by Rochelle Alers, ReShonda Tate Billingsley, Brenda L. Thomas; Crystal Lacey Winslow
“Finish her off,” Big L said to the girls, then disappeared. Panicking, I tried to wiggle free, but I was exhausted from struggling with the four girls. One girl pulled a razor out from her back pocket and began to slice my face as a butcher slices deli meat. My face burst open like fireworks on the Fourth of July. The sharp metal blade separated my face into parts like a math equation. Blood dripped in my eyes, ran down my cheeks, and dripped into my ears. 50 Cent’s song kept going through my head,“Many men…wish death ’pon me…blood in my eyes dog and I can’t see…”
My face started to sting. I prayed, maybe for the first time in my life. Overwhelming feelings of helplessness tormented me as I lay on the ground. I couldn’t understand how I got to this place in my life where someone would seriously want me disfigured. I cried for sympathy.
“Please, please stop.Please stop cutting my face. It’s all I got…It’s all I got…,” I moaned in anguish.
“Shut up, bitch!” one girl replied.
The girls dispersed into the night. I lay there, too stunned to move. I think one of the workers in McDonald’s found me and called an ambulance.
“What’s your name?” the attendant asked. When I tried to respond, a great pain went through my body and I realized that my lips were sliced open as well. I went into shock and passed out.
Chapter 24
Iawoke in the emergency room’s recovery unit. My face felt tight, and my body was aching. I wished it were all a dream, but it wasn’t. I burst into tears, and the nurse ran over to comfort me.
“No-o-o-o-o!” I screamed as the reality of my circumstances hit me.
“Dear child, who did this to you? Do you know? We’ve notified the authorities. They will be here shortly. We were able to get in touch with your mother, and she’s waiting in the other room. I’ll go and get her—”
“No,” I managed to whisper. I didn’t want to see her. I didn’t want to see anyone. I didn’t even want to see me.
The thought of going through the rest of my life with facial scars didn’t seem promising. For the first time in my young life, I thought about killing myself. I wanted to die rather than live my life as a disfigured freak. I didn’t think I could handle people staring at me in pity.
Inside I felt empty. I lay there staring up at the ceiling. A small commotion erupted outside my room, and immediately I became frightened. Had the girls come back? When my curtain was pulled open, I saw Black, Joy, Gail, Stacy, Fertashia,and Big L, all arguing with the nurse, who had told them I didn’t want any visitors. They all pushed past her and entered my room.
Big L and I locked eyes. I knew she had come to see the end result of her madness. This infuriated me, and I flipped out. I tried to get up, but I was weak. I lunged forward at her but collapsed, and Black caught me. He laid me back down, and as the nurse called hospital security. Anger combined with grief started to rise from my stomach to my throat, and I found it hard to breathe. The feeling was stifling, as if someone had put a pillow over my face and applied pressure.
Even though I had yet to see my face, everyone’s facial expression explained to me just how badly I was hurt. They all had a look of pity, except Big L. She looked satisfied.
Black embraced me. “Baby-girl, don’t worry. I’ll take care of you. You just need to convalesce at the house,” he soothed. The pity in his voice made me start screaming like a madwoman. I simply lost it. I started off with a low moan and then hit my crescendo. I was kicking and screaming, “Why, God? Why me? I wanna die…I wanna die…I hate my life.”
Two nurses came running in and pushed Black to the side while they tried to give me a sedative. However, I wouldn’t let them. “Okay, okay, I’m fine.”
“Security is on the way to escort you guys out!” the nurse shouted.
“Baby-girl, who did this to you?” Black said, ignoring the nurses.
Tears streamed down my cheeks as I managed to say, “She did.” He turned around slowly to see just who “she” was, but couldn’t figure out who I was referring to.
“Your friends?” he asked in amazement.
“No. No. Lisa. Big L did this. That girl right there.”
