Behind The Shadows (Complete)

Episode 3

SATIVA

My name is Sativa Mckenzie. I was 13 when the only parent I knew abandoned me in a small apartment above a Bodega owned by a sweet, Puerto Rican couple in Brooklyn, New York. Without question, Miss Tati took me under her wing. 

She brought me to church with her every Sunday and saw that I got up in time for school on weekday mornings. When I cried for my mother she held me in her bosom and promised me that it was all for the best. She said that my mother's crack habit and mental health were detrimental to my well-being and that her leaving was doing me a big favor. 

The absence of my mother left me in a state of deep depression and loneliness. I was just a 13-year-old girl when she abandoned me in a small apartment above a corner store owned by a kind Puerto Rican couple in Brooklyn, New York. The only semblance of family I had was Miss Tati, a woman who took me under her wing without hesitation.

Miss Tati was a pillar of strength in my life. Every Sunday, she would take me to church, making sure I started my weekdays with punctuality and attendance at school. Whenever I'd sob for my mother's presence, Miss Tati would hold me close, reassuring me that the situation was for the best. She explained that my mother's struggles with addiction and mental health were harmful to my well-being, and her departure was actually a blessing in disguise.

Before my mother's departure, I had already been struggling with a sense of sadness and isolation. However, her absence amplified these feelings, leaving me in a pit of despair. Miss Tati became my lifeline, my surrogate family, helping me find the strength to keep moving forward despite the overwhelming darkness that threatened to consume me.

Miss Tati's guidance was deeply rooted in faith. She often reminded me to "walk by faith, not by sight." She believed that God was my true father, and for all my needs, I should look to Him. Her words provided solace in times of confusion and doubt. Through her teachings, I found a way to cope with the emptiness left by my mother's departure.

Tragically, Miss Tati's time in my life was short-lived. She passed away shortly after I graduated from eighth grade, leaving me at the age of 15 to face the world alone once again. Her departure was a blow that I struggled to recover from, as the one person who had shown me unwavering love and guidance was no longer there to support me.

I found refuge in a tiny room within a government-funded rooming house. Days became nights, and nights became days as tears became my only companions. I cried myself to sleep during daylight hours, while the night found me wandering the streets of downtown Brooklyn. It was during one of these aimless strolls that destiny led me to a past figure that would bring light into the darkness – a boy named Mekhi.

Our paths crossed on the bustling streets of downtown Brooklyn, where I saw him for the first time since our church days. We clicked immediately as if some unexplainable force had drawn us together. Mekhi was a member of the same church Miss Tati had taken me to. He was now 19, while I was still navigating my way through the complexities of being a motherless child.

In his presence, for the first time since my mother's abandonment and Miss Tati's passing, I didn't feel the weight of loneliness suffocating me. It was as if he had the power to fill the deep void in my heart that I hadn't even realized existed.

Our bond deepened as we spent more time together. Mekhi affectionately had always referred to me as "Church Girl," acknowledging the part of me that Miss Tati had nurtured.But his impact on my life extended far beyond a nickname. 

Mekhi saw me for who I truly was, beyond my past struggles and pain. He listened to my thoughts and fears, seeking to understand the essence of my being. For the first time, I felt truly heard and seen. His presence was a guiding light, illuminating the path towards self-discovery and self-acceptance. He was a constant source of inspiration, encouraging me to chase after my dreams with unwavering determination. Through his words and actions, he instilled in me the belief that I was worthy of happiness and success. With Mekhi by my side, I found a sense of security and belonging that had eluded me for so long. He became my safe haven, my confidant, my comfort zone. Determined to provide me with a safe space outside the confines of my cramped room, Mekhi extended an invitation that would forever change the contours of my life. 

Every Tuesday, his apartment became a haven of fun, warmth and  laughter for me. 

He unveiled the secrets of Sloppy Joe's and his famous assorted noodle, spaghetti dish. Our laughter and playfulness reverberated through those walls as we revelled in the simple pleasures of movies, shared meals, competitive rounds of Monopoly, and exuberant pillow fights. And as the evening waned, we'd settle in for the night, our roles perfectly defined - me in his oversized shirt, him in the pants, and an invisible boundary that held a world of respect.

But one night the harmony of our companionship took an unforeseen turn. Amidst a celebration of a new year, Mariah Carey's, 'You'll always be my baby' came over the radio. He liked to hear me sing, so I lowered the volume so he could hear me singing along. Mekhi rose from the sofa, his movements deliberate and full of intent. Gently, he pulled me into his embrace, his touch igniting a cascade of sensations within me. The contours of his lips met mine in a tender kiss, but this time, it held an undercurrent of lustful yearning, a longing that had remained unspoken for so long.

His kiss deepened, and his tongue found its way into my virgin mouth, sparking a fluttering dance of butterflies on the floor of my stomach. The moment was charged with a raw, unfiltered intensity— a ball of emotions that resonated deep within my soul.

With a mixture of desire and tenderness, he lifted me from my feet, laying me gently on the sofa. The world around us blurred. His touch traced a line down my neck, each caress sending shivers down my spine. Fingers warm against my skin, he ventured beneath the fabric of my t-shirt, his touch igniting a feeling I had never know existed until that moment.

And then, like the shattering of a spell, Mekhi snapped out of his seductive daze. In a heartbeat, he leaped off of me, his movements abrupt and filled with urgency. Without a word, he rushed to his feet, a look of frustration was evident in his features. He grabbed his jacket from the coat closet. 

"Lock the door and go to bed," he demanded. "Don't wait up."

The door slammed shut behind him, leaving me alone with the fading echoes of the song that had orchestrated this unexpected and awkward situation.