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iknowff · 3 years

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. three : talkative

I had been blessed with a very rare situation. Cam hadn’t left for work, yet I was home alone. He always requested that I cook the day before his flight, but, today, we didn't have all of the necessary ingredients for whatever he was asking for. I didn't care enough to remember what he wanted and, since my jaw was still a little puffy and a few marks remained around my neck, he was also forced to make the grocery store run on his own. After he had been gone for a solid ten minutes, I saw my opportunity. I hadn't actually spoken to O in ages, so I decided to call him up while I had the chance.

“Awww, man,” he answered, in a groggy tone. The deep, sexy ‘morning’ voice was in full effect. “Look at the Lord working on this fine Sunday--what time is it?--afternoon.”

“You know what?”

The comforting melody of his laughter fell into my ear. I had been craving it for the longest. “What’s up, pooh?”

“Hey, my boo boo boo boo bear,” I half mumbled, employing a voice usually reserved only for babies. He laughed again, this time I joined him.

“Yo, I miss you.”

“I’m saying. I wanted to hear your voice.”

“Yeah, I almost forgot what you sound like.”

“Anyway,” I giggled. “You actually sound like you were sleeping. Did I wake you?”

“You most definitely did.”

“I'm sorry.”

“It’s all good, I ain't trippin’. What you up to?”

“You sure? ‘Cause I can let you go back to sleep and just talk to you later.”

“You about to hang up on me or something?”

“No, I'm not hanging up on you,” I barely replied, laughing way too hard. It even hurt my jaw a little. “I'm just trying to make sure you good.”

“Why wouldn't I be good?”

The silliest smile found its way onto my face. I was so glad he couldn't see me. “Ok, I’m done.”

When I saw her name pop up on my screen, I knew she was alone. This would’ve been a text conversation for sure. The only time we really got to talk was when she was here. Which was spaced out, but still pretty often. Her first visit was my suggestion. She sounded like she needed to get away, so I offered up my place. Understandably, she was reluctant, but decided to come a week or so after the initial invitation. We had been knowing each other for about six months then, and I felt cool enough to share my space with her. When she got here, all she wanted to do was stay inside. I didn't press her, because I was sure there was some fear involved, but I did eventually convince her to hit the streets with me. Ever since, her getaways became customary. She would hit me the day before her dude was leaving, and I’d plan to pick her up as soon as I could. She’d stay with me for two weeks, then she’d go back home for a week before she returned. She said it was because she didn't want to wear out her welcome. I told her that wasn't even possible, but I let her do it however she felt most comfortable. Either way, I enjoyed her company. The arrangement wasn't the most ideal of situations, but I just couldn't shake the fact that shit was just better when she was around.

“Um hmm. You by yourself?”

“Yeah. He just went to the store.”

“Ok. So, what you up to?” I asked, referencing my earlier question.

“Sitting in this house looking ugly,” she said, giggling at her own lie. “I been missin’ you, too.”

“When I’ma see you then?”

“He leaves in the morning.”

I can't lie, I always looked forward to this news. My grin was so wide I wouldn't be surprised if shorty could hear it through the phone. “Yeah? Well, I can come through tomorrow. Or you wanna wait a little bit?”

“Wait for what?”

“I mean, I was just checking. It's whatever you wanna do.”

After a slight pause, she smacked her lips and laughed, catching that this was just my way of getting her back for trying to hang up on me a second ago. “You are not funny.”

“So, you want me to come tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow, O. Definitely tomorrow.”

I chuckled, hearing her try to speak through her giggles. “I'm messing with you. You know I'ma be there.”

“Um hmm. What time?”

“What time you gon' be ready?”

“Around eight-thirty or nine.”

“I’ll come at nine.”

“Yeah, that’ll be perfect. I can't wait to see you.”

“Me either. It's been a while.”

“It has. I miss your face.”

“Yeah?”

“Um hmm.”

“What you miss about it?”

For some reason, I started to blush instantly. I sat back, twirling a piece of my hair, snickering into the phone. “Anyway.”

I heard him laugh a little. “You are a trip. It’s good to hear your voice, though.”

“Yeah.” I just wished that he and Cam were more alike. Or that they could switch places, or something. O was just everything, the same way I knew that Cameron could be. But, somewhere along the way, I guess he had forgotten how to show it. “…Oh, yeah, I dreamed about you last night. We were dead ass flying.”

“What was this one about?”

I almost always shared my dreams of him with him. Only because they had all been mostly innocent. Up until last night. If I would've been thinking, I wouldn't have even mentioned it. Now I had to tell him. But no way was I about to tell him everything. “You came here, left with me, and we didn't come back,” I half lied.

“Hmmm.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, you know what I told you.”