Black got up off his knees to confront Big L, and she punched him in his face. His head went back like a weeble-wobble toy, but he didn’t fall down. Stunned, Black swung back but missed. Big L met Black’s right cheek with a left hook, then followed up with an uppercut to his gut. Instead of Black regrouping, he almost doubled over. Big L hit him with an uppercut right in his jaw that threw Black off balance. He stumbled a little, and when he tried to regain his composure, Big L hit him again. Then again. And again. She pulverized Black within seconds.
Soon hospital security and the police came running. After the mayhem Big L was arrested, and Black was treated and then arrested as well for assault in the third degree.
To say I was devastated would be like saying it’s hot in the summer. There’s just no point.
Chapter 25
My name is Officer Davis, and this is Officer Pollock. Ma’am, could you please tell us what happened to you today.”
The two officers were standing beside my hospital bed with their pens and pads out, ready to take notes.
“I was going to Brooklyn to meet my girlfriend Joy. I waited for nearly an hour, and she never showed up. Suddenly, a lady tapped on my window—”
“Could you describe her?”
“She was ordinary looking. Five feet two. Brown-skinned, tan lips. That’s all I can remember.”
“Okay. Please finish.”
“As I said, she tapped on my window. I rolled it down, and she attacked me. She pulled me through the driver’s-side window, and then three other girls came.”
“Could you give a description of these other assailants?”
“No, sir. I can’t. I’m sorry. Too much was going on…and I was scared.”
“I understand. Please continue.”
“Once I was dragged to the back of McDonald’s, a fifth girl appeared. It was Big L. Lisa. The girl that was arrested in here today.”
“Did you see her face?” the officer said, suddenly excited that they could make an arrest.
“No, sir. I didn’t. But it was her. I could tell from her body frame.”
“What was she wearing? Any identifiable jewelry?”
“She was wearing all black. Her face was covered with dark glasses. But I knew it was her!”
“Ma’am we can’t make an arrest unless you actually saw her. It’s the law. What about this Joy? Do you think she had anything to do with this?” My eyes quickly went over to where Joy was standing with Gail. That thought had never occurred to me. Why hadn’t Joy ever shown up?
“Joy,” I said, and both officers turned around to face her. “Where were you?”
“I didn’t have anythin’ to do wit this. Nicoli and I are best friends,” she said.
“Answer the question. Where were you?” Officer Davis pursued.
“I was gonna meet Nicoli when I met up wit this dude I used to fuck wit. Darren. He came through, and I hopped in his ride. He was ’posed to take me right to Nicoli, but he kept actin’ stupid. By the time I got there, it was already too late. The ambulance was drivin’ her away.”
“Dat don’t sound right,” Gail said, finally breaking her silence.
“Oh, shut up!” Joy retorted.
“No, you shut up. Don’t disrespect my mother, Joy,” I snapped.
“Quiet! Everyone!” Officer Pollock yelled. “Give me this Darren’s telephone number. I need to check your story.”
“Even if I wasn’t with him, that don’t mean I had anythin’ to do wit this shit. I know my rights!” Joy said, suddenly flipping out. “Nicoli know why the fuck she got cut up. Don’t try and pin this shit on me!”
“What does she mean by that, Nicoli? If you know something, you gotta tell us.”
“I told you everything I know.”
“Except a motive. Why would someone want to leave you in stitches?”
&
nbsp; “I don’t know. Jealousy, perhaps.”
“Okay. I think we’ve got enough. We’ll look into the matter. If we find out anything, we’ll give you a call,” Officer Davis said.
“That’s always your excuse!” Joy blurted out. “Everybody’s always jealous of you. Why don’t you tell them the truth!”
“Why don’t you tell us?” Officer Davis said, clearly agitated.
“The reason Nicoli suspects Big L of gettin’ her face cut up is because they were havin’ a fling. Some gay shit was goin’ down. All the while Nicoli was cheatin’ on her fiancé. Somethin’ went down earlier today—that’s why Nicoli called me to meet her. She said she would tell me what happened once we met up. But that time would never come.”
Both police officers turned around now to face me. I was embarrassed, but I decided to come clean if it meant that Big L would get arrested for what she did to me.
