She sat on my cot and, within seconds, slid the hanger from under her shirt and hid it under my pillow.
“Star,” she said with a sigh. “Are you sure this is how you want to do this?”
“I don’t have a choice, Dawn.”
I didn’t. The next day, I was being transferred to Cook County Jail to await my bail hearing and the start of my new trial. I had to get rid of this baby tonight. Though I could have been released on bail and would then be able to go get an abortion, I couldn’t take that risk. If they held me without bail, I would be stuck in the County pregnant by a prison guard. I couldn’t risk my potential freedom on that dumb ass mistake, and I did not know the County or anyone in it well enough to pull this off there.
“But like this?”
“I don’t have a choice,” I answered. “How else can I make myself miscarry?”
“What if it doesn’t work?”
“It has to work.”
Then, we could hear the guard announcing lights out, and sadness came over us because we knew that we only had five minutes to say goodbye to a year of sisterhood. I know that it takes a lot longer to make friends that are like family to you, but Dawn had gone through something with me that no one else will be able to relate to, unless they were a part of the elite incarcerated society.
Without warning, I wrapped my arms around her and held her firm with gentleness. “I love you so much.”
I could hear her tears as she spoke, “I love you too.”
I fought my own tears. Had I allowed them to start, I wouldn’t have been able to stop them, because I would have been crying tears that have been fighting their way out for years.
“I don’t want to see you again.”
I wasn’t offended by Dawn’s words. I, too, didn’t want to see her again. I didn’t want to be back in this prison ever again.
“I hope you never do.”
Sounds at the door of my cell broke our emotional goodbye. It was Malik and, in result, dread lay over me like a blanket.
Ever since he heard of my transfer, he had been more reactive than a sneak fuck buddy should be.
On cue, Dawn stood to make her exit. “Love you, baby. Take care of yourself.”
“Love you too.”
I swear, I could still hear her tears as she left my cell and traveled down the hall to hers.
Surprisingly, Malik entered my cell.
Since he was a guard, he knew that he shouldn’t be in my cell without reason, unless it was so late at night that everyone was sleep and the guard on duty on this floor was his friend, so would look out for him.
“Fred’s on duty,” he told me, answering my curious stare.
“The others are still awake though.”
“So.”
This was the problem. He was being overly emotional about this. I knew that he was attracted to me, since he was fucking me on a regular, but he was acting like he was heartbroken that I was leaving.
Just as he sat on my bed next to me, the lights went out. He took advantage of the darkness and the fact that all prisoners were now locked in their cells. With ease he lie me down, untied my pants, and slid them down.
He lay over me with more care than he had ever used with me. Usually, Malik fucks me with aggression and vulgar bilingual threats. Yet, tonight, he was having goodbye sex with me; telling me how, though it was good for me, he didn’t want to see me go.
I let out a slight whence as he slid in and out of me, and he quickly told me, “Sssshh.”
With his hands intertwined with mine, giving me deep and meaningful strokes of good death, he met my mouth with wet kisses.
I closed my eyes and forced myself not to make a sound. I could hear the guard on watch as he shifted in his seat or even walked up and down the block; never coming close to my cell. I could hear the sounds of muffled movements, prisoners coughing, snoring, groaning, and calling the guard. I wondered if it were at all possible that these were one of the last days that I would ever have to hear these sounds again.
I began to feel the recognizable pressure between my legs, so I locked my moans into my throat as Malik rode me with tender ruthlessness. He whispered into my ear how much he would miss me, how much he was going to miss the pussy, how he couldn’t bear to be without me, and how we could finally be together since I was going to be released.
It was all nonsense, but I let him roll with it, enjoyed the goodbye dick, and wished to be so far away from that prison that I could no longer remember Dawn, Malik, their smell, or their touch.
A few hours later, once all was quiet on the block, I slid the hanger from beneath my pillow and unraveled it.
As I cleaned it with alcohol pads that I stole from the nursing office a few days ago in preparation for this, I suddenly became nauseous. My stomach wasn’t upset. Having to do this was just literally making me sick.
My heart beat so hard and fast that I felt weak. I took deep breaths over and over again to keep myself from passing out or regurgitating.
With my pants around my ankles, I lay back and slid the hanger inside of me. I tried to remember the steps that Dawn learned from an old-time prisoner. Apparently, I wasn’t the only prisoner that had to get rid of a baby because she couldn’t explain how she got pregnant without trouble shortly following.
The hanger felt cold against my insides as it slid into me. Instantly, tears filled my eyes, and I prayed that God would forgive me.
It took so long; feeling the hanger as it pierced my cervix and muffling the sounds of my pain into the pillow that I bit into, just to have to do it all over again because the pain prevented me from being able to successfully pierce my womb.
It took forever for me to feel the blood as it finally began to run down my leg.
Though I felt blood, I had to keep going to ensure that the fetus had indeed been pierced. I had to ensure that I caused a miscarriage.
I knew that I was possibly about to kill myself, but I didn’t care. I would have rather killed myself than mess up my chances with this new trial. I would have rather died than been denied my freedom because of Malik.
