

“I was just calling to let you know I got your letter and I was wondering what it was about”

My disgust has somewhat seeped into my tone now

“Oh your uncle and I have had the house on the market since your parents passed but have gotten very little responses back. I just figured we should move in here instead of paying two mortgages and trying to sell ours instead”

She explained going on

“We’ll put our house on the market and then move to Dallas. Home sales in California are easier at the moment and then we’ll buy this one outright”

Some form of calm began to set into my breathing

“Oh okay, I responded. Well, that makes sense then but someone should have told me aunty. I was just here wondering what was going on. Being far away doesn’t make it easy to stay on top of things”

I explained trying to claw my way back from extreme irritation. She understood, I think but it seemed as she felt like I only thought she had money on her mind and not doing it for the best interest of me, the family and the company.  The plan actually made some sense because sales in California were actually on the rise but not so much in Dallas. I was skeptical about doing the sale of the home to family but my mother and my aunt had been in business for many years without complain on either side. I reserved my fear and somewhat allowed some hope to take over. This might actually work I repeatedly preached to myself. It had to work.

.    .    .    .     .    .

It was a blessing to have Samantha in my life through losing my parents and the house fiasco. She was continuously such a rock for me and I was extremely grateful. I remember how we both had to break into her new apartment because she had forgotten her keys on the kitchen sink inside. Breaking and entering your own property. That was the kind of stuff Sam and I go into.

It was the evening of her house warming party. My body was still sore from the move a few days prior. She had so much shit. Way too many clothes and shoes, I could not believe someone was allowed to have that many shoes. She had enough shoes for the entire cast of Happy Feet African edition. I was just proud of her as I scoped the place one last time as I walked up the stairs and turned the corner.

There she was getting ready for her house warming party. Standing in front of the mirror with all her makeup scattered all over the sink. She stood there with her round butt cheeks hanging out of her black lace panties. I stood behind her wanting to devour her. She wouldn’t let me.

Before she put her lip stick on, I came up behind her and stood on her right side. Moving her hair out of the way, I gently placed my soft lips on her neck while I placed my hands on her waist. She knew what I was trying to do but did little to fight back. I continued kissing down her neck to the front of her chest. I turned and stood in front of her now backing the mirror, I pulled her in closer and wrapped my hand around her tighter. I was now kissing the front of her neck with her head kicked back. She was biting her lip while clutching one of her makeup brushes in her hand to ensure it didn’t stand my white shirt. I placed my large right hand on her left butt cheek and squeezed it tight while sliding my index finger over her clit in an attempt to get her wet quicker. She smiled and slowly pulled back

“People are here back and the rest will be here soooooon”

She moaned as I continued to kiss her

“I don’t care.”

I responded with authority.

“Babe, babe…. Babeee… stoop. They’ll be here soon. I promise once everyone leaves. I’m all yours.”

I let go of her and sat back on the sink looking dejected like a kid who was just told he won’t be seeing Santa that year. Every guy knows that moment when your woman clearly can give it to you but she decides against it. Soooo annoying!

I walked out of there shrugging like I didn’t care. She pulled me back and planted a wet kiss on my lips and then pushed me out with a smile on her face saying

“Stop being a spoiled brat!”

I smiled again like a little kid just finally allowed into the circle and walked out.

Good Kisser – Usher

Friends and some of her family began to arrive shortly after and the party was taking off. I held my spot by the sound system and kept the music coming. There were Hors D’oeuvres, some rice as you know Africans must always have at their gatherings and a couple of giant tubs of ice cream. Alcohol was constantly flowing the entire night as I watched Sam weave her way through a happy crowd as she gave tour after tour of her new place. It had been rumored around the office that the hospital we worked at, had tabled an offer to her but she was already some way into the transition to working at another hospital. I was glad.