“That’s true. We were sleeping together. I couldn’t tell you in front of my fiancé. Besides, it was just for kicks, or so I thought. I ended it weeks ago. Today, I came out, and my car was vandalized. Someone scratched ‘lesbian bitch’ on my car, and I suspected Big L. So I called Joy to meet me. That’s all I know.”
“How many people, other than you and Big L, know about this fling?” Officer Pollock questioned.
“Just Joy. She’s the only other person.” And once again the speculation focused on Joy.
“So Joy could have easily scratched ‘lesbian bitch’ on your car?” Davis interjected.
“Not likely. Why would she do that?” I asked.
“Joy, we may be calling you in for questioning. Just to hear what you may know. Don’t take any sudden trips, okay?” Officer Pollock said, and with that they left.
After the police officers left, I stared at Joy and asked, “Joy, did you have anything to do with this?” My voice cracked as the reality of the possible truth came to light.
“Turnabout is a fair game, and karma is a mutherfucker!” she gloated.
“Joy, answer me. Did you have anything to do with this? Give me a direct yes or no, Joy. Come on, you owe me that.”
“You trifling,ugly bitch! I don’t owe you a mutherfuckin’ thang.” Joy stormed out. That left me speechless.
Chapter 26
After Joy stormed out of the hospital in a fury, I wanted to cry, but nothing came out. I just lay there stunned—stunned at today’s events, stunned at how rapidly my life was spinning out of control. And most importantly, stunned at being called “ugly.”
My mind couldn’t get past the fact that Joy could have set me up. I kept searching for a motive and coming up empty. It was painful for me to go over my past actions toward Joy. I used to make her feel low about her looks. I would berate her with snide remarks. I even stole money out of her purse. I was a real lowlife. And I pretended to be her friend. Was all this animosity building up over time until Joy ultimately hated me?
My mother stayed behind and helped discharge me out of the hospital. I wanted to go and see about Black at the precinct. He’d gotten arrested and beat up defending his fiancé. When we made it to the precinct, we were told that Black and Big L would be given DATs, which meant they would have to appear in court later to answer charges of assault and disorderly conduct. They told me I could sit and wait for Black.
Gail and I sat patiently for hours while they processed their paperwork. My mother had given me her baseball cap to cover my unsightly head, but there was no camouflaging my stitched-up face.
Finally Black came walking out, escorted by a police officer. His lips were busted, and his left eye was swollen. Other than that, I can say he looked a helluva lot better than I did. When I stood up so Black could see me, his eyes hooded over. He pursed his lips tightly together in a thin line.
“He must be embarrassed at being beaten up by Big L,” I whispered to my mother.
“I don’t think that’s it,” my mother replied.
I walked over to Black and extended my arms, expecting him to hug me. He pushed past me and kept on walking.
“Black,” I called after him. “What’s wrong? What did I do? I need you now!” I screamed out in frustration.
Black continued walking, so I ran after him and pulled his arm.
“Am I ugly? Is that it, because if it is, just say so. Don’t torture me like this.”
“Your face has nothing to do with it, Nicoli. It’s your heart I’m concerned about.”
When he saw the perplexed look on my face, he continued, “The police told me. They told me you fucked her. You were fucking her while you were with me. They laughed at me, Nicoli….” He paused, then continued, “That’s what this is all about. While you had my ring on your finger, you were fucking that bitch!” He screamed with such passion, tiny tears of frustration escaped his eyes. I had truly hurt him.
“Black, I love you.” I finally said it to him. “I love you, Black.”
Black stared at me for a long moment. Then he said, “It’s over, Nicoli.”
“Over? What about me? What am I supposed to do now? Where do I go from here? Black, please don’t go. I forgave you! How many times did I forgive you for cheating?”
“That was your choice. My choice is to leave—you chose to stay.”
His logic silenced me.