I use to wonder how long it would take for me to change into the animal that many of my fellow inmates had transformed into.
Tonight, as I lay there inflicting myself with pain and waiting for my fetus to die, I was making that transformation.
Four
Saturday, June 4, 2011
LYRIC
For the past five days, I had been locked inside of my home hiding from the rest of the world. I was too embarrassed to talk to Tricey, Robin, Selena, or Cory. I was too ashamed of explaining to them how I acted and what James had done. I was too ashamed to tell them that despite the proof being right there in my face and despite his cheating and lying, I still missed him.
I was so fucked up in the head that I hadn’t been back to work. I was sick with my madness and obsessed with their audacity. I hadn’t eaten in days. I wished for an appetite, but it wouldn’t come.
To make matters worse, I was working from the computer Tuesday morning and noticed that James was still logged into his Gmail account. I had never felt the need to check his phone, email, or social networking pages. Our relationship was so open that I didn’t feel it necessary. I thought that whatever I would find would be what he had already told me, so it would be a waste of time to snoop. Yet, just like on Monday, I had been proven so terribly wrong.
His email was filled with communications between him and Raven. She loved him, she wanted him to herself, and she couldn’t wait until I was out of the picture. These were things that I already assumed, but to have it there as evident as black and white text sent me into an even deeper depression. To read her loving words, to know how she catered to his every want and need, gave me a dark and miserable feeling.
She was everything to him that I wasn’t; the yes-man, the caterer, and the spoiler. When his lies, infidelity, and plain ‘ol ability to get on my nerves had caused me to shed the catering and trusting woman that I
use to be, for the last seven months she had been showing him that she was ready and willing to go over and beyond the call of duty to be to him what I wasn’t.
She sent him pictures of her dressed in lingerie, in nothing, and in everyday clothes; things that only a woman infatuated and in love does. She asked him what he wanted and what he needed of her. She remembered his favorite colors, so wore them often. She knew his favorite songs. She cooked his favorite foods.
They emailed back and forth. They joked throughout the day about randomness. They sought each other’s advice. They supported, comforted, and healed one another.
They were a couple.
James was just as much her man as he was mine.
Everything that I feared, everything that I assumed, had been happening under my nose and James denied it. He treated me like I was over-exaggerating and continued to fuck this woman, knowing that she was only out to disrespect me; the woman he supposedly loved so much.
TRICEY
Oddly, Blood was in our bedroom, sitting on the loveseat in front of the picture window. He was just staring out of it aimlessly, like he didn’t have company in the living room waiting on him.
“Babe.” I called for him as I entered the room. “Did you know that Devin was in the living room waiting for you?”
Surprisingly, Blood seemed to roll his eyes slightly as he continued to look out of the window. He seemed to be in deep thought, despite the fact that he and Devin had a business meeting that they were already an half an hour late for.
“I’m coming,” was all that he said.
On the inside, I huffed and puffed, but on the outside, I was sure to keep my cool. I knew that Blood was upset with me, but this was getting ridiculous. And since he wouldn’t talk about it with me, I didn’t know why he was upset; if he was mad that I was sneaking behind his back, if he had an inkling that I cheated on him, if he was upset that I was allowing Amiel to be in Ariana’s life, or all of the above.
I went to him; walked across the room in order to sit next to him. I was wearing a pair of shorts, which displayed my thick thighs and hips, with a tube top along with five inch heels. Normally, Blood would have told me how sexy I looked and how happy he was that I was his woman. Instead, he looked me up and down, and back out of the window.
That broke my heart.
I sat on the arm of the loveseat, and instead of putting his arm around my waist or putting his hand on my ass as he usually would, he scooted to the other side to give me more space.
“We need to talk about Amiel.”
No sooner than the words left my lips, he stood up. “No, we don’t.”
“Yes, we do, Blood. I’m going to start letting him see Ariana on a regular basis. I have to.”
Standing at the mirror fixing his clothes that weren’t even messed up, he stared at himself; avoiding my eyes as I stared at his reflection.
“You don’t have anything to say?”
“That’s your business,” he told me. “Handle it how you want to handle it.”
Then, he simply walked out of the room, and I instantly began to tear up. I’d fucked up, royally. Blood had never treated me this way, but, then again, I had never blatantly lied to him either. I felt like he thought that I was like these motherfuckers on the street that can never be trusted.
“What’s wrong, Tricey?”
Iyana’s voice in the doorway brought me out my trance. I noticed the tears on my face and quickly wiped my face.
“Nothing,” I quickly lied.
She immediately told me, “Stop lying,” as she entered the room.
“Did Blood and Devin leave?”
“Yea, finally.” Then she smacked her lips. “Tricey, stop playing. What’s wrong?”
I wasn’t feeling Iyana. For some reason, she completely rubbed me the wrong way. As Devin’s woman, she knew too much and was way too involved. She was touching and running Blood’s dope, and I didn’t like that. She was just too involved in the game too fast for me, so I excused myself and left her in the condo by herself until Blood and Devin got back.