Samantha was so good at everything that she did, that she definitely deserved to be given the opportunity that she was getting to spearhead the new child development research unit alongside one of the finest child psychologists around. She would dictate her hours and her pay was very handsome. The possibility of us having different schedules that enabled us to spend more time together was very attractive to us. It was at this stage of our relationship that it became clear to me that Samantha really valued me when she asked for my in depth opinion regarding the switch. Should she stay put where she was loved and known or embark on ground breaking worth that would be rewarding for years to come? I couldn’t be more proud of her as I watched her finish up another tour of the “den” area in her new place. She smiled as she caught me staring at her from the corner of my eyes. I got butterflies when I looked at her. She truly was magical. Her chocolate skin with her beautiful soft lips and her big bold eyes, I just wanted to cradle and squeeze her at every chance I got.

The “den” was big. She called it a “den” but I would eventually convince her to start calling it the “hut”. Sam in her thoughtfulness had turned it into my area of the house because she realized how much I was still dealing with the recent sale of my home. Some of my childhood pictures hung up on the wall and there was a big flat screen TV in there to watch my sports games. I swear, how could you not love a woman like that?

“Hey dj, can you play my song?”

I heard someone say in a sexy voice as their tongue licked my ear. Startled, I looked down at the 5’6 person and there Sam was. Clutching on to me with her hands around my mid riff, I could tell she was a bit buzzed.

I smiled and said

“Babe, you good?”

“I’m fine baby”

She responded swaying her head and smiling back at me as if to convince me. She was clearly starting to get drunk and I knew her horny side was soon come to fore. She slid her right hand down and grabbed my package in her hand. Looking around to make sure nobody was watching, I smiled and pushed her hand away

“I want you. Now.”

was all she said. I knew what I had to do next. I raised my hand up and motioned to my friend Nana, the black wonder from Ghana to come and take over the dj-ing duties. Sam and I waved our way through the dancing people in her living room and made our way into the bathroom. I lifted her up and sat her on the sink. Sliding her dress up, I began to kiss her hard. I had been made to wait hours and I wanted her right then. I was about to start taking off her underwear when we heard a knock on the door.

“Fuck!”

I cursed under my breath.

“Why now?!”

 I thought to myself as I stood in the corner and Sam opened the door to find out who it was. It was Miriam her best friend. I rolled my eyes as Sam tried her best to quickly dispose of her best friend who was just was even more under the influence than we were. Sam turned around to look at me sitting on the sink with an irritated look on my face. She immediately went into her “turn off” mode. It was the one where if I was being to aggressive, pushy for sex or said the wrong thing, Sam would fold into her shell and begin to act upset and then eventually, no sex for my horny ass.

I wasn’t about to let that happen this time, I pulled her close. Tight. I lifted her up and sat her on me with her knees on the sink, I pulled up her dress and parted her panties. Sticking my index finger quickly into her soaking wetness, she had no time to respond. I began to work it inside her. There was a certain level of pleasure I loved to get Sam to when we had sex and I was trying to beat that today. I was in for a shocker though. I continued kissing her as she moaned into my mouth. She was getting louder and louder as my finger got deeper. I slapped on the handle for the faucet and turned it on. Water running and the music blasting, I hoped it would be enough to drown out her moans. On to her fresh carpets she pulled me as we both made our way down. She didn’t want my tongue to feast on her; she just wanted my hard member inside of her. I rushed to pull off my pants as she looked up to me patiently and waited for me to enter into her. I lowered myself while positioning my now rock hard package as it slid into her. With a slow thrust, I allowed her flowing juices engulf my throbbing dick as I felt the heat from her insides warm me up. I clutched her left breast and squeezed as I began to slide in and out of her quicker. She moaned and looked at me like in amazement. There was something about drunken sex for her. It just took her to another level. She placed both her hands on my butt and squeezed pushing for me to thrust deeper into the realms of her gut. I continued as her juices flowed out and covered my balls as they dangled back and forth. This had to be a quick one. We had guests to attend to but the way Sam was holding on to me, I sensed she wanted more and was not going to let me only give her a quickie.

I was beginning to think of ways to pull out of her without her knowing but Sam knew me. She knew how I liked it when she dug her nails deep into my back. She knew how moaning my name

“Femi.. femi.. femi….”

