by Jaci J
I wake up the same as I did a few hours earlier, except I’m alone in bed. Getting up, I snatch up the bottle by my feet and pull on some sweats. Walking through the house, I drink and look for Lil. Letting the cool burn of alcohol seer its way down my throat, I drown everything. Every thought, feeling, and concern, I smother it with the liquor.
The kitchen door is open, leading onto the porch when I walk in. Passing the clock, I see it’s two in the afternoon and Lil should be at work, but I know she’s not because she’s been missing a lot of work lately. Another thing I fuck up.
Walking onto the back porch, she’s sitting in a chair with her feet propped up on the railing, staring off in the distance. My tee hangs off of her small frame and leaves a lot of leg exposed. I can see where she wiped the blood on her leg off, but the teeth marks remain and I have to look away. I don’t know why I have to get so fucking rough with my baby. She doesn’t deserve this shit.
Lennie is lying at the foot of the chair and watches me as I walk outside. George is on the seat next to her while she pets him with one hand, and the other hand is holding onto a bottle of Jack. Her face is lost and lifeless and it’s then I know she’s giving up. I can see it and feel it before she even looks at me. I know before I see her eyes and hear the words. I know she doesn’t have anything left to give me.
Looking up she says, “We need to talk. I can’t … no, I take that back. I won’t do this anymore.” She says quietly. Her voice lacks any of that strength I know she burns with. I know exactly what she means, but still I have to ask.
“Do what Lil?” Some sick part of me wants to hear her say it. I want to hear her say the words so I can feel vindicated somehow and blame her. I want the pain of her giving up on me, because I’ve given up on myself. I want a reason to be mad.
“You, me, the drinking, the smoking, all this fuckin’ shit you keep putting me through; All the blame you put on me as an excuse for the way you act. I wish I could say there are more bad times than good, but there are absolutely no good times. Fuck, I can’t even remember the last time we had a good day. This shit is killin’ me Tank,” she whispers harshly.
Tipping her face to me, she gives me those heartbreaking, beautiful brown eyes that are shiny with tears, tearing into my heart. I know I’ve broken her. I’ve broken us. I try to find something to say, some small semblance of shit to fix this.
But my pride steps in. It won’t let me feel bad for her ‘cause it’s her fault I go through this every day. If I’d never met her …
“So what? You can’t do it? You’re the fuckin’ reason for this whole goddamn mess.” This shit isn’t her, but I can’t shut the fuck up. “You made me this way. I fuckin’ love you, and that’s why we’re here.” If I could just let her go.
Turning those big dark eyes to me again she stares at me like she doesn’t know me. Now those eyes are full of tears. Fuck, she look defeated. She never cries and I know this is it. Now, I just need her to finally see it and move the fuck on.
“We will never get past this and I’m not gonna force you to see that if anyone has the right to pissed off and angry, it’s me you selfish piece of shit.”
“Really? Bitch, don’t you fucking see? You are the selfish one. I live every day, every fucking day with the fear I’ll lose you. The fear I’ll have to bury you. So don’t tell me you can’t do this. You’re so goddamn self-centered that you can’t see anyone else’s pain.”
As the words leave my mouth, I register the severity of them. I want to pull them back, but I’m not quick enough. I know they’re cruel and they’re wrong.
“I’m not gonna fight with you. I’m not gonna walk away either, but I won’t be your punching bag anymore. I know you’re goin’ through somethin’ and I wish you’d let me help, but I’m not gonna beg you to.” She says with resolve waving between the two of us. Her mind is made up. She means it. She means every goddamn word of what she’s saying and she has every right, but my ego and the booze speak for me.
“Fuck you, Lil. You don’t know shit ‘bout what I’m goin’ through.” And it’s because I’m too much of an asshole to let her in.
“You’re right, I don’t know what you’re goin’ through because you won’t talk to me. I’m gonna stay somewhere else for a while. We need time apart.” Standing up, she grabs the bottle and takes a healthy drink. When she’s done, she hands it over to me.
“I love you. I always will, but I won’t let you kill us both. For once since this shit’s happened, I’m pickin’ me.” I watch her back as she walks away from me. She’s leaving me.
