Everything that glitters, ain't gold.

6. Am I stupid?

Friday January 20th, 1990

Michel'le,

"Baby where you bouta go?" Dre asked.

"To the hair salon. My appointment is today." I responded brushing my hair.

He sucked his teeth. "It ain't shit wrong wit cho hair Chel'le."

"Please this shit looks a mess and I'm getting it done." I rolled my eyes.

"Who the fuck is you rolling yo eyes at?!" He shouted.

"Not at y----." I started.

"WHO THEN?!" He yelled cutting me off. "Cause it's only me and you sitting in this fuckin room so who the fuck was you rolling yo eyes at?!"

"Obviously you if its only us in this room muthafucka!" I snapped.

"I'm bouta beat cho ass!" He said getting out of bed.

"No I'm sorry Dre!" I said as tears began to fill my eyes.

"No cause you think I'm fuckin playing wit chu! I'm not fuckin playing wit chu Chel'le!" After he got out of bed he walked up to me and punched me in the face.

He kept on punching me and my blood was all over his fists now. "Dre please stop!!" I cried.

"No cause you think it's okay to fuck with me! I fuckin told you to stop fuckin with me! Didn't I tell you that shit?!" He shouted as he continuously punched me in the face.

I don't understand what I did to deserve this?

Why is the man that I love doing this to me?

Am I? Am I stupid?

"You dumb bitch!" He punched me a couple more times, I was on the floor barely able to move at all. "Now take yo ass downstairs and make me something to eat bitch!"

"D-Dre I c-can't m-move!" I stuttered out in tears.

"Chel'le I swear to god if you don't get the fuck up imma drag yo ass down the stairs my fuckin self! Get the fuck up, now!" He demanded.

"I can't fuckin move you asshole!!" I shouted at him.

"Okay I got something for yo ass then!" He pulled out a gun and pointed it at me.

"Now you got 10 fuckin seconds to get cho ass up and make me something to eat or you gon get a muthafuckin bullet in yo forehead!" He threatened. "Get up before I blow yo fuckin head off Chel'le!"

"Dre I can't get up!" I sobbed.

He shot one in the air causing me to scream and cover my face. "GET THE FUCK UP, NOW CHEL'LE!" He yelled.

"DRE I CAN'T FUCKIN MOVE!" I yelled back.

He put the gun to my head. "You want me to shoot cho ass? Huh? You wanna fuckin die today bitch?!"

"No Dre I don't wanna die!"

"Then get the fuck up! HURRY UP!" He shouted as he shot two more in the air.

I really didn't have any strength to stand up so I just crawled out of the room, limped all the way downstairs and got started on his breakfast.

Saturday January 21st, 1990

Quinn,