Epilogue
March 2004
After Black and I broke up, I found out I was pregnant. At first I was really sad. I didn’t want to bring a baby into a broken home. But then, as the baby grew inside me, I grew to love it. For a while Black and I weren’t on speaking terms, but through his lawyer he had promised to take care of our child. Gradually, Black started calling the house and speaking with my mother, asking how I was doing. He was so proud when my mother told him I’d enrolled in college. Still, he didn’t want to speak to me.
I was six months pregnant when Black came over with four deliverymen. They had a beautiful crib, high chair, and car seat. Black had picked out an array of beautiful baby clothing—more clothing than an infant could ever need. He’d bought a host of sleepers and T-shirts in pastel colors, since we didn’t know the sex of the baby.
That was the first time I’d seen him or spoken to him since the incident. We were both cordial. I told him how I was progressing in college and that I attended a Baptist church around the corner. He said he was proud of me, and I could tell he was genuine. My heart hurt just staring in his eyes.
“I miss you…. I miss you, Black,” I said, my voice barely a whisper.
His eyes welled up with tears, and he quickly left.
After that encounter Black would occasionally call me on the telephone. We’d have short conversations, and I desperately wanted to tell him how I dreamed about him every night. I wanted to tell him how much I messed up. I wanted to tell him how much I needed him. But I said nothing. I let days turn into weeks. Weeks turn into months. Hope turn into hopelessness.
No one was ever arrested for cutting my face. And although the wounds healed, the scars remained. And I never got down to the bottom of whether Joy had anything to do with it. She and I aren’t speaking. And that’s her choice. Going to the Baptist church taught me how to forgive.
My mother and I now have a wonderful relationship. She’s excited about the baby. We’re now concentrating on having a mother-daughter relationship as opposed to a sister-sister relationship. I realized that I was a lot like my mother—always in search of someone to love me. Now, we love each other, and it feels wonderful.
“Ouch,” I said. The baby was kicking. “Mommy, the baby’s kicking again.”
“Babies do that, Nicoli. Just sit still. Do you want somethin’ to eat? I’ll fix you somethin’ to eat,” she said. She was always feeding me.
“I guess I could eat a little something. Maybe a sandwich with a pickle,” I said, then continued, “Mommy, don’t forget my pickle.”
Faintly, I thought I heard the doorbell ringing.
“Mommy, is the doorbell ringing?”
My mother walke
d back from out of the kitchen and said, “I didn’t hear it, but I’ll check. Nicoli, you expectin’ comp’ny?”
“No,” I said and watched my mother look at her reflection in the living room mirror.
“What are you doing, Mother?” I inquired.
“I’m just seein’ how I look. That could be my future husband knockin’ at my door.” She chuckled.
“You look fine,” I said. “In fact, you look beautiful.”
My mother smiled, “Thanks, baby. I’ll get the door.”
Stacy and Fertashia came bouncing in with cheer. They came back sporadically to chat and see how I was doing. I could tell that they felt sorry for me. That’s why they came by. All they saw was a girl with her face ripped apart. They didn’t notice that I was happier now because even before my face was ripped apart, my soul was ripped apart.
“Hey, girl,” Fertashia said. “You look like shit. You all big ’n shit,” she teased.
“Nicoli, don’t even worry about it, ’cause you gonna be paid, just as soon as the baby drops. I read that Kim Porter gets fourteen thousand dollars a month in child support from Diddy. I know you can get more money than that.”
“Stacy, don’t believe everything you read. And I don’t need fourteen thousand dollars a month to take care of a baby. That’s just ridiculous.”
“Nicoli, I wish you’d snap out of it! We need your guidance. Girls are upping the bounty out here. They screaming rape with athletes, poking holes in condoms to get pregnant, resorting to blackmail. It’s a jungle out here. If we keep playing by the rules, all the rich guys are going to put their penises on lockdown. We need you to tell us all your secrets. How do we get knocked up by a celebrity?”
“Stacy and Fertashia, if you two don’t get out of here talking such nonsense—I’m a changed woman. You’re talking Greek to me. Now give me a kiss, and you guys can stop by once the baby is born,” I said, dismissing them.