“Yes,” I smiled. “I know.”

“Um hmm. Ain’t nothing changed. Whenever you’re ready.”

I bit my bottom lip, so taken by his words that I couldn't even say anything. Omari had always been honest with me. From the beginning I knew that our friendship was important to him, but I also knew that his interest in me went much deeper. I really didn't know what to do with that.

“So, what we doing tomorrow?” He continued.

“I'm just happy to be getting away for a while.”

“You say that every time I ask you what you wanna do.”

I smacked my lips at him. He was already fully aware that I was the most indecisive person on the planet. “But it's the truth. I would come over there right now if I could,” I confessed.

“I can be there in like twenty minutes.”

“Omari, no,” I laughed. He was a mess and then some. Knowing he lived more than twenty minutes away.

“You always giggling. Goofy self.”

We talked for about forty-five more minutes until Cam got back home. I was already downstairs in the kitchen, so I could easily hear when he pulled into the garage. Though I was nowhere near ready, I told Omari I had to go and hurried to erase all evidence of our interaction. First his number from my phone, then the smile from my face. Right before Cam walked in with takeout from King Spring, my favorite Chinese spot.

“I got Chinese. I thought maybe you would like that better than cooking.”

Barely even looking his way, I responded with a weak grin. Only because I really didn't feel like cooking. Especially not for him. “Yeah, thanks,” I mumbled, unimpressed. He sat the bag up on the counter and passed me the carryout box from the top, along with a handful of duck sauce.

“You're welcome.”

We washed our hands and he took a seat beside me up at the island as I began to squeeze packet after packet of duck sauce onto my combination fried rice. I wasn't stuntin' his ass, but I was past ready for the food he was failing to bait me with.

“Um... can we talk?” he had the nerve to ask.

“Cameron, seriously?”

“What?”

“You know what.” I stopped, focused on stirring my rice. “...I really don't have anything to say to you.” I started to eat, quickly forgetting that I had been punched in the jaw just a little over a day and a half ago. “Aaah,” I winced, grabbing my face. For some reason, he reached up and placed his hand to mine.

“I'm sorry.”

I dropped my arm down into my lap, mainly because I wanted him off of me. Why he felt the need to touch me at the moment, I had no idea. “Yeah, I know. You told me,” I replied, wondering if he could sense my mild sarcasm. I replaced the food that had fallen from my fork, this time being a lot more careful not to aggravate my injury as I ate.

“You still mad at me?”

Once again, my attempt to satisfy my hunger was cut short. I slowly turned to look at him and slumped my head in disbelief. He couldn't be serious. “Look at me, Cameron. Look at me. Do you see this?” I asked, holding my hair back to make sure he could get a clear view of my face and neck. “This is you. I didn't do this.”

“But, baby, I apologized for that. I'm sorry.”

He was serious indeed. So much so that I lost my damn appetite. I turned away with a frustrated sigh, allowing my fork to fall from my hand. “Cam... can we please just let it go?”

I did not have the energy for this shit. No matter how hard I tried, I could never make him understand that his ‘sorrys’ didn't reverse my pain. They didn't take away my scars. They didn't erase all of the bad memories or make me feel more comfortable in my own home. But, still, they were all I ever got from him. And, quite honestly, I was sick of being lied to. Because, if he were ever really sorry, he wouldn't have to repeat it over and over. Because he wouldn't keep doing this shit to me.

“So, that's it? You don't wanna talk to me?”

“I don't. I don't wanna talk to you about anything right now.”

“...Aight ...ok.” I decided to just leave her alone and let her eat. I went back to my plate as well, but then I realized she wasn't eating with me. “You don't want the food either?”

“I'm not hungry.”

I sighed and looked away for a second, more upset with myself than anything. I had overreacted. She said she didn't call me someone else's name, maybe she didn't. I don't know. It’s like, when it came to her, I could turn into something so ruthless. I just loved her so much. And I’d never had to doubt her love for me. After twenty-seven years of life, I hadn't come across anyone like her. She had stuck with me through everything, given me her love, sacrificed herself and her own happiness for me. Somebody who didn't even deserve it. But I could sense her starting to get tired early on. That's when I knew I had to make moves. We needed to get far away from Atlanta. I had to become all she had. It was the only way she would stay. And God knows I didn't wanna lose her. But I wasn't treating her the way a man should. At some point, she had become like a possession to me. Maybe it was because she was untouched before me, but I just felt like she was mine. And the thought alone of another taking my place was enough to push me over the edge. I had no idea what I would, or wouldn't, do if the shit actually happened and that scared me. I don't even know if it was in me to restrain myself anymore.

