Aggressive Me, Passive You

Chapter Five

EDITED

WARNING: Before you read, this chapter contains a sensitive/abusive subject.

Chapter Five - Getting In Arguments With My Mama

Walking home after school everyday was something I came accustom to. My neighborhood was fifteen minutes away by foot, so it didn't bother me that I had to walk. Although, it would be nice to have a car like every other teenager my age. For crying out loud, I was seventeen and I needed a car. In all honesty, I needed a job too. Walking home had its perks; I got to clear my head from time to time.

I unlocked the front door to our dainty, two bedroom house and wasn't surprised when I saw my mama's boyfriend sitting on the couch like he owned the place. He was wearing a white beater that hugged his muscular upper body and he didn't even have the decency to put on pants—he was in his boxers. I wasn't going to lie, he frightened me. He always had this deadly look in his dark eyes. I didn't have the slightest clue what he was thinking. Something about him screamed evil. He just seemed like a very dark spirit and I didn't know why.

He didn't say anything as I passed him; he kept his eyes glued to the TV and I was okay with that. I walked into the kitchen and down the hallway attached to it to get to my room. I threw my bag on the floor beside my bed and closed my door, locking it. I was about to change and I didn't trust Deonte (my mama's boyfriend). I got this weird vibe around him. I changed into some more comfortable clothing and went back into the kitchen.

"Of course we don't have anything to eat." I sighed as I looked at the nearly empty refrigerator.

We had cereal, no milk. Bread, no lunch meat. Hot dogs, no ketchup or mustard. Microwaveable waffles, no syrup. The list was endless.

"Mama, you cookin' somethin' before you go to work?" I yelled.

"Girl, stop yellin' in my house like you pay the bills!" She appeared in the kitchen with her scrubs on. She was a nurse. "You betta fix you a sandwich."

"I would if we had freakin' lunch meat." I rolled my eyes.

"You betta stop gettin' smart with me. I'm not one of yo lil friends on the street. You gone respect me in my house! I'm the adult, I pay the bills!" She said, pointing her finger at me accusingly.

"I wasn't getting smart. All I said was that we ain't have lunch meat." I crossed my arms over my chest.

"It's not what you said, it's how you said it!"

"Okay."

"You just think you so grown."

"Mama, I said okay. Dang."

"You gone learn how to respect me." She yelled, pointing her thumb towards her.

"That's right, baby!" Deonte shouted from the living room.

Shut the hell up, didn't nobody ask your broke ass. Dirty ass man. You need to find a job.

I can't stand this house.

"Now wash them dishes!"

"I ain't even eat nothing." I mumbled under my breath and turned around.

"You mumbling under your breath!? Keep talking, I'ma give you something to talk about. Smart ass mouth, you gone have me late for work." She said and I flinched at her harsh tone as I ran the dish water.

I didn't have to turn around, but I knew she was no longer in the kitchen. She probably was going to finish getting ready for work. She needed to hurry up and leave because sometimes I couldn't stand being under the same roof as her. She got on my nerves so much. Mothers were supposed to be loving and deep down I knew she loved me, but she was just so grumpy and had a hard way of showing it. After all, she still cared for me and allowed me to live under her roof, so I couldn't stay mad at her for too long.

I washed the dishes silently and I heard her leave while I was washing them. I heard footsteps on the kitchen floor. From the heaviness, I knew it was a man, I knew it was Deonte. He also was the only one left in the house besides myself. He stood right behind me and I was scared out of my mind. I relaxed a little when he put some dishes into the sink, but I was angry that he waited until I was almost finished.

"Don't talk to your mama like that. That's un-lady like." He leaned against the counter, staring at me.

"Stop staring at me." I whispered, my eyes were locked on the bubbly water and nothing else.

"I'm the adult, don't talk to me that way." He sternly said.

"You're not my dad. You can't tell me what to do!" I talked back. My mouth was going to get me in serious trouble. He would most definitely tell my mama. I was a grown woman at school, but at home I was just a cowardly, little girl. It was all in the little façade I put up. Little did people know that my home life was terrible.

"Lil girl," he raised his voice and I felt his clammy hand on my forearm. He squeezed it tight to the point where it burned and I hissed at the pain. "Do not talk to me like that. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes." I whispered, feeling my eyes water.

"Yes, what?" He squeezed my arm a little tighter and I let out a whimper.

"Yes, sir." A tear strolled down my cheek. "Please, let me go. You're hurting my arm."

"That's my good lil girl." He whispered in my ear, stroking my weave.

My body froze as he wrapped his arms around me from behind and hugged me closely to his chest.

I felt so violated; I wanted to kick and scream, but it was pointless. If I tried anything, I was sure he would do something way worse than what he was doing now. I didn't want to take my chances, so I just let him hug me from behind, inwardly praying that nothing bad would happen to me.

Lord please get me through the night.

Lord please.

Just please.

I had long forgotten about the dish water, even though my hands were still placed inside of it. I just wanted to go into my room and lock the door, so I would be safe away from him.

His hand gripped my left hip and the other one trailed to the waistband of my panties. His rough hand slid underneath my sweatpants and he palmed me through my underwear. The tears started rolling down my face heavier than they were before.

"Keep talking back and you'll get something worse, understand?" He bit my earlobe and I didn't answer him.

He dug his fingertips into my hip bone and I quickly nodded my head. "I understand. Sir. I understand, sir."

"You better." He let go of me and he walked out of the kitchen.

I didn't even finish washing the dishes; I didn't care how mad my mama would get. I ran to my room so fast that lightening had nothing on me. I quietly closed my door—not wanting Deonte to come back to bother me—and locked it. I stripped myself of my clothes, every article reminding me of what had happened a few minutes ago. I changed into something completely different, climbing into my old twin bed. That was when I lost it. I silently weeped, crying harder and harder every time I thought about where he just touched me.

That wouldn't be the first and last time I cried myself to sleep.

•••

This chapter got me feeling sad. I feel so bad bc I have Aniya going through this pain!