Enough... (Completed)

Back Story II (Beyoncé)

"Kelly I'm fine," I said swatting at her hand. Kelly and I sat in my room as I had a blood-stained shirt from all of the blood from my nose, my eye was swollen and my lip was busted.

"Beyoncé you are not okay, THIS is not okay!"

At this point I don't care, I'm not dumb enough to stay in a relationship with him but when you're deeply in love with someone it's dangerous.

"I don't know Kelly, he said he'd never do it again."

"That's what he said before, and now look. Bey you have to leave him, you deserve way better than him."

I'm 17 now and a Junior in high school, Lyndall and I have been together for about 4 years now and ever since that night where he forced me to have sex he has been very... lenient with my choice of sexual activity.

But just now, he turned into someone else. Just now, he was in some sort of trans.

I sighed, "I know, but I love him Kelly."

"Does he love you?"

There it is, the million dollar question. Does he love me? Did he ever love me?

I sniffed but I didn't answer.

"God Beyoncé, leave this boy alone! You could've fucking died!"

She sounded just like my father.

"I'm sorry Kelly," I said for no reason specifically. Other than the fact that it's 4am and she's here with me dealing with my bullshit. She could just ignore it and move on with her life, this isn't her problem. Yet here she is, caring about me and taking care of me in my state of mind.

"It's okay Bey, I gotchu', just leave him alone please. He is not worth your life. I can't live without you best friend," she said hugging me.

"And you won't ever live without me."

I hugged her back and we stayed just like that. Me crying on her shoulder and wincing at the physical and emotional pain I was experiencing.

*******

When I woke up I was in pain, like I had a hangover, but it had just been a headache from crying all night.

I turned to the clock, 3:17pm. Kelly was gone and it was just me.

"Bey, momma said if you don't get-," Solange said bursting into my room without knocking. I looked at her and she had finally made complete eye contact with me, viewing how ugly and disturbing my face was because of Lyndall. Solange was 13 now and still as smart and poise as ever. However, she wasn't aware of Lyndall's wrong-doings, but she still never trusted him.

There was a long silence, I can tell there were so many questions she wanted to ask but had already answered them in her head. She approached my bed to get a better view of my face and I just stared up at her—the best I could at least—and she stood there, hovering over my face. She pushed my hair behind my ear and I winced a little bit. Her fists clenched and tears began rolling down her face, Solange had always been this way, especially with family.... with me.

"When?" she asked.

"Last night," I said as the tears starting rolling down my cheek.

"This isn't fair," she stated.

"I'm going to break up with him," I told her and she cocked her head to the side.

"Bey he's in love with you as much as you are with him. He will not leave you alone, ever."

The last sentence replayed in my head.

"I know, but I still have to try and get away from him."

We hugged, I didn't have anymore energy or tears left to cry.

******

I walked down the stairs with a hoodie on my head as I joined my mom in the kitchen, it was a rainy day in July so there was some type of cool air creeping in through the cracked windows, cooler than what we're used to.

"Look who finally got out of the bed," my mom said.

I chuckled, trying to convince her that I was okay and I was just going through some teen-drama, which was normal. I didn't want her to know how bad it really was.

"I'm home!" I heard, of course it was my father. The man who was without a doubt going to say 'I told you so', which is honestly the last thing I needed to hear.

"Hey babe," he came and kissed my mom's cheek. I always admired my parents' relationship and how they've kept a household together and a family in order. How they both have made countless sacrifices for anyone in the family, it didn't matter which side it was.

"Beyoncé, why do you have that hood on your head?"

"It's cold," I said sounding standoffish and somewhat out of place.

My mom came over to me and attempted to pull my hood off my head and I stepped back, at that point they knew something was wrong.

"Beyoncé, I will not fight you," my mom stated sternly. I gave in and she pulled the hood off my head and gasped. My father gulped and clenched his jaw. The sad thing is, nobody had to ask who did this. It could've been a random girl at school, but everybody knew me for my vocal ability, how friendly and polite I was, and my relationship with Lyndall. They had already known it was Lyndall.

I lowered my head and looked at my fingers. My mother lifted my chin up and viewed my face from a closer and different perspective. My father just looked at me, shook his head, and walked out of the kitchen.

The boy I quit the group for was now beating on me and there was literally nothing I could say for myself. My dad was right, he has always been right.

"I'm going to press charges," my mom said and walked out of the kitchen. Leaving me by my lonesome.