One thing I knew for sure, I was a different guy when we first started. It was never my plan to turn into this horrible person. In fact, my goal was the opposite. I wanted to be good to her; the way she was to me. I didn't want to use my hands to cause her body harm. It wasn't my intent to employ my voice in a way that would make her feel unsafe or less than the amazing woman she was. But the ability to control those impulses was something I had long lost. All the shit she was working with could drive the soundest mind mad. She was damn near perfect. Which was why I didn't understand myself in the least. Most people would kill for what I had, and I couldn't even handle it.

“Baby, I can't leave here tomorrow with us like this.” She looked over at me, her face void of any expression. “What I gotta do?”

Not a single solution came to mind and I had grown tired of him trying to force me to talk to him, so I got up and put my food into the microwave. I quietly left the kitchen and made my way upstairs to lie down in the bed I had been banished from and then reinvited to on many occasions. I fought so hard not to cry, but I did not win. Tears ran from my eyes like faucets as I hugged my pillow, wondering if he knew the depth of the pain he was causing me; if he even cared.

After a few short minutes, I felt his side of the bed sink behind me. I knew he would end up there. He always followed me around like a puppy when he'd done wrong. Which was the opposite of what I wanted him to do. But it always got him the result I guess he was looking for…

Once he was done fucking my brains out, I had to coax myself into not throwing up. I felt disgusting. Still, I had to make it seem as if everything was ok. Because, to him, it was.

There were many things that had changed about Cam over the years, but one that had remained the same was his ability to appease me sexually. I didn't like to admit it, but the way he used his body made me absolutely stupid. And, in knowing this, he often took advantage.

“I love you. So much,” he claimed, out of breath.

I smiled up at him, playing along with this sick game. “I love you.”

Hours Later

We were still laid up; facing one another, legs tangled, and wrapped in each other's arms. His eyes hadn't left me once, and neither had his hand left my face. His caresses were endless and so were his kisses. When his lips weren't pressed against me, they were in my ear reciting countless I love you's. The guilt had him laying it on extra thick.

This was usually the time where I'd begin to exact my sort of revenge. For about the next week or so, I could get anything I wanted out of him. I had attained my phone, laptop, and use of one of the cars from time to time this very way. But, with this particular instance, I wasn't even interested in gaining anything. His leaving was enough for me.

“I don't wanna let you go,” he whispered, before kissing my lips for about the hundredth time.

“You better go pack.”

“Shit, I don't even have to leave tomorrow.”

I almost frowned, but, luckily, I caught myself. He did not need to start with that shit. No way was I about to agree with him. “...I think you should,” I somehow mustered up the courage to say. He didn't reply, but the slight confusion all over his expression was enough. “Baby, it's your job. You need to go.”

“I wasn't serious. I just wish I didn't have to leave right now, you know?”

“Yeah.” I reached and put my arm up around his neck, giving him yet another kiss. A grin spread across my face after, but he didn't seem so thrilled anymore. “It’s gonna be ok, baby. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

About another hour later, he finally left the bed and started to get his things ready. Needless to say, I was elated and it definitely showed. I didn't even bother trying to hide it. I was nothing but smiles and giggles, and this nigga had the nerve to believe it was because of him. Seriously? How could he possibly think that he had anything to do with my newfound joy? Anything!

“It's good to see you smile again,” he told me, smiling himself. I didn't say a word. I just smiled wider, and way goofier, which only made us both laugh. “Silly girl.”

It was almost funny how clueless he was. He would probably lose whatever morals, religion, and sanity he had left if he knew I had found so much comfort in another man. Especially one who was without a doubt more attractive than him. But that was a risk I was willing to take. O was worth it.

“You not gon' help me, though?” he asked, fake pouting, trying to persuade me. I usually did help, but tonight I was exhausted. Plus, I didn't wanna help.

“I'm tired, boo.” Just as I finished speaking, a perfectly timed yawn followed. “See?”

“Damn. I probably should've done this before, huh?”

“Maybe,” I giggled, “but it's too late now.”

He laughed to himself and continued to fill his luggage as I rolled over, not worried about him or his clothes. Only one person was on my mind, and my longing would be cured in just a few hours

#original fiction #original characters #black characters

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iknowff · 3 years

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I Know : Chapters

abstract

introduction

one

two

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iknowff · 3 years

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. two : the connection

6:02am

I was dreaming about Omari again. For some reason, he came to me often while I slept. He had picked me up, as he usually did, but, somehow I knew that I wasn’t coming back this time. I was clueless as to where we were, but I also didn't have a single worry. I was with O and I was safe. That, I was sure of.

