Why couldn't Phillip do right? Everyone knew that Billy had lied and was close to a nervous breakdown. Billy had even threatened to take his life and the life of his boss and co-workers. Everyone else had forgiven me and come around. Everyone, except Phillip.
After things blew over, I went to Phillip for a long talk. After speaking with him, I truly believed that things would be better. I wanted things to go back to the way they once were. Phillip told me that things would get better. And that he, too, wanted things to be the way they once were. He said that he would start back coming to my office like he used to. He said that he was my friend and would help me find another job. He said . . . . He said . . . .
Why did Phillip have to be such a habitual liar? Why did he continually string me along baiting me with lies and unkept promises?
I was having an emotional breakdown and Phillip knew it.
I pulled into the driveway of my new home with all of this raging through my mind. I hated coming home just as much as I hated going to work each day. I should be happy. My mother and daughter should be happy. I was miserable, and I was making their lives a living hell.
My mother and I had just purchased a beautiful water front home, on a two acre lot in an exclusive upper middle class neighborhood. It was a ranch style house with four oversized bedrooms and three full baths. This was the very first home that I had ever bought. I should have been happy and proud of this accomplishment but I was deeply troubled and miserable. My home life was falling apart. I was angry at the world and hated myself. I vented my rage at anyone and anything that crossed my path.
Unlocking the side door to go into the house and directly to my bedroom, not speaking to Alarah or my mother. I threw my briefcase down on my rich mahogany bed and began undressing. I opened the door of my closet, walked in and retrieved a wooden hanger.
"Mommy. Mommy! I have wonderful news."
Alarah burst into the room. She was excited. Her eyes and face beamed, exploding with something to tell me. I looked at my daughter who seemed to have not a care in the world. She was still dressed in her school uniform and had not changed into her play clothes.
I yelled at her, "Alarah, you know better. Go and take off that school uniform, right now."
"But Mommy, I have some good news to tell you. Please . . . Mommy. What's wrong? Did you have another bad day at work?"
"Alarah, get out of my room. GET OUT! DO YOU HEAR ME! GET OUT!"
"But Mom . . . eee."
Alarah began to cry. Choking on her tears, she sobbed uncontrollable. I could not stand it. I grabbed her tiny frame and shoved her towards the door and out of my room and locked the door behind her. I walked over to the bed and picked up the telephone and called Jerron.
I needed to talk to someone. I needed someone to tell me that things would be all right. That I was not losing my damn mind.
Thank God, Jerron was there.
"Jerron. Jerron, I need you."
I could hear Alarah sobbing outside my door. "Mommy . . . Mommy . . . Mommy . . . I'm sorry . . . I'm sorry . . . let me in."
I wanted to drown her out. My hand tighten its grip on the receiver. I hated when she sobbed and cried like that. I hated myself even worse for making her cry. I ignored Alarah's pleas and continued my conversation with Jerron.
"Jerron, when will you be in Andrew? I need you, Jerron."
"Torah, I won't be able to come until the end of the month. I've used most of my vacation time. What happened on your job to get you so worked up?"