I needed some air. On days like these, it would be perfect to take Ariana to the park so that she could play and I could get some air, but she was with her grandmother. I let her go over there for the weekend. Since Amiel was now demanding to spend so much time with Ariana, my mother and Jordan were going to be seeing much less of her, so I let them have her this weekend.
Since Amiel has his other kids three and a half days out of the week, he wanted Ariana during those days as well. He was demanding this through continuous phone calls and text messages. Initially, I thought I could just simply ignore him and give him what time I saw fit, but it was apparent that he wasn’t having that.
In my heart, I knew that Amiel was simply acting out because I had the “audacity” to choose my man over him. After I told him that I was only willing to give him time with Ariana, he turned enter Mr. Hyde, demanding to damn near split custody with me.
I thought it was ludicrous. I didn’t feel comfortable with my twenty-month-old daughter spending half of the week away from me, especially when he only wanted to spend so much time with her because I didn’t want to be with him.
The whole situation was putting me on edge, so I called Vic, but she didn’t answer. Then, for the umpteenth time, while in the liquor store purchasing a fifth of Ciroc, I called Lyric, and still didn’t get an answer, so, once back in the car, I made the necessary turns to arrive at her apartment. Luckily, her car was parked out front when I got there.
I thought that I was going to be able to go over there, drink, and vent, but when Lyric opened the door, it was obvious that she needed me way more than I needed her.
“What’s wrong with you?!” She looked a hot mess. As I entered the apartment, I took inventory of her appearance. Her hair wasn’t combed. Her face had no color. The apartment was dark and much of James’ things were missing; his X-Box, the flat screen in the living room, and his stereo. It was obvious that they had gotten into it, but if the scratches on her face were from any physical abuse, it was about to be a motherfuckin’ problem.
With a heavy sigh, Lyric lay across her bed and I sat next to her. “This nigga, James, is a trip.”
“What happened? And why is your face all scratched up? Please, don’t tell me that you all got in a fight.”
“He didn’t do this. Veronica did.”
“WHO?!” That shit caught me off guard. I hadn’t heard that name in years. “When in the hell did you see her?!”
“Monday night at Bliss Lounge.”
“Damn, I knew I should have went! What happened?!”
“A lot. I saw her from a distance, walked up on her, and just hit her.”
With a surprised chuckle, I replied, “What?”
“Yes, girl. We started fighting and got kicked out, of course.”
Admittedly, I was smiling. That ass whooping was long overdue for Veronica.
Then, Lyric went into the whole spiel about what happened next; going over Raven’s house on a hunch, seeing James’ truck, knocking on the door with no answer, and then busting out his windows. As she went on about how he came out of the house and Raven followed, acting as if he was her man with no shame, my mouth just dropped. I couldn’t speak as she continued to tell me how she and James scuffled and she was able to get out of there before the police got there.
“Girl, it was all just a hot mess,” she told me.
“Were you drunk?”
“With anger, yes.”
“So what happened with you and James? Have you seen him since? Has he called?”
“He’s been blowing my phone up, but I just ignore his calls. I have nothing to say to him. We have been having major text wars though. I took a lot of his stuff to his mother’s house.”
“But he has a key. Has he tried to come home anyway?”
Her eyes filled with tears as she replied, “No.”
I sighed with frustration for her. “Maybe he’s just giving you s
ome space.”
Lyric’s tears became worse as she continued to speak. “And this bitch all on Facebook posting status messages about how she spending time with her beau and how it’s so nice to have her man at home with her…”
“She’s only doing that to fuck with you.”
“It still hurts!”
Then Lyric told me about their email correspondences that she’d been reading over and over again for days. She’d read them so much that she seemingly knew many of the emails verbatim.
I just shook my head with shame. I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t in the lifestyle, so I didn’t know how to advise Lyric on matters like this. Yet, she looked so heartbroken that I would have paid any price for somebody to help her so that the pain would go away.
Lyric tsked with so much aggravation. “She has been in love with him all this time. I knew it.”
“Why are they emailing each other anyway? Why not text?”
“Because I could have easily gone through his phone and seen it. She knows that.”
“Did he ever say that he loved her back?”
“No.”
“Well, maybe it’s all in her head. Maybe he’s really just fucking her. He can’t control how she reacts.”
“I don’t care if he is just fucking her and this relationship is all in her head. Had he followed the rules and spent only fuck-time with her, we wouldn’t be going through this. This is what happens when you spend quality time with women- on the phone with them, dates, and what not – they fall in love! This lifestyle is supposed to be only about sex for a reason; because sharing emotions with somebody besides your significant other and lying to your significant other hurts and fucks up relationships. He’s reckless with his dick, and it hurts that he doesn’t care about me enough to put his wants aside to ensure that I don’t get hurt.”
Five
Monday, June 6, 2011
STAR
“The State of Illinois against Star Anderson. Counsel, please state your names for the record.”
Good Girls Ain't No Fun Boxed Set (The SIX romance and urban fiction volumes of the LOVE, SEX, LIES series) Page 72