We were flying through the air, which wasn't odd for me because I’d had more than a few dreams where I could fly. Still, there was a difference. Whenever I’d be flying, I was usually doing so because something or someone was chasing me and I had to get away. And it was usually very dark as well. But now, I didn't discern any danger and everything around us was shining so brightly. I’d also never been able to actually stay up there. Whenever I’d stop flying, I would immediately start to float back down. That wasn't the case here. We stopped and were just suspended in the sky with no effort. He laid me down on what felt the way I thought a cloud should feel and, starting at the top of my head, he kissed my scars one by one. In some miraculous way, they all disappeared with a single touch of his lips. Amazed, I smiled and watched as he continued to make his way down my bare body. At first my nudity confused me, as did the lack of discomfort that came with it, but, when he reached my Love, I no longer cared. My grin slowly fell as he spread my legs and, without an ounce of hesitancy, he began to spoil me with gentle kisses. I was stunned, but it never entered my mind to stop him. I had to admit, it felt good.

“Oh my... aaah,” I moaned softly, lacing my right hand with his left. It was almost like I could actually feel his tongue slipping around a part of me that only myself and Cam had ever touched. However, in this illusion, I had no problem with that fact becoming fiction. Though I had moved past the initial shock, unfortunately, I could sense my sleep coming to an end. He started to fade away as my eyes softly fluttered open, but there was still someone between my legs. And it wasn't Omari. I looked down and Cam had my thighs stretched wide, one arm across my stomach, licking the shit out of my pussy. I tried to get away, but my every pursuit was quickly shut down. Whenever he realized that I was trying to escape his firm grasp, he licked faster, sucked harder, rubbed deeper.

No matter how hard I fought, my body began to respond on its own, grinding into his face. Before long, my hips were in the air, he was buried between my lips, and I had relinquished all control. I gripped the couch with both hands in an attempt to evade the floor. “Fuck,” I whined, so upset with myself. Then the self betrayal reached a new level as I clenched my eyes, having the most regrettable orgasm ever. I hated giving him the satisfaction that, even at a time like this, he still had the power to make me cum. My body fell into the cushions and I hid my face, embarrassed. I don't know what the fuck he thought this was doing, because he hadn't swayed me whatsoever. I felt no different about things than I had before.

He came up with tears in his eyes, apologizing and telling me how much he loved me. “You know I love you. With my whole heart, Jade. I'm sorry.” Seeing him cry shook me up a bit, I won't lie, but I was so far away from succumbing to his will.

He came closer and laid his head on my chest. Not even the smallest part of me welcomed the contact, and I was not about to let this be over so easily. “It's not... that simple.” He looked up and I reached to turn on the lamp behind us. “Look what you did to me.” My neck held marks from his fingernails, my scalp was bruised, there were noticeable rug burns on my knee and both hips, my face was so badly swollen that a small cut had formed at the corner of my mouth, and there was blood stuck on my gum line and between my teeth.

“Oh my God.” He quietly examined every injury, running his fingers gingerly over the damage, seemingly frightened by my appearance.

“This is love, Cameron?”

“I'm so sorry, baby. I swear, I'm gonna work on being better. I don't wanna do stuff like this to you. I'ma get help.”

I didn't fall for any of that shit. Sadly, this was the routine. I'd get my ass beat, then I'd get fucked, next was the apology and last came the promise of counseling. A promise that he never kept. This was my life now. A life that I could not have imagined in my wildest dreams.

Cameron Makisig Taylor. He wasn't always this way.

We had been together for five years now, the first three being probably the most happy years of my adult life. He was always such a sweetheart. He'd call or text just to hear my voice or tell me he loved me, bring me flowers for no reason; you know, just little things to show me he cared. We would talk for hours about anything, and nobody could make me laugh as hard. We were just in tune with one another, damn near inseparable. But, shortly after the situation became a little more serious, after we moved in together, everything changed. Out of nowhere, he just switched up on me. All of the sweetness was replaced with constant anger. It started with him taking my car. To this day, I still have no idea what he did with it. Without a ride of my own, though, I couldn't go anywhere or do anything without him. But he somehow always found a way to accuse me of stepping outside of the relationship. Which I never understood. I made the decision to stick it out, thinking this behavior was only temporary. However, after two years had passed me by, I learned a major lesson; fun wasn’t the only thing that made time fly. Misery did it just as well.

He moved us to Los Angeles from Atlanta about a year and a half ago for a chance at better career opportunities, he'd claimed. But, the more thought I gave it, the more I began to believe there had been some malice behind his motives. I was taken so far away from my family, or anyone I knew for that matter, that I had no choice but to spend all of my time with him. I wasn’t even sure what it was that he did. He had a couple of degrees and he was working for some company before we came out here. Whatever he was doing now required him to leave home for months at a time, usually around two, and his salary was ridiculous. That was where my knowledge ended. I had my suspicions, but I knew better than to question him about anything. I'd just convinced myself that as long as the bills were kept current and we weren’t living on the street, everything was ok. He wasn't the least bit stingy with his leftovers either. He just made sure to monitor my transactions very closely. Shopping had become a way of life for me. It was basically my therapy.

