Thug In My Closet

by La Tonya Morris

  “Yo B,” I heard him whisper.

  I opened the closet door. Malik looked comfortable under a blanket with the pillow I gave him.

  “What you want?” I asked.

  “I gotta pee.”

  “Hold it,” I said.

  Even in the dark, I could see the look he gave me.

  What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t march him up the hallway.

  “Bring me a bottle,” he said.

  Oh, right.

  Down in the kitchen, I couldn’t find an empty bottle. I mean, there were a few coke bottles, but I wasn’t gonna have him pissing all over my closet. I stepped in enough of Daddy’s pee to know that about men. If they can't hit something the size of a manhole cover, how will they get it inside a soda bottle?

  I didn’t have much time, so I pour buncha milk down the drain. My parents were not going to like that at all.

  As I went back to the room, I heard Daddy snoring, so at least that was going right.

  I handed Malik the bottle. He didn’t thank me but said, “I’ma need help.”

  “What?”

  “I’ma need help.”

  I shook my head. I was not about to help him.

  “My ribs is killing me, and you ain’t give me enough medicine.”

  “You took the rest of them?” I asked.

  “Shit be hurtin’.”

  It was so early in the morning, and I needed sleep.

  I wasn’t like him. He couldn't skip school and do whatever I wanted. I had to be in every class every day.

  “C’mon, B," Malik said. Even though he was whispering, it sounded like he was going to die.

  Fine.

  I helped him with his pants. I held my head up and tried not to look.

  He peed for what sounded like a month. When he was finished, I gave him enough time to put it away before I looked.

  Malik ain’t put nothing away. He was looking up at me with a grin on his face as he stroked his penis. It was long and dark. The end was almost purple.

  I never saw one before, and I wasn’t sure what to do. I wanted to kick Malik for making me see something I wasn’t sure I wanted to see. I was also angry that he tricked me into helping him.

  On the other hand, I felt my nipples get hard as my face got hot.

  I didn’t know what to say or do. In the end, I closed the door while Malik laughed at me.

  It took me a long time to get to sleep.

  I wasn't a bad girl. I used to touch myself, but I hadn't done it in a long time. The pastor told the youth group how sinful it was, so I stopped.

  I could have used a bit of relief that night. I couldn’t get Malik out of my head. Okay, what I really couldn’t stop thinking about was the thing between his legs.

  Was I supposed to fit that thing inside me?

  Even though I knew it was a sin, I couldn't stop myself.

  I rolled to my side so that I faced the window. I was trying to be real quiet cause if Malik heard me or said something, I would die.

  I was dying anyway.

  I remembered how he stroked it. I knew it was hard, but I wondered how hard. Was it like a finger or bone or something else?

  I bet it was like nothing else.

  And the way he smiled at me. He wanted me. I wasn’t 100% sure what he wanted me for, but I felt like I was beautiful.

  That was good feeling.

  I thought about his strong hands on my body, sucking on my titties. He didn’t care that I didn't have huge breasts like some girls or that I didn’t have a fat bubble butt. He just wanted me. No, he needed me.

  If he couldn't have me, he was gonna bust open.

  My finger found my privates. I was sticky. I was never sticky before. That was new…

  I felt Malik lift the covers and crawl into bed with me.

  “What are you doing?” I whispered.

  "Nothing, girl," he said.

  When his body touched mine, I panicked. I caught him in the ribs with my elbow. “Mothafucka,” he said.

  “Shhhh, shut the fuck up,” I hissed. I was so upset I actually cursed. I never cursed.

  We heard a noise from the other bedroom.

  We didn’t move at all for a long time, just listening for Daddy’s snoring to stop. He kept a pistol by his bed and a shotgun in the closet. One peep, and it would be over for him.

  Malik and I musta sat there for five minutes. We didn’t move.

  I was hugging me from behind, and everything got incredibly hot where we touched. It felt like I was on fire.

  Malik reached into my pajama bottoms, and I grabbed his hand.

  “Stop playing,” I said.

  “Why?” he asked. “I heard what you was doing.”

  Shit. I was so ashamed that I didn’t even know what to say.

  He kept reaching until his hand was between my legs. I clamped them shut. I didn't want to make a bunch of noise, but I didn’t know how to get him out of my bed.

  I felt like I was going to die. The bed was hot. Malik was hot.

  I was burning up.

  I was going crazy with fear and lust and other crazy feelings.

  Malik and I struggled quietly for what felt like an hour. The more he wanted to touch me, the more I wanted to be touched, but I had to stop him.

  All I could think about was what people would say about me if they found out what I let him do.

  Maybe the pastor could do what he wanted, but not me.

  “C’mon, B,” he said. “Ain’t nobody gotta know.”

  I don't remember if those were the right words or if I was just tired of wrestling with him, or maybe I really wanted to do it. It was such a long time ago.

  I opened for him, and he started fumbling around down there.

  “Easy,” I said. “Lower. No, up. Up. Up. Fuck.”

  Awww man. When somebody else touches you, it's a whole different thing than when you touch yourself. Maybe the pastor told us to stop touching ourselves because it was so much better with a partner.