My heart tells me that I’ll never let her go, but my mind says fuck that bitch.
****
Sitting at the bar with my trusty bottle, I stare at the wall and think. Stare, think, and drink. Drink and drink some more. Lil’s done with me. She’s just gonna walk away? After every fucking thing she has put me through? Do I blame her for it? No. But do I hate her for it? Yes. I feel lost and pissed the fuck off.
I’ve no fucking idea how long I’ve been sitting here now and don’t really care. Got nothin’ at home for me, and I’ve got nowhere else to go. My ass is numb, my back is stiff, and I should eat, but I really just need to drink more. Yep, I need more fucking alcohol.
“Hand me that bottle, bitch,” I snap at Red. Her hands find her hips and she gives me an annoyed glare. Bitch is copping attitude with the wrong asshole.
“Hey bitch! You forget your goddamn hearin’ aid?” Flipping her hair dramatically, she grabs the bottle behind her and slides it to me.
“You’re a real dick,” she mumbles. Stupid ass.
“And you’re a fuckin’ whore, guess we’re even, huh, bitch?” She just glares at me as she stomps off. Bye bitch.
I’m sitting alone at the bar when the new whore starts giving me the eye from across the room. She’s hot. Tits and a pussy, that’s pretty much all that counts anyway. No need to look at her face, she isn’t Lil. Lil. Fuck that bitch.
Lifting my chin at her is all the acknowledgement she needs. These bitches don’t need a second invitation. They wanna fuck and be someone’s Old Lady. I’ll fuck, but that’s all this bitch is getting’ from me.
Gliding her way over to me, she smiles. “Hi I’m Diamond. We haven’t been introduced yet.” She says as she bites her lip. I get nothin’, not a twitch, tingle, not a goddamn thing. This bitch does nothing for my dick, or me.
“What a clever name.” She bats her eyelashes at me and giggles. That wasn’t a compliment. Great, she’s also one of the really dumb bitches.
“Hopin’ we could go somewhere n’ get to know each other.” There’s a classic pick up. Her lip biting and giggling didn’t get my dick hard, so let’s see what other tricks she’s got in her arsenal to get me hard.
My feet drag behind the giggling bottle blonde bitch as she leads me behind her. It’s like my heart is trying to get my body to stop before I do something I’ll regret. Somewhere in the back of my drunk mind, I know this is wrong. So fucking wrong. I know I really don’t want this, but I can’t fucking stop myself either. I need this. Anything to get this shit out of my head. I need her out of my system so fuck it, I’ll try anything.
Pulling me down the back hall, she pushes me into a dark corner. Instantly she tries to kiss me. Before Lil, I didn’t kiss these nasty bitches around here. After kissing Lil and her perfect mouth, there is no way in hell I’d kiss these bitches now.
“I don’t fuckin’ kiss you bitches. Don’t talk and get on your knees.”
She drops down without a fight. Easy, eager and all too willing to suck a strangers dick. It’s sad really, but she can suck away like her life depends on it if it gets me off.
Running her hands up and down my thighs, she’s smiling and moaning at me. Sad desperation is oozing out of her lost eyes when she looks up at me. In my sick and twisted mind, I tell myself these are the best kinds of women. Fuck the independent, strong-willed bitches. They’re too much goddamn work.
These women
are so easy. They’ll do whatever the fuck I want them to do, just to be near me. She wants me the way I am. There’s no attitude, no opinion, no fight, no attachment. You can use them and throw ‘em away.
Running her hands to the waist of my jeans, she bites her lip again. Not sure if that’s to be cute or a nervous habit, but it’s not sexy on her. Her blonde hair is frizzy and messy while her clothes are hanging limply and rumpled on a body that needs to be fattened up. I’m not into fat bitches, but I want my bitch thick. She better look like she can take a pounding. This girl is young and already broken. Bitch can’t be over twenty-one. She doesn’t have to tell me shit ‘cause I already know she’s lived a rough life. Bitches like this are easy to exploit.
Lil’s seen a lot of shit and been through some hard times, but that girl has been well taken care of. This little blonde on her knees keeps glancing up at me for praise for every touch. She’s not getting. The only bitch I praise hates me.