Almost as soon as we got to Cali, he left for work. For a whole week, I stayed inside, afraid to leave the house. Not only was it a new scene for me, but I was heavily intimidated by the fact that I wasn’t familiar with anyone in the entire state. Then one day, feeling unusually courageous, I just got an Uber. After a little convincing, along with some financial compensation, that lady drove me all over LA.

I met Omari that day.

I walked into this sneaker boutique just to look around and there he was, standing with four boxes beside him and still browsing.

I recall thinking he had a nice deep brown, caramel complexion with really smooth looking skin. His hair was how he always wore it; in neatly twisted braids that ran straight back, falling a copious amount past his shoulders. He had just enough facial hair and it was groomed perfectly to match. Likewise, he was dressed nicely in jeans and a crisp white v-neck tee that hugged his toned arms and chest perfectly. The black diamonds in his ears glistened in the sunlight, as did the gold beaded bracelet around his wrist. His feet held a pair of black high top Chucks and I caught a Louis Vuitton belt peeking from underneath his shirt right before I turned to mind my own business. Long story short, he was very well put together... and so damn fine.

I still remember like it was yesterday.

“Um, I know it’s a lot, but can I get these in an 8?”

“Oh, no problem.” The associate, who had just been helping him, eagerly studied my selections. Her memory must've been outstanding, because I definitely would’ve had to take my phone out and snap a pic. “I'll be right back”.

I smiled, thanking her as I resumed my search. I wasn’t exactly interested in anything else, I was more so making the conscious effort to keep myself distracted. I had briefly considered taking a seat when, from the corner of my eye, I could see him starting to come over. I immediately threw all of my attention to a pair of kicks in front of me. They weren't even cute, but that was neither here nor there. I just needed to conceal the fact that I had been checking him out something serious on the low.

“Hey,” he rasped, once he was standing next to me. I turned to him and he had the cutest grin on his face. I couldn't help but smile back. Plus he looked even better up close.

“Hey.”

“I don't mean to interrupt, and I know you don't know me, but… I just had to come over and say hello. You are beautiful.”

Completely caught off guard, I blushed almost instantly. My ears weren't even tuned for that type of compliment anymore. He was serious, too. I took my gaze down for a moment, using a slight laugh as part of my recovery. “Thank you.” And upon realizing that I liked this guy and didn't want his good smelling self to walk away, I decided to go ahead and introduce myself. “Jade.”

“Omari. Nice to meet you.” He extended his hand to me and I obliged, giving it a shake.

“Nice to meet you, too.”

“So, um, where you from? If you don't mind me asking.”

“How you know I'm not from LA?” I jokingly asked. I was nowhere near being from LA, I just wanted to see what he would say.

“I can hear it in your voice.”

I chuckled, fully aware that my accent had given me away. “Yeah, I'm from Georgia.”

“I knew you were from somewhere down south.”

“Yep. So, you from here?” I returned my attention to the wall of shoes in front of me, trying not to stare.

“Yeah. Been here all my life.”

“Ok,” I nodded. “I've only been here for a couple weeks.”

“Oh, for real?”

“Yeah. Today is actually my first time getting out of the house, believe it or not.”

“Well, maybe I can show you around my city sometime.”

And, just like that, I was back. “Maybe…”

I hadn't been able keep him out of my sight for more than a few seconds, but his proposition had warranted at least a glance; I had to see if he was playing around. The deliberate eye contact I was met with only erased some of my doubt, still his confidence was a turn on for certain. I was smiling at him, he was smiling at me, and I was more than sure that he was in possession of the prettiest smile I had ever seen. His lips were on point, too; nice and full with a couple beauty marks adorning the bottom one. I found myself licking my own lips, wondering if his were as soft as they looked.

Right in the midst of a moment that needed to be disrupted, the saleswoman walked over toting my five boxes effortlessly.

“Thank you,” I told her, not just for the footwear, but also for breaking me away from whatever this was. I mean, I was stuck.

“You're welcome. I'll be at the counter when you're ready, and let me know if you need anything else.”

“Ok.” I sat down on the bench and came out of my left shoe, grabbing the first box from the stack. “So, Omari…”

“Yeah?”

“You do this often?” I quizzed, slipping a fresh sneaker onto my foot; undeniably one of the best feelings in the world.

“Do what?”

“Just walk over to random women and start conversations.” I grinned up at him standing beside me and he chuckled.

