didn’t give two fucks. I was not listening. I’d blocked his whole voice. I was just waiting on some action. He tried to pass me some CDs and told me to put one on so he could calm down. I took the CD and broke them bitches in pieces. He was pissed. It was on and poppin’.
He grabbed me by the back of my neck and slammed me on the floor, and he was screaming at me. He’s telling me to pick them up in kind of a growl and pushing my head toward the floor as I was on my knees. I picked a piece of one of the CDs I broke, and with every ounce of my strength, I stabbed his with it on the arm he was using to hold my neck. Got his ass. I got up and ran to the living room because I needed more room. He caught me in the hallway, and he pushed me to the ground. He grabbed me by my hair to pull me off the ground. I was screaming in pain. Only ones home were the Lady of the House and her oldest son. She came running out of her room and begged him to let me go. She’s a battered wife, so she did nothing but cry. We could have jumped his little skinny ass. He’s distracted so I broke free. I ran out the door. He’s right behind me. He caught me on the side of the house. That’s when it happened. He’s delivering blows to my chest and side that hurt my whole soul. I’m swinging but he’s faster and stronger. Every one punch I threw, he delivered three. My face was aching from the open-hand slaps. My hero turned out to be the ten year old son of the Lady of the House. He hit the corner and had a bat. He screamed for Boyfriend to leave me alone. He didn’t swing, but it stopped him long enough for me to deliver a blow that shut that bitch down.
Two weeks prior, Boyfriend had surgery. While out in the field of an army exercise, one of his lungs collapsed. He had healed up pretty well, but it left him with breathing problems and one lung. It was still early in the healing process. I took advantage. The second I saw he was distracted, I punched his ass in his chest as hard as I could. That bitch buckled. He went down gasping for air. My only wish at the moment was that I was watching his ass die. The Lady of the House called the ambulance, not for me, though, but for his bitch ass. Fucked me up. She told them he was having difficulty breathing due to recent surgery. By the time the fight was over, his buddy showed up. He rode to the naval base hospital with him. I went into the house and cleaned myself up and tended to my bruises. I looked over at my baby. She slept through the whole thing. What was I going to do? I was thousands of miles from my maternal family. I had no job. I had one semester of college under my belt, and everything I had, he had provided. I just sat there and cried.
It was about 10:00 p.m. when he returned to the house. When he walked into the room, he immediately apologized. I didn’t answer. I was just sitting in the bed holding my knees thinking about all I had been through that day. It wasn’t over by a long shot. No, my nigga, this was far from over between us. You just beat my ass and you sorry? Yeah, you one sorry ass nigga and you are definitely going to be sorry before this is over. I’m young with a lack of good sense and from East St. Louis, Illinois. He had to know. If he didn’t, he’s about to find out. I had to get his ass back. He started talking about the Fourth of July picnic we were scheduled to go to the next day. What in thee fuck was wrong with this dude? Was he for real? I laughed. He was. That was fine with me. I was going to take advantage of this situation and show him that putting his hands on me was the last thing he should have ever done.
I went to the bathroom and put on one of my sexy night gowns. The night was young and quiet, and I was about to turn this into a whole other direction. After I changed into the cutest little pink nightie, I went to the kitchen and got a butcher’s knife. I slowly walked back into the room with the knife behind my back. It was completely dark. I smiled and whispered as seductively as I could and asked him if he was ready. You could tell he was, or was he? I climbed on top of him like I was about to ride him. I leaned forward slowly rubbing the beautiful mini afro he had at the top of his head. I loved his hair, but tonight, it was going to aid and assist in a very dangerous mission. He moaned and lightly placed his hands on my hips. I flinched a little. I hadn’t, until that very moment, realized how his touch would never be the same to me. The second stroke across his hair I moved quick. I grabbed that shit hard and whipped that knife right to his neck. He quickly realized he wasn’t getting pussy tonight. His world was about to be rocked but not like he thought.
I immediately started crying, and the words started coming out without thought.
“You mean vindictive bastard. I don’t know what made you think you could put your hands on me and you were going to get away with it. I am going to kill your ass and make you bleed from every inch of your body but not before I let you know what you have done to me. You taught me through your military training which one of these veins in your neck to cut and cause bleeding that would end your life in minutes. I advise you not to fuckin’ move or I slice that bitch. Do your best to try not to breathe because if I think you are trying to make a move, I slice. You put your hands on me and thought that shit was okay and it’s not. You have bruised my body, my heart, and my mind. I hate yo ass, and the sight of you gives me a rage that I didn’t even know existed in me. You have changed my life forever. For this very reason, yo ass has got to die.”
At that very moment, I saw his ass cry for the very first time and let out a scream that woke everyone in the house. Everybody ran to the room and froze when they saw my mental state. The Lady of the House was the only voice I could hear for some reason. She was trying to talk me out of cutting his fucking neck. I heard her but why in the fuck would I listen to her? She got her ass beat on a regular and did nothing. I was not even almost about to live like that. She was outside her damn mind. She kept telling me to calm down and be cool. She tried to me realize what would happen if I went through with it. That didn’t phase me one bit. It would have been worth it.
At that very moment, Baby Girl started to cry. I could hear her from the other room. That made me cry harder. The Lady of the House begged me to listen to her cry. If I went through with this, I would never hear that cry again. I would be away from the only thing in this world that loved me no matter what. I didn’t know what to do. If I let him go, he would think what he did was okay. If I killed him like I wanted, they would surely lock my ass up for life. I stopped. I got up. Do you know what that bitch ass dude did? He called the fuckin’ police on me. He had one little knick on his neck from the knife, and he wanted to press charges. Even worse, he called the military police from the nearby naval base. When they showed up, they put me in handcuffs. As they were taking me away, I told him they would be back to get his ass. See, in the military, abusing your wife is a major offense that could get you locked in the brigade for the remainder of your time in the service and a dishonorable discharge. While you are in the brigade, the wife will still get your check and your benefits. Yeah, you didn’t know I knew that shit. I was far from a dummy. He stopped them. Military men have a bond and I knew when I said that shit, they would change this shit up, so they started working some shit out. They let me go.
The next day was the picnic. We went to put on a façade and make like everything was okay. It was about a hundred degrees, and I had on this long sleeve shirt to hide the bruises so no one would ask any questions. Earlier while he was in the bathroom taking a shower, I got the phone and hid in the closet and made the hardest phone call I ever had to make. I had to call my mommy. I wanted to go home. By this time, my mommy and siblings had relocated to Indianapolis with the rest of the family. She was living with Favorite Auntie. I was in tears telling her how bad I was beaten. Favorite Auntie got on the phone and told me to secretly pack one bag and hide it. She told me to pretend that everything was fine. She purchased me a Greyhound bus ticket and told me it would be at the bus station waiting on me. The next morning, I was supposed to get up, see him off to work, and catch a cab to the bus station and get the hell out of there. That was exactly what I did.
My first marriage happened way to young in my life and not because of my age but because of my mind-set. That didn’t mean that I deserved what happened. It just meant that I did what a lot of these poor dumb young girls do: walk into some shit they think they have grown enough to do and find out the hard way—you weren’t ready. I learned to listen to those trying to help me make better decisions. I sure in the fuck didn’t want to learn not another lesson that way ever.
Chapter
