Love, Lust, and Broken Trust

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
When you mix love and lust, you are bound to cause trouble. But what happens when you have no control over the cards you are dealt? What happens when abuse plays a major part in your life? Take a journey through the lives of twelve individuals. Will their lives unravel, or will they be able to be strong enough to get through it all?

Submitted: July 21, 2017

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Submitted: July 21, 2017

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Chapter 1: Rochelle’s Story

It was around midnight when my mother’s new boyfriend Walter snuck into my room. I lied there with my eyes closed tightly pretending to be sleep. He stroked my long curly hair and whispered my name, but I didn’t respond. Tears rolled down my cheek when I heard him unzip his pants and he began to kiss me roughly. “Please, don’t.…” I said, almost in a whisper, but he didn’t listen. As he penetrated me, it felt like fire ripping through my body. I wanted to scream but I was frozen in this nightmare. Walter grunted as he stole my innocence and the smell of liquor taunted my nostrils. I stared at the large red numbers on the clock next to my bed, time seemed to have frozen. Ten minutes seemed like hours, when he was done he zipped his pants up and snuck out of my room. I lied there crying and balled up like a baby. I was in pain, bleeding, and scared he’d return to do it again. Where was my mother? How could she let this happen to me? I cried and cried until I eventually fell asleep. I was awakened by the sting of a belt and my mother yelling at me. “Rochelle, you done got blood all over your new sheets! Go get in the shower with your nasty ass! You should’ve told me you started your period!” I ran to the bathroom crying and passed by Walter, who thought the whole scene was hilarious. As I passed by he winked at me and chills ran down my spine. I locked the bathroom door behind myself and turned on the shower. As steam filled the bathroom, tears fell my eyes uncontrollably. I removed my blood stained gown and panties before climbing into the shower. Blood danced around the bathtub and down the drain. I scrubbed my skin as if I was trying to wash away how dirty I felt, but I couldn’t get clean enough. My light skin complexion was now redder than a tomato. I stood in the shower crying until the water began to run cold. When I got to my room there were new sheets on my bed and a small package of pads. I got dressed quickly, put on a pad, and got downstairs just in time for my school bus. Everyone on the bus were loudly talking about their weekends, but their voices seemed to be off in a distance. It felt like I was stuck outside myself, watching myself die on the inside. I was only eleven years old and my innocence was stolen. What hurt the most is the fact I couldn’t tell my mother, she seemed so happy and I was almost certain she wouldn’t believe me. Walter had only been in the picture for five months and my mother was already head over heels for him. I’ve seen through his suave demeanor since day one. My father used to beat my mother, so any man that kept his hands to himself was her type. Walter was the first guy she had given a chance since my father had been arrested for shooting a store clerk at a local gas station. I felt lost in this world, I didn’t know where I belonged anymore.

For the next year, Walter raped me every night. My mother made it easy for him because she worked nights. I had become numb to it by now so I just lied there lifelessly until he finished. Each time he raped me, my soul took on a darkness I could no longer escape.

By the time I reached the 11th grade I was labeled the school’s hoe. I had only been with a few guys, but others had lied on my name. I dressed sexy which added to my reputation, therefore, I accepted all the nasty rumors and kept it moving. I had sex to fill a void, an emptiness within myself. Some would even say I was in search of love, but I didn’t believe in love. That didn’t stop me from searching for it and wanting to feel it though. My mom constantly had a new man coming in and out the house. Walter was now a thing in her past and a horrible nightmare that I wish I could tuck away in my past. He was a part of my present and my future without even having to be there physically. I wore the damage he placed upon me like a filthy jumpsuit. There was only one person I had confided in, it was my best friend Tasha. We had become close in middle school, she had always looked past what everyone had said about me. She knew why I was the way that I was, she loved me like a sister and so did her mother. Due to the fact that my mother had a different man in the home every week, I would stay over Tasha’s house all the time. Her mom loved me so she didn’t mind, I practically lived there. My soul felt at ease there and I felt safe, almost like I had a real family. Just when my life was beginning to feel “normal”, my greatest fear came to light. I was not prepared for what was about to happen.

Tasha and I were walking to school together when a guy ran past us with a bag in hand, money falling out as he ran. The screeching of tires made us jump, and before we knew it we were running too, hand in hand. We didn’t know why we were running but in our neighborhood it was like second nature. Gunshots rang in my ear and suddenly Tasha’s hand broke from mine. I turned around to see what was going on just as she was hitting the ground. Blood slowly started creeping from her back and I started to cry hysterically. “Tash, hang in there girl, I’m here. You’re gonna make it, we’re gonna go get ice cream sundaes from your favorite ice cream spot. I was talking to her but was more trying to convince myself. Sirens rang off in the distance and I was on my knees hugging Tasha tightly. Her body went limp causing me to ease her down on the ground. Tears poured from my eyes as I looked down into her lifeless eyes. When the ambulance finally showed up I was lying next to Tasha with my arms wrapped around her. As they gently pulled me away from my best friend I felt myself die inside.