Her fingers find the button on my jeans like a fuckin’ pro. She’s a professional as she pulls it open and reaches a hand inside. Shit’s so wrong it makes me cringe, and still, not a damn thing when she touches me. Her hand squeezes my dick and the unfamiliarity of her skin on mine makes me fucking sick. The guilt builds up ‘till I can’t fucking stand it. Fuck! I just want to forget. I want to get lost for just a few minutes. Lil fucks with me in the worst ways. She’s not even here and she’s still fucking with me.
Pulling away from the sad little blonde, her hand falls away from me and a flash of disappointment crawls over her face. She really wanted this. All these pathetic women in here are dying to be an Old Lady. If they only knew that it takes a special kind of bitch to be one. The brothers sense that shit the moment that type of bitch walks into a place, and they snatch that type of bitch up. These whores never had a chance. Nothing they do will make them Old Lady material. No amount of dick sucking or fucking will get them there. Even if they get made one, it won’t last long.
“You ain’t gettin’ it done, sweetheart.” I lay blame on her ‘cause I don’t want it. She just ain’t her. She ain’t Lil. No woman ever will be.
Fixing my jeans and walking away, I sit back down at the bar to drink some more. Drink and drown that shit out. The little blonde goes back to her seat and gives me her sad eyes, but I just ignore her.
“The fuck ya doin’ drinkin’ alone?” King asks as he sits down next to me.
Tryin’ to forget Lil, tryin’ to drink my life down the goddamn drain, and tryin’ to block out the day. I’m tryin’ to drink shit back to normal, or desperately try to kill myself. Pick a fucking answer.
“Why the fuck not?” I retort instead of laying all my shit down for him. What the fuck else would I be doing? Fixing shit in my life and with my woman? Yeah. Not happenin’.
“Lil’s still bein’ a bitch I take it.” Normally he’d be on his ass for that comment, no one talks about her like that, especially someone like King. But right now, I couldn’t agree more. The alcohol couldn’t agree more.
“Yep.” Filling up a shot, he holds it up to me.
“Here’s to Lil! The bitch of all bitches.” King yells out.
“Fuck that bitch.” I scream.
“Fuck yeah! Drink up n’ let’s go ride.” I think King might understand me after all.
8
Rampage
Lil
“You gonna be alright sis?” Gin asks from beside me on the bed. His back is leaned against the headboard, Peaches next to him. A tub of ice cream, some terrible, but oh so good Taco Bell, two bottles of wine, and a big ass bag of skittles sit on the bed with us. I’m drowning my sorrows in terrible food. My head is resting in Peaches lap as she mindlessly braids my hair. Anything to focus on other than Tank.
“Yeah, I think so.” I lie. Since I left Tank’s, me and my dogs have been crashing here. It’s not home, but it’s comfortable, and it’s family.
“Want me to beat the sense back into that motherfucker? I could punch the stupid outta him too.” He grumbles with his eyes still fixed on his video game. As sweet as that is, I think, I’d rather not hurt Tank any more than he already is. As much as I’d like to punch him myself, I doubt it’d do any good.
“So this is it then?” Peaches asks me softly looking close to tears. I hope she doesn’t start crying. I haven’t cried yet and I have a feeling once I start, I’ll never fucking stop.
Is this the end? God I fucking hope not. Since meeting Tank, I couldn’t imagine my life without him in it. The idea is sickening and it sends me into a desperate panic. I will never just walk away from him, but I can’t sit here and watch him kill himself. I’m not going to pretend that it’s okay anymore. I can’t. It’s not fair to either of us. If he needs me, I’m here. If and when he wants to let me in, I’ll be waiting, but I’ll no longer support his shit. I don’t have it in me to deal with his constant bullshit.
“I don’t know.” I tell her honestly. I’m not going to let him take me down with him.
****
Walking into the local community college library, I look for a head full of long, golden blonde hair. I needed out and away from anyone associated with Tank ‘cause I couldn’t handle any more of the pity and sad looks they were giving me. I appreciate everyone’s love, but I had to get away. I came to see a friend who knows very little about my family.