“Well, if I can be honest, you caught my eye as soon as you walked in. I like your vibe. And you looked so nice standing over here, I couldn't leave without at least getting your name.”

He was such a gentleman, and quite the charmer. He had a way with words, for sure. My guard was still very much intact, but his company didn’t make me uncomfortable. In fact, the interaction was rather flattering. I didn't know the kid still had it.

“And now you know my name and where I’m from.”

He laughed, dropping his head. “You right. But you know they say good things come in threes.”

“Yeah, I’m familiar.”

“So, now I need your number to complete the trilogy. I mean, if that's cool with you.”

I can’t lie, I was tickled. He was that cute, corny funny I was very fond of. “Yeah,” I agreed, without even a second thought. Despite the obvious, I didn't wanna say no. “You like these?” I stood and we both looked down at the deep pink suede Nike Blazer I had been wearing.

“Yeah. They cold with the gum bottom.”

“Right?! I was thinking the same thing. I'ma get 'em.”

We made small talk until I'd tried on my last pair. Then the conversation carried on while he tried on a few more. The six or seven other people in the store probably thought we knew each other. He was surprisingly easy to talk to for a complete stranger. We eventually exchanged numbers and, ever since that day, we'd been down like four flats on a Cadillac.

He was the only friend I had.

#original fiction #original characters #black characters

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iknowff · 3 years

Text

It’s unfortunate when bad things happen to us. And it seems those bad things happen to good people more often than not. But when we find ourselves in dire situations, no matter how bleak and unrelenting they may be, we almost always hold the power to turn it all around. In fact, it’s our responsibility to ourselves to do just that; to go and get whatever we believe we deserve and live the best lives possible.

Jade Hamilton is on the journey of discovering that very power within herself. She’s approaching thirty and as she looks over her life, she sees nothing she’d once imagined. Her relationship is alarmingly toxic, but she’s grown numb to it. Her feelings of fear, unfulfillment, and inadequacy have become incessant. So much so that she perceives she’s stuck. But there is some light, courtesy of her best friend Omari. He often encourages her to reclaim control of her circumstances, not only with his supportive words, but by genuinely leading a life of compassion and integrity; allowing her to witness that good people do exist if she so chooses to take the chance. But will it be enough? Will Jade ever be able to see herself through Omari’s lens? What will it take for her to realize that she deserves better than what she has accepted from life?

#original fiction #original characters #black characters

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iknowff · 3 years

Text

I Know : Chapters

abstract

introduction

one

#original fiction #original characters #black characters

10 notes · View notes

iknowff · 3 years

Text

I Know : Chapters

abstract

introduction

one

#original fiction #original characters #black characters

10 notes · View notes

iknowff · 3 years

Text

I Know : Chapters

abstract

introduction

one

two

three

10 notes · View notes

iknowff · 3 years

Text

. one : truth hurts...

“You don't hear me talking to you?” he yelled, demanding an explanation.

My brain immediately scattered and I gasped for air as he shifted his hips, snatching himself out of me. “Baby... wh—what are you talking about?”

“Jade, you know what I'm talking about. You called me some other nigga’s name!”

I opened my mouth preparing to speak, yet, again, words were beyond me. Out of pure desperation, I closed my eyes, hoping that it was all just a terrible dream. But it wasn't. Sure enough, he was still right there in my face waiting for answers... that I did not have. I had called him Omari's name and I couldn't deny it.

But that doesn't mean I wasn't about to try.

“Cam, I didn't. You're hearing things.”

Without an ounce of hesitation, he began to shake his head. “Don't lie to me.”

“I'm not lying.”

He pushed himself up, hovering over me, and I watched his jaw tighten as he shut his eyes and took the deepest breath. He always did this whenever he was upset, but I don’t know why. It never actually helped calm him down. “What the fu—are you serious? I know what I heard. You think I’m stupid?”

“No,” I promptly corrected, leaving no room for assumptions. “But I didn't say someone else’s name, Cam. Why would I do that?”

He completely ignored me and left the bed, starting toward his clothes piled down by the foot. “...Yo, get up. I got something for your ass.”

At the sound of those words, I froze, paralyzed with fear. I already knew what he had for me, and I did not want it. I closed my eyes and filled my lungs, trying to figure a way out of this mess. I had seconds to save myself. I was in need of a literal miracle, therefore I could only take it to God. I prayed so hard, but nothing useful came to me, causing reality to set in. I had one choice, tell the truth or continue with the lie. “Cam…”

“Lying and fucking cheating? You know I don't play that shit,” he ranted, failing to even notice that I had just called his name.

“I'm not cheating on you, I swear,” I tried my best to reassure him. “I would never lie to you, baby.”