I was back at home and I didn’t eat for days. All I did was cry and sleep, I had locked myself in my room and quit going to school. My mom was so involved with her men she didn’t even notice. The one person I lived for was gone and there was nothing I could do about it. It was as if I was never meant to be happy and I couldn’t go on anymore. I had my mind made up I had to leave this hell on earth I was living. As I walked to the bathroom music and drunk laughter rang through the hallway. I locked the bathroom door behind me and ran a hot bath. I got in clothes and all, I didn’t care at that point. As the tub filled up quickly, images of Walter flashed before my eyes, Tasha’s lifeless eyes stared back at mine. I took apart my razor and with two quick swipes I slit my wrists. Crying from the pain in my heart and from my wrists I sank in the tub until the water was at my chin. I was slowly starting to fade away as the blood streamed from my wrist. A man’s distant voice was yelling about water pouring from under the bathroom door. I could hear my mother yelling my name until I began to lose consciousness. I faded away, welcoming the darkness. I could finally sleep in piece, no longer afraid of somebody creeping into my room.

I was rushed to the hospital and had lost a lot of blood. My mother had called 911 and her stranger for the night had broken the door down. I awoke in the hospital confused but that quickly changed to disappointment and I broke down. Why couldn’t they just let me be?! I didn’t want to be here anymore. Before I was released psychiatrist spoke with me, I wasn’t about to open up to a complete stranger. I was in the hospital for a few more days, on day four they released me. My mother waited downstairs in the car for me, she had not came to visit me at all. Guilt was plastered on her face like makeup, we rode home in silence. I had no words for her and she was too scared to ask questions.

As soon as I turned 18, I was out of my mother’s house. After my suicide attempt I refused to speak to her.  I had been working at Club Erotic since I had turned 17 so it was nothing to get my own place. I had turned to using coke; it took me to a place far away from all my hurt. Since nobody cared about me, I didn’t care about myself. I hung with the drug dealers and partied every night. I went from just dancing to going in the back rooms with random guys that offered a nice amount of money. I stayed high so nothing bothered me anymore, I was dead on the inside and there was no coming back.

I began feeling really tired and sick all the time, so I made an appointment after brushing it off as it being the effects from the coke. My fear was pregnancy because I was too high to make all the guys I’d been with strap up. They took blood and I was relieved that my pregnancy test was negative. They told me they’d run tests and call me back in a few days so I went back to my regular life. Nothing could prepare me for the news I received just a couple days later. “Ms. Washington this is Dr. Lewis from the clinic, I’ve received your test results and I’d like to speak to you today” I didn’t know why she couldn’t just tell me over the phone. When I arrived to the clinic, Dr. Lewis escorted me to her office. I had hit a line of coke in the car to take the edge off. “Ms. Lewis, as you’re aware we ran some tests on your blood samples. Well, there’s no easy way to say this but you’re HIV positive” I heard nothing else after that sentence. The walls closed in on me, I tried to stand and became dizzy. This couldn’t be right, how could this happen to me? Before I knew what was happening I had begun to run out the clinic. My legs felt like rubber but I kept on running. I didn’t know where I was going, I just ran. Once I began to get tired I slowed down, I had ran nearly a block. I stood there on the sidewalk looking at the incoming traffic in a trance, sweat glistening on my forehead. As an 18 wheeler approached my legs gained a life of their own, I began to run towards it. Horns blared in my ears as I jumped in front of the massive truck. Screams filled the street as people emerged from their cars to look onto the gruesome scene. I had finally found my peace, I no longer had to suffer the pains of this world…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 2: Unique’s Story

I was the child of a prostitute and I knew it, but I was never ashamed of her nor did the name calling in school bother me. My mother named me Unique because she said she had never met such a beautiful and well behaved child as I was. I was quiet and kept to myself so I made straight A’s. I had practically grown up in a rundown hotel, it was all I knew besides school. Who needed friends when I had my mother and my uncle Shy (her pimp) that were there for me? Shy got his name from being soft spoken but his reputation proved he was not one to be messed with. Once one of his girls tried to steal from him and run away, a local restaurant owner found her in his dumpster missing her hands and feet. My mother was different from the others, she and Shy had a special connection. I always wondered if he was my father, his eyes always sparkled the way my mother’s did when he looked at me.  My mother had more freedom, she would walk me to school and never missed any plays, awards or conferences. She worked nights while I slept and I always woke to her running her hand through my curls and singing to me with a big smile. My mother was beautiful with long bouncy curls, skin like caramel, green eyes, dimples when she smiled, and the perfect hourglass shape. I always wondered why she didn’t just leave her long tiring nights alone to be a model but I never questioned her. I loved my mother. My mother was Shy’s number one money maker, I liked to think this is why she had more freedom than the other girls. My mother was content as long as I was taken care of and no matter the cost I had it.

My mother was a distant memory now, I was seven when she died. I cannot remember how she died but it still cut me as deeply. A few months after her death, my twin sister came into my life. She wasn’t always around but she was always there when I needed her. Shy took on the responsibility of raising me after my mother’s death, I never wanted for anything and graduated at the top of my class. After I graduated high school, Shy set me up in my own apartment near the college I would be attending. I had been living in my apartment for about six months when my twin sister decided to come live with me. Rhonique was the total opposite of me, she dressed sexy and wore makeup, while I wore classy clothes and no makeup. I wore my hair up and she wore hers down…..Total opposites. I never understood how she could just meet a dude and bring him home. She had sex with so many men that she couldn’t even remember their names. I on the other hand, was a virgin and didn’t mind at all. My sister was a sex fiend and seemed to love it.