Which translates to “marry me” evoked emotions beyond words in me. I did not know when I continued to thrust deeper. Watching her face, with her mouth wide open and no words coming out, she gasped and moaned with every thrust. I was struggling to not explode inside of her because I knew she wanted more but it was hard. It was wet. So wet. Slippery and hot. Tight. Hot. Did mention, wet? It was dripping. She was dripping. I was dripping covered in sweat and I there I was with the safety ofbirth control behind me, I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I began to cum inside of her with the ugliest facial expressions a man could have. I spurted out my seed as I looked like an man being electrocuted. I hated that face. That cum face but she loved it. I stood up and aimed to clean up. Sam sat up still on the floor and turned me towards her, grabbing my package she stroked it and put it in her mouth. Now there are only few men in the world and I mean very few who can admit that a woman sucking his dick right after ejaculation is not one of the most sensual and embarrassing things that could happen to him. We all begin to squirm like a black person in water for the first time. I had this look of shock on my face. No she was not doing what I thought she was doing. I pushed her off me slowly as I could not take the pleasure coursing through my back. She looked upset as we both put our clothes on. The rest of the party was a blast and we ended up in bed next to each other that night as tired as we were. It was success. Sam was my success.

.    .    .     .     .

Something felt off that week. The days were long. I was feeling very edgy and high on caffeine. I did not want to be at work or anywhere around work and it felt like a lot to take in and to compound the problem; I hadn’t seen Sam in a whole week.

I was frustrated. I was sitting in the break room at a little past midnight texting Sam. I can’t remember what she was saying at that time but it was sounding super sexy to me and I was getting turned on. I made sure not to tell her though as she talked. I gently placed my right hand under my scrubs and stroked my shaft that was now rising faster than gas prices. Sam and I hadn’t had sex in almost 3 weeks. Busy schedules coupled with her monthly visitor coming and a short trip to visit her sister, all disrupted “love and care” for me. I asked her to send me some naked pictures so I could take care of something’s on my end. She obliged and agreed that I had been patient enough lately and deserved some. So I waited and about an hour later, I still had not received anything. I was not horny, sexually frustrated and irritated. I was watching a documentary on some new innovative treatment the FDA just approved a  few months back on the television and then she texted back saying something along the lines of her changing her mind. I can’t exactly remember how but I immediately snapped and sent a series of extremely mean messages back to her. It was like venting but way meaner. She said nothing back besides “good night”

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When I placed my phone back down, I knew I was fucked. I should never have gone off on her. I tucked away phone and slumped in my chair. I had gone from zero to sixty in mere minutes. What was wrong with me? I knew nothing was going to stop her from being mad at me that night, so I went back to work and tried as much as possible to keep her out of my head. That was pretty much impossible. My week had just gone from crappy to extremely useless. I continued to blame myself while I sent her a “good morning” text the next morning. She didn’t respond. I sent 24 unreplied messages to her with no response. I knew I pushed it this time so I planned to stop by her house the next day which was at this point, now two days later.

I arrived at about noon and walked up to the door. I was unlocked and the TV was on. Strange.

I looked down to my right by the pile of shoes and noticed a pair of men’s shoes that looked freshly taken off. I began to walk into the space. I was hearing voices but nothing from the living room. My heart was beginning to race now.

“Was Sam ignoring me the whole day to be with someone else?”

I gathered that the sounds were coming from her bedroom upstairs. I began to make my way up nervously. I was extremely terrified. At the top of the stairs lay men’s underwear and a black blouse. I placed my had over my mouth as I got closer. I was trembling. I placed my hand on the door and in one swoop took a deep breath while saying a prayer to God. I pushed open the door and froze. I couldn’t not believe my eyes, I was stunned and weak in the knees.

“How could this have happened?”

I tried to find the words to speak but nothing came out and then rage consumed me. I slammed the door shut and bolted down the stairs.

“How could they do this?”

I am ALMOST at my 100th comment on this blog. Big deal since many don’t like to give comments lol buuuuuttt I will be GIVING A SPECIAL PREVIEW to the 100th person to comment on my blog #WhatTheHeckMan. You will get to read Empty 3 before it gets posted next week. Sooooooo… COMMENT AWAY!!!!

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