He turned to me and his glare cut into me like knives. “Bitch, I said get up.”

Tears pooled in my eyes as I slowly sat up and placed my feet to the floor. There was no way I was gonna change his mind. I was kidding myself ever thinking that I could.

He threw his t-shirt on and I reached down for my clothes as well, in hopes of curing at least a little bit of my vulnerability. “What you doing? I don't remember telling you to put shit back on.”

I swiftly opened my hand and let the shorts and cami fall back onto the carpet. “I'm sorry.”

“That means nothing,” he declared, walking over to me. All of those tears came crashing down; I was so scared. “You already know that shit don't faze me, Jay.”

“Cam, I love you! I'm not seeing anybody else! I don't even want anybody else! It's just you and me, baby. That's it,” I pled, but he ignored my defenses and raised his hand to me. Before I could even blink, it had landed on my tearstained face. I screamed as my neck violently twisted in the direction of his slap.

“Keep fucking lying!”

His volume had increased to new heights, and so did mine. “I'm not!”

Once I'd come to my senses, it was too late. I stared up into his eyes, so regretful for raising my voice, and he was looking back at me like I had lost my damn mind. It wasn’t my intent to be shouting at him, making shit worse for myself, but it was truly the pain talking. My skin was on fire. Within seconds, the same hand he had just smacked me with flew up around my neck. I instantly took hold of his wrist with both hands, shocked out of my mind. He had never gone this far before.

“Who the fuck you think you talking to? Huh?” He was standing right in my face. His tone was low, but still so intense. “Don’t you ever raise your voice at me. You hear me?” Terrified, I nodded to the best of my ability. “I can't fucking believe you! Everything I do for you, for us! I leave here for months at a time, working my ass off so your spoiled ass can have everything you want, and this is what I get in return?! You fucking around on me?” He looked so demented, watching me with narrowed eyes while I struggled to breathe and get him off of me. “You can't keep your fucking legs closed while I'm gone?” he questioned through clenched teeth, tightening his grip on my throat. My eyes doubled in size as tears continued to pour from them. I let him go and swatted at his hand crazily, my body begging for oxygen. I was beginning to panic. I never would've thought he’d have me in a situation afraid for my life. “What I tell you?! This shit is mine, you hear me? You are mine!”

“Cam... I can... can't bre...!” I honestly wasn’t sleeping with anyone else. I had only made a careless, stupid mistake and, damn, was I sorry. “Cam, please,” I mouthed to him. The edges of the room were starting to go dark.

“‘Please’ what? With your trifling ass!”

He slung my neck from his clutches and turned away in total disgust. I dropped to the floor, coughing and wheezing, trying to regulate my breathing. Foolishly thinking it was over, I put all of my attention on regaining some composure. I had to calm down. Losing the ability to breathe had always been a huge fear for me, and I didn't want to go into an anxiety attack. I had my hand on my chest, attempting to coax myself into taking deeper breaths, when I felt him grab the messy ponytail I had thrown to the top of my head.

“Get your hoe ass up!”

“I’m sorry,” I sobbed, just above a whisper. I knew I was wasting my time, but I still had to try. Maybe he would realize what he was doing and feel something for me past the rage. And cut me some damn slack. I felt like I was about to pass out.

But he refused to let up, yanking me by the hair. I shrieked in pain. “Shut your damn mouth! Don't let me have to tell you again.”

I went against his wishes and continued to try and plead with him. It was my only option. I couldn’t be quiet and I was always too fearful to fight back. I just wasn't ready for the type of trouble that hitting him would for sure bring. His temper had become outrageous and he was so much stronger than me. And, anyway, I somehow managed to piss him off just fine without having to touch him first. I started to feel the burden of his strength as my body began to slide across the floor. I threw my hand up to my head, kicking and screaming, hoping my actions would convince him to release me. I quickly accepted that it wouldn’t be so simple, so I just toughed it out until I was in the doorway. As soon as I saw my chance, I reached out and grabbed onto it with both hands, holding on for dear life.

“Cameron, no! Please don't do this to me! I'm so sorry! Just let me up so we can talk, please,” I shouted in one breath.

“Shut the fuck up! And let the door go!”

Again, I didn't follow his orders; which caused me instant regret. He snatched my hair so hard, that I knew some of it had been ripped from my scalp. “Aaaaah, Caaaaam,” I wailed, squeezing my eyes shut and trying to tug my locks away from him. “Stooooop!”

“Let it go,” he roared. Then he bent down and pried my fingers from the moulding. He lugged me out into the hallway and I started to reach for the walls, railing, tables, vases, anything I could attach myself to. But attempting to grip things with only one hand proved impossible. I was knocking shit over and it was falling everywhere, tears were flying from my eyes, the hurt in my voice was undeniable and he didn't give a single fuck. His only care was getting me to his desired destination.

