A Story To Tell | Book 2

.7.

:::VANESSA:::

I could hear my doorbell constantly ringing I opened my eyes from a very light sleep. All this pain I was going through, I was surprised I'd actually dozed off long enough.

No one was supposed to be coming over. And from what I can remember, I told Chris to contact me through Facebook. I cut the light on in my room to see that it was about twenty minutes til one in the morning. Looking over at my Mac book, I just pressed on a random key to see my Facebook messages still open and that I had a response from Chris saying that he was going to be over after he left work.

That's when it felt as if my world was tumbling down. It was probably him at the door. The thought had deliberately sent me into panic mode, causing for me to rush to my bathroom to take a look into the mirror at my face. My God, it looked so horrible.

I screamed in the inside as my doorbell rang again. If I played sleep, he probably wouldn't realize that I was wide awake. Accept for the fact that I was stupid enough to cut on my bedroom light and my bedroom light is right next to the front door. That just sent my plan quickly down a road to disaster when Chris started to knock.

Closing my eyes tight, the pain started shooting through my face. My black eye on my right wanted to be noticed and it was getting its debut as I hissed and touched it a little. It was too late to try and put on some makeup so I knew that for what it was worth, I was busted.

Giving up on any hope that I may have had for a split second, I cut the bathroom late off and slowly walk to the door. The door that seemed so far away seemed to be the closest thing to me in the room.

As I touched the doorknob, I stood there for a moment and built up the courage to open the unlock the lock and twist the knob. I pulled the door open and there was Chris, still dressed semi-formal and looking too exhausted. I backed up into the dark room so that he couldn't see my face good enough to see the bruises that Raymond had left.

"What were you doing?" He asked, suspiciously.

"Nothing. I had to freshen up for you." I make up an excuse.

"You feeling any better?" He asked me as he wrapped his arms around me to give me a hug.

His hug was too tight around me, causing for me to hiss at the pain. He jumped a bit and let me go.

"What's wrong?" He asked me.

"Oh, nothing, baby. I'm just kind of sore. I tried to workout a bit and I'm suffering from it. That's all." I lie again. Lord, forgive me.

"It's all dark in here, cut some of these lights on." Chris said as he walked over to the kitchen.

"Chris, no!" I shout as I rush over to him, but by then, it was too late.

The kitchen light was bright and Chris was able to see me. He scrunched up his face at the bruises that rested upon mine and he walked closer over to me, taking my hand and pulling me into the light to get a better look at me. And when he did, he let my hand go and took sighed. I could see that he was clenching his jaws tight and it scared me a little bit at what his response would be.

"Who did this to you?" He asked, his voice deep and full of anger.

"Baby, I was just—I was just..." I try to think up another lie, but I just couldn't think of one good enough to tell. I knew that I shouldn't have been trying to lie to him at all. But I'm afraid that he will try to find Raymond and do something that would get him into a lot of trouble.

"Tell me what happened to you." He refused to soften up his features as he stared at my face. "That nigga Raymond?" He came out with the words before I could tell him. "Why you lying for him?"