Lailah is someone I’ve been tutoring. Not that the girl needs it. I swear sometimes she teaches me more then I teach her. She’s damn smart. I guess she’d fallen behind in some classes due to personal issues and needs to catch back up quickly so she’s able to finish the quarter with passing grades. The school board asked that she get some tutoring to make sure she stays on track. If she doesn’t, she’ll lose her financial aid and for her, I don’t want that. I wish I could say helping Lailah is a chore, but it’s not. She’s so goddamn sweet and easy to be around, it actually feels like a relief. We’ve become close these last few months and she’s really helped to distract me from Tank and the whole mess we’re in. Lailah’s a good shoulder to lean on, a good listener, and she’s easy to talk to.
She’d make a good sister I think idly. I could induct her into the Disciples Old Lady club. Maybe for Tags or Crush? Not that I’m an Old Lady any more. The thought rubs that painfully raw spot in my heart again. I’m not an Old Lady. I hadn’t thought about it that way, but there’ll be no more Tank and Lil if we can’t fix this. We won’t be a family like that anymore and that idea hurts and makes me panic, but I have to remember this is for the both of us. I can’t continue to feed into the shit and act like everything is okay. I suck it up, hold my head high, and push those fucking tears away.
“Hey there, love bug!” Big blue eyes and a bright smile find me.
“Hey doll!”
Lailah and I get right to it. We spend two hours working nonstop. She writes and I tidy it up, but there’s not much to fix. She’s smart as hell. Pushing back from the table, she throws her hands up in air and sighs.
“I’m done. If I look at that computer screen anymore, my eyeballs will explode.”
“Right. I’m bored as hell ‘cause you’re not leavin’ me much to fix. You’re too damn smart and already know what you’re doing.”
Rolling her eyes she laughs.
“Sure. Sure. I’ll screw up more so you’ll have something to do.”
“Thanks babe.” Her face sobers and she gives me a soft smile.
“So how are things with your man? Things getting any better?” I give her the whole sad run down from start to finish. She listens and tries to offer some helpful advice.
I love my family more than anything. I love my girls too, but they are biased. The guys’ answers to my problems are usually either something violent, or they tell me to suck it the fuck up. Peaches and Cali’s advice is usually the same, but they add in that I should just leave his ass. Lailah’s an unbiased opinion.
“It sounds like he loves you. I’m no doctor or anything, but it kind of sounds like some form of
PTSD. He’s stuck in the past, in that one moment. He’s terrified something will happen to you, so he’s pushing you away because in his mind, he won’t have to deal with it if something bad happens to you if you’re not around.”
“You’re too damn smart Lailah, but that’s why I love ya.”
“Just an outside opinion.” Stuffing all of her stuff into her bag, she starts to laugh.
“Yeah, I’m smart with some things, and I’m clueless with others. It evens itself out. I’ve got to run to class so text me later honey. And for the record, I think things will work out. Patience is a virtue.”
“Thanks smarty pants. Bye.” Giving my cheek a quick kiss, she’s off.
Cleaning up my stuff at the table, a kid from my last quarter’s class plops down in Lailah’s vacant seat.
“Hey, you got a second?” Damn Lailah for leaving me. I should have followed her out. This kid is a fucking pain.
“Yeah. What can I do for you?” I ask him, putting on my responsible and helpful big girl teacher panties. He begins pulling a wrinkled piece of paper out of his back pocket and he slaps it on the table, unfolds it, and points to a bunch of scribbles and chicken scratches. This should be interesting.
“Since I dropped your class last quarter, I had to take it again. I’m not understanding this paper on Mark Antony and his contributions. I know it’s not your class anymore, but you got a sec to give me a few pointers?”
Thirty minutes later, I feel like I’m still stuck just explaining the directions and premise for the entire paper. Andrew is one of those students who got a free ride through school on an athletic scholarship. He’s single minded and football driven. He means well, but if he spent half as much energy on his school work as he does on the field, he’d be fine, but he doesn’t, so he’s not. My phone starts to vibrate in my pocket and pulling it out, I see Tank’s name flash across the screen.
“I’ll be just a second, Andrew.” He waves a hand at me and starts texting. That could be his other problem.