I was somewhat relieved when I saw that he wasn't going for the stairs, but it was no time to celebrate. The carpet was burning the hell out of my hips. Time seemed to lag behind, as those were the longest seconds of my life, being violated by something that was usually so soft and gentle to me. Cam, on the other hand, I was used to.

After what had felt like forever, he finally brought the torture to an end in the upstairs media room about thirty-five feet away from where we’d started. And, without a pause, he picked me up and tossed my naked body onto the couch.

“Don't move.”

I was so winded and trembling horribly, but I decided to do as told and remained as still as possible. He started to walk up on me and I just closed my eyes, sure I wasn't doing well enough for him. Terrified of what might've been coming next, I pulled my knees up to my chest and put my face down.

“I'm not cheating on you, baby, I promise. I wouldn't do that to us.” I peeked up at him and hated how familiar this was. I couldn’t even lie to myself anymore and say I didn’t recognize the person standing before me, but he was still so different from the guy I had met and fallen for all those years ago. This version of him just didn't give a fuck. I could easily see that he had absolutely no remorse for what he was doing to me; or all he had done before today for that matter. But, embarrassingly enough, that didn't change the fact that some variation of him still had my heart. “You gotta believe me, Cam. I love you.”

Something I said must’ve been the last straw, because he balled his fist and punched me in the face. Hard! The force even knocked me over. I screamed out, grabbing a hold of my jaw. His blow had made my teeth puncture the inside of my mouth.

“Do you not understand ‘shut the fuck up’?! It means close your damn mouth,” he yelled, answering himself. “Stop fucking talking! Just shut the fuck up!”

There was no more fight left in me. I was in agony. The inside of my cheek stung and I could taste the blood as I checked for broken teeth, my neck was sore from battling against his hand, I could feel about three separate areas where I was sure I had no skin, my head hurt where my hair had been so forcefully pulled, my hands were beat up by the things that had denied my grasp, my anxiety was in overdrive, and one side of my face throbbed as it tried to recover from a slap and a punch. I was done trying to convince him of anything. He was free to think whatever he wanted.

“And you tell that nigga I'm coming for his ass next, ‘cause I'ma find out who the fuck he is! I swear, you got me so fucked up right now,” he huffed, pacing the floor and massaging his temples. “I don't want your dirty ass in my bed either, so get comfortable. And don't move.” His voice was calm, but, the way he eyed me, I knew not to get up. “When I get back in here, you better be in this same spot. Think I'm fucking playing.”

After his threatening lecture, he turned away and started to leave the room.

“Cam,” I reluctantly called, in a whisper. Blood was filling my mouth and I needed to spit badly. I needed my clothes, too.

“You ain't had enough,” he asked, coming toward me at a pace that caused my already high level of distress to rise. I put my hands out, in hopes that he wouldn't start up again. I knew I wouldn't be able to take much more.

“Yes, yes! I just want some clothes and I need to go spit,” I exclaimed in one hurried breath. Thank God, he stopped and kept his hands to himself.

“I want you naked. And swallow that shit.”

I frowned at his response. “But I can't swallow all this,” I gently opposed, tilting my head back to try and prevent it from spilling out as I spoke.

“Swallow it... or you'll be picking up your fucking teeth.”

Pure shock took over my expression. I couldn't fathom that this was actually happening to me. At his hand. The man I loved, who I thought loved me. I didn't even know what to do with myself anymore. I just felt drained. Dealing with him had become exhausting for me, in every sense of the word. And things weren't getting any better. Instead, he was getting worse.

New tears formed in my eyes as I fought to rid my mouth of the most foul tasting shit I had ever experienced. They quickly ran down to my chin where they dripped steadily onto my lap. Once I had succeeded, I looked up at him, longing for something--anything--and his face gave me nothing. At that point, all hope was lost. I turned my back to him, curling up and comforting myself, because I knew his ass wouldn't. And he just walked away.

As if it wasn't me who had stood by his side, rooting for him, when his ass had nothing; me who overlooked all of the bullshit he dished almost daily; me who had been nothing but good to him, done nothing but loved and trusted him; me who had gotten the abortion because he said he wasn't ready to be a father; and me who cooked for him, cleaned for him, did any and everything for him. Taking better care of him than I was myself. With no ring on my finger. That shit hurt more than any blow to the body could ever. That was a fucking blow to my heart!

All I could do was lie there in the dark, giving in to the desolation, weeping silently and praying things would turn around the way I always did. I ended up crying myself to sleep.

#original fiction #original characters #black characters

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