I was lying in my bed reading a book when I heard Rhonique come in with a dude. I could tell she was drunk because she was extra giggly and then her door slammed. I put on my headphones to drown out all the sex noises and the sound of her headboard hitting the wall. Sometimes I wish I could just shake some sense into her, other days I envied her courage to be such a free spirit. The next morning Rhonique woke me jumping on my bed. “Unique, girrrrrl, that nigga was the shit!” I groaned and pulled the covers over my head. I couldn’t help but laugh at how childish she was acting. I sat up and listened to the nasty details Rhonique was telling me and we laughed together. My sister was the only one that never judged me for being a nerd or a virgin. When people heard I was 25 years old and still a virgin they’d laugh. Dudes at my college had tried every trick in the book but never succeeded. As if it were like a fantasy, they’d freak my sister and shoot me smug smiles in the hallway at school. Rumors around school circulated that I was a hoe; obviously dudes were salty they couldn’t get in my pants.

After a while Rhonique came home less and less. She had met a guy that changed her ways, she was in love. Still, from time to time she’d come home to check in on me. I would get so mad when she’d go in my room while I was gone, leaving her clothes on my floor. She’d leave makeup on my dresser as if she were always in a rush. She had her own room to make a mess, but she always used mine… When Rhonique wasn’t with me I’d have dreams that I was her, doing all the things that I wouldn’t dare do. One dream in particular felt so real:

I walked in the club wearing a short, tight, black dress that stopped right up under my ass. If I had to bend over everyone would see my goods. I spotted a well-dressed, tall, dark skin man with a pretty white smile and a Caesar cut looking my way. I rolled my eyes playing hard to get and crossed my legs seductively on a stool at the bar. I turned around to order a drink and he came and stood at the bar next to me. Chills ran down my back as his cologne hit my nostrils and I slowly turned in his direction and smiled. He smiled and offered to buy me a drink. We began to talk, all I could focus on were his sexy full lips and white smile. Before I knew it we were back at my place kissing, when he dropped his boxers he was packing a whole nine. We had sex so roughly, so passionately until we both passed out sleep.

I woke up sweating as the morning sun shined in through my window. My dream felt so real and for a minute I understood how Rhonique could be how she was. As I stretched, my foot got raveled up in something under my blanket. I reached under and pulled out a black dress. “What the hell?” I whispered as my hand began to shake. As I sat there confused, I heard the shower cut on. Rochelle must have come home, I needed to get to the bottom of this confusion. As I passed my dresser mirror, I caught a glimpse of myself. I stood there frozen in fear as I stared at my reflection. Makeup was smudged on my face, a lace bra and panty set was clinging to my body. The floor tilted under my feet and I became nauseous. I ran to Rhonique’s room and it was completely empty. No furniture, no pictures on the walls, completely empty. What was going on? I sat in the floor gathering my thoughts and shaking my head in confusion. Deep in my own thoughts, a voice came from the doorway. I looked up and the stranger from my “dream” stood staring back at me. I am Rhonique! That is when the memories came rushing back:

My mother came rushing into our hotel room and began to pack our bags frantically. She was on the phone telling Shy that their actions had caught up with them. A loud knock came to the door repeatedly and with each knock my mom packed faster. “Open the door bitch before I start shootin!” My mother stopped packing and turns to me “Unique get under the bed and don’t come out no matter what you see or hear, baby. I love you sweetie.” She kissed me on my forehead and I did as I was told. When my mother opened the door the beating started until she lay bloody and near death on the floor. The man pulled down his pants and began to rape my mother in front of me as I lay helpless under the bed. The rape seemed to go on for hours but only minutes had passed. The man wore a mask so I couldn’t see his face. I closed my eyes as tears rolled down my cheeks and covered my mouth to muffle my cries.  Just as I opened my eyes, a blade swept across my mother’s throat and she stared at me pleadingly. She pleaded with her eyes to stay put.  She held her throat fighting for her life, fighting to live for me. I heard the man spit on her and with hatred in his voice he said “That’ll teach you to steal from me bitch!” I waited until the door slammed shut until I came out from under the bed. My mom fought her last breaths as life began to leave her eyes. I held my hands over hers to try to stop the bleeding. She gurgled and fought to whisper she loved me before she finally lost the battle. “Mama no! Please don’t leave me! I cried hysterically as I shook my mother as if I could shake life back into her. I cried until my eyes were swollen and painful. Before I knew it I had fallen asleep on my mother’s lifeless body. I awoke to Shy carrying me to his car, my clothes were drenched in blood. He stared down at me with such sadness in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Unique, I’m so sorry” he said as he laid me in the back seat of his car. How had I forgotten? How could I have blocked out such terrifying events? Rhonique has always been me….

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


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