  Malik had me going crazy in that bed. I was trying to hold still and be quiet, but it was hard.

  I wanted my first time to be special. I was thinking of Will Smith on my wedding night. He’s tall and lean and smelling too good. He crawls between my legs. He’s gentle. He talks to me, tells me how much he loves me. I’m crying as much from his words as I do from how good it feels.

  My first time wasn't like that. It wasn't sweet. It was more like a couple of dogs rutting in an alley.

  He didn't look into my eyes or kiss my neck gently.

  Malik pushed himself into me from behind. I could feel myself tearing down there. I wanted to cry. Instead, I started coughing.

  I had no idea if he was halfway or just starting when he put his hand over my mouth.

  Malik said, "That's what you get for teasing me."

  I had no idea how I was the one teasing in my grandma's housecoat and rollers in my hair. How was I teasing when he pulls his penis out?

  At that point, I had no idea why people made love. It hurt so much I wondered if he had it in the right hole!

  Felt like someone was jabbing me with a steak knife.

  Just when I thought that I couldn't take another second, when I felt that it would kill me, it started to feel real good.

  Every time Malik thrust into me, I saw stars in my eyes.

  It was like a switch flipped, and I understood a lot of things.

  “Fucking bitch, be teasing… Don’t tell me you don’t want that fat D. Have you sucking my dick," Malik said as he humped me.

  I didn't care what he said. Malik could call me anything he wanted to cause when I came that first time, I knew I wanted to do it again.

  * * *

  At school the next day, I was a mess. I was grinning like a fool and then crying my eyes out. I wanted to try it again, but I was scared of the violence. Did it have to be so rough?

  Rough. The word made my nipples so hard that I couldn't move around because they'd scrape my bra.

&n
bsp; * * *

  God, I was so young! Sex, love, desire were so new to me. I left like I discovered something that no one in the world knew about.

  I was free for the first time in my life.

  I remember walking down the crowded hallway between classes. I brushed up against the boys so I could feel them against me. By the time the last class started, I'd taken my bra off and put it in my purse.

  The day dragged on and on. I missed assignments and couldn't answer questions from teachers.

  "Beulah, how do we solve for x if y is 33?" my math teacher asked me.

  I shrugged my shoulders. I knew the answer, but my brain didn't work. I just wanted to go home.

  * * *

  I was two blocks from my house when I saw the car was circling our block. I remember that it was one of those big cars you see in old movies when black people had afros and bell-bottom pants. The chassis was so low to the ground that it scraped the street.

  The car was a weird purple that got brighter the longer you looked at it. The rims were bright gold.

  The driver's arm hung out the window. That nigga did not look like he was playing. The funny thing was that he looked like the cop from the night we got stopped. Except this man had waves in his head instead of being bald.

  There were other men in the car. A couple of them weren't much older than I was.

  They were looking for Malik. I knew that all I had to do was call out to them, and Malik would be gone from this world. I'd never do it, but I had the power of life and death in my hands. I had to ask my mother if I wanted to have a second soda for dinner. So, power was new to me. I made me almost as dizzy as sex.

  In the end, I turned away, walking slowly.

  I hoped the Malik was still there so he could do it again.

  Even then, I knew it was crazy and wrong, but fuck it.

  * * *

  I ate dinner with my parents, as I always did. I was sure Momma knew what was up cause she was quiet. The only time she was quiet was when she was mad about something. Daddy and I learned to wait it out. If we asked before she was ready to talk about it, there was hell to pay.

  Daddy was talking up a storm. I don’t remember what he was talking about. It was fast, nervous jabbering. At the time, I missed the obvious clues.

  I was just tried to look normal.

  In my room, Malik was kissing and hugging on me. I kept telling him that we couldn't do anything until Daddy went to bed.

  "Lemme go check," I said.

  "Hurry the fuck up," he said as he touched my titty one last time.

  Daddy was sitting in front of the television watching football. Before long, he was sleeping in his chair. I snuck down to the kitchen. I know I was quiet, but just as I opened the refrigerator, I heard, “Beulah, make me a sandwich.”

  Normally, I didn’t want to make him a sandwich, but I was thankful for the opportunity to get food for Malik.

  I threw together some bologna, lettuce, tomato, onion, pickles, mustard, and mayonnaise in three sandwiches. I took one to Daddy with some corn chips and a soda.

  “Thank you, baby,” he said. “Your sandwiches showl do be good.”

  Usually, I smiled cause Daddy was so nice to me, but that night I wanted Malik.

  * * *

  “This a bologna sandwich?” Malik asked with a face full of disappointment.

  “We got pressed ham,” I said.

  “Naw, bitch,” he said. “Why you got a salad in the middle of it?”

  “A salad?”

  “Can’t you hear? All the fucking vegetables.”

  I was young and didn’t know no better. So, I said, “Sorry. That’s how my Daddy like them.”

  “I ain’t your Daddy.”

  “You want me to make you another one?”

  He ate the sandwich with a scowl on his face like it was the worst thing in the world, but he didn’t leave a single crumb.

  “So, you liked it?” I asked.

  “Just make another one.”

  * * *

  When he climbed into my bed that night, I was more than ready. I swear to God if he had waited another two minutes, I woulda dragged him out of that closet.

  He slipped in behind me. His cold body stole my warm, but I didn’t give a fuck. I pushed my ass against him.

  Oh shit.

  He was naked! His penis pushed against my panties, and I started shaking.

  “Do that thing with your fingers,” I said. It had been only two nights, and I lost all my little shyness.

  “You like that?”

  I grabbed his hand and pulled it inside my panties and where I needed it to be. I swear I was gonna die if he didn’t give me some release. He touched me between my legs, and I just about lost my mind.

  As soon as I felt his fingers, something inside me jumped, and it kept jumping.

  After a few minutes, I had enough. I pushed Malik's hand away.

  He pushed his penis into me from behind. It was more comfortable than the night before but really tight.

  I couldn’t have moved if I wanted to. Malik's hands were wrapped around my body. His hot breath was in my ear.

  “Love them titties,” he said as he squeezed my breast.

  I know he didn’t say that he loved me, but it was close enough in my mind.

  He didn’t fuck me long, but it was sweet as anything I felt before or since.

  To this day, any man that wraps me up like that will have me gushing in 30 seconds flat.

  * * *

  “Wake up.”

  I shot up, thinking that we’d been caught. The fear shot through me with such force that I expected to see Daddy standing over us with a shotgun.

  No, it was just Malik. The clock said it was 5:22 am. Daddy must have just left for work, but it was still two hours before I usually got up.

  “Where’s Daddy?” I asked.

  “Just left.”

  Malik was standing by the bed. He was still naked. He had that groove in the middle of his chest from working out and nipples that I wanted to pinch like he’d pinched mine. Hell, I wanted to suck on them and see if he liked it.

  He pulled my head down toward his penis. As soon as I smelled it, I pushed him away.

  “What are you doing?” I said. I kept my voice low. Momma didn’t get up until 10:00, but that didn’t mean that I was gonna wake her up early.

  “C’mon now, this dick ain’t gonna suck itself.”

  “I ain’t doing that,” I said. In my mind, we could have sex cause it was making love, but if I was to do that, then I was just another street ho.

  I can’t believe how young and stupid I was.

  “What I say?” Malik asked me.

  Malik had that same nasty look on his face that the man in the car. That man was out for murder, but Malik was different. He had to be. I wasn’t in love with a thug, and I was gonna prove it.

  “Naw, I ain’t doing that.”

  I can say that he didn’t argue, and I can say that he didn’t hit me. But Malik was a thug even if I didn’t want to believe it.

  The next thing I knew, he held my head between his legs. By the time I thought about squeezing my booty cheeks together, he had spread me open. He shoved his fingers inside me, and I started to squirm.

  “Malik, stop it,” I whispered.

  I was between a rock and a hard place. All I had to do was yell, and Momma would call the police. That would ruin Malik's life if his gang didn't kill him first.

  He was moving his fingers inside my asshole while he touched my button, making me all hot. It was all I could do not to scream. It felt good in the front, but the back felt like I was trying to squeeze a cabbage out.

  “Hold on,” he said.

  He fumbled with a bottle I kept by my bed. I can’t remember if it was hand gel or foot lotion—I didn’t care. It just gave me a bit of relief.

  It didn't feel as bad when he lubed his fingers up.

  “You got a choice,” he said. “Either this dick is going your mouth or your
ass.”

  I can’t say that I liked how he did it, but as an adult, I see that I was about to learn a skill that would save my life and put food on my table.

  When I took him into my mouth, it changed both of us.

  I didn’t know what happened to him in his life. I knew he lived with his mother and that he didn't know who his father was. I knew the police killed his brother and a cousin.

  Malik lived the kind of life that would have killed me.

  That made him angry all the time. I could see it in his body. After a few seconds of working on him (I did know to suck and not blow), I could feel the change. Even when he started pumping in my mouth like he was trying to kill me, I could feel the power shift. I got the same feeling I did when I could call out to that man in the car.

  I saw how weak it made Malik.

  Weak was not the word. It wouldn't be for another few years before I learned the word.

  Vulnerable.

  That nigga was like putty in my hands.

  “I’ma cum. Swallow my shit,” he said.

  I pulled out and rubbed his dick a little. When he put it back in, I thought he was pissing in my mouth, but I grabbed my head.

  I didn’t even think about biting him.

  "Suck that shit down," he said.

  He pulled away again. A long string of white hung from his dick to my lip. I felt like I was holding a spoonful of salt in my mouth. I went to spit it out.

  “Naw, naw,” he said. “You got to swallow that shit.”

  I shook my head. He got what he wanted. Why did I have to swallow it too?

  “Look, if you gonna be my girl, this is how it was gonna be.”

  His girl? He wanted me to be his girl? I gulped.

  * * *

  The next day was crazy. Some girl name Tempest was giving me shit, and I told her to fuck off. She didn't like that at all.

  She wanted to fight me after class. Before that happened, I told her friend something that I overheard. I have no idea what it was, but they fought hard after school, only stopping when they were pulled apart.

  * * *

  When I got home, Malik had left. I assumed that he saw a window to get away, and he took it.