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Category:
Literary Fiction
Publisher: Royal Ink Publications
Type: Fiction
Pages: 83
Copyright: December 5, 2012
Price: $1.99 (eBook)
A story of two young lady's journey down a dark path that they call love.
Every 9 seconds in the US a woman is assaulted or beaten. Every day in the US, more than three women are murdered by their husbands or boyfriends.
Best friends, Kim and Trina get a big reality check when the men they love have more love of money, the streets, sex, and revenge. Total denial sneaks into the forefront and causes them to be blinded. Physical & mental abuse, death and the penitentiary delivers them a hand that’s too hard to play.
Will the truth of their reality smack them in their faces and will they realize what’s going on before it’s too late? Blinded Love reveals the true circumstances of bad choices for a lot of individuals, especially those who believe that certain things can never happen to them.
Sometimes life can take a dark turn and the one you love can be your worst enemy. Prepare to receive a bird’s eye view of love and life’s hardest lessons.
Excerpt
“Kim, get your sorry ass up now!” yelled, Tony.
Laying in our bed in a deep sleep, I didn’t respond.
“Bitch, you’re not sleeping that muthafucking good.”
Lifting his right foot up, he kicked me out of the bed.
I hit the floor hard as hell, and immediately woke up. “What the fuck?” I responded, disorientated.
“I know you heard me calling your fucking name?”
Still half asleep, I glanced up in Tony’s direction. His muscular 5 foot 9 inch frame hovered over me menacingly. Observing the irritation shrieking through his fire red skin, I spoke calmly, “Baby, what’s wrong?”
“I’ve been trying to wake your ass up for the last fucking ten minutes,” he responded, rubbing on his shiny baldhead.
“I’m sorry baby, I didn’t hear you.”
“I don’t know how in the hell you didn’t. I’ve been yelling at the top of my fucking lungs for the longest. Bitch, you were just ignoring me.”
“No I wasn’t, I swear…”
Before I could finish trying to explain myself, Tony yanked off my gold diamond necklace and tossed it across the room. In a blinding rage he assaulted my 5 foot 3 inch petite body; pulling my hair, punching me in the face, and kicking me in my ribcage.
I screamed and tried to defend myself, but I was no match for his strength and speed.
“Don’t ever fucking ignore me bitch!” he yelled out repeatedly with each blow he threw.
I took a couple of Ambien sleeping pills before going to bed. I wasn’t trying to ignore him at all—just trying to soothe my stressful and restless nights. Tony didn’t allow me to fully explain this; he just snapped out and beat on me until he got tired.
A crying bloody mess, I ran to the bathroom adjacent to our bedroom. A penny-sized gash lay above my left cheek and forehead, my lip and nose are busted, my right eye is starting to swell and bruise up also. Using cold water, I wet a towel and cautiously wiped my face. I didn’t have the strength to comb my long brown hair, so I put on a headscarf.
“Bitch, hurry up in that damn bathroom, I’m hungry,” Tony stated, sitting on the edge of our bed waiting on me to come out.
“Ok,” I nervously responded, rushing out of the bathroom.
“Go fix me some damn breakfast and don’t burn it,” he demanded.
Terrified, shaken and trying to hold my tears in, I replied stuttering, “Ok, what… what do you want… to eat?”
“You know what the fuck I like. Do I need to beat your ass again to help you remember?”
“No,” I said softly.
Silently, I spun around on my heels and allowed my tears to freely flow out. As I was rushing down to the kitchen, Tony jumped up and followed right behind me.
“I need an ice pack, you made me hurt my damn hand,” he said irritated, as if it was my fault.
I went straight to the freezer and retrieved an ice pack and Tony snatched it from me, before I could even close the freezer door back.
“After you’re done with my breakfast, go back upstairs and clean up that nasty ass bedroom.”
“Ok,” I replied, opening up the refrigerator and gathering what I needed out to begin cooking.
Tony exited out of the kitchen and went into the living room. Flopping down on the couch he pulled out a bag of weed, a Black White Owl cigar, and rolled up a healthy blunt. Afterwards he picked up the stereo remote, blasting Too Short’s song Freaky Tales, and started smoking.
Fifteen minutes later in horrible pain and agony, I slowly came walking into the living room to bring Tony his breakfast. I cooked him grits with cheese, sausage links, scrambled eggs with cheese and toast. Placing his plate down in front of him, I went back into the kitchen to get him a glass of orange juice and a napkin. Tony snatched the plate and started eating without a word of thank you.
Like the good submissive servant, whom I had become, I didn’t utter one word either. Instead I went back upstairs to our bedroom and started cleaning. The atrocious site of all the blood on the carpet by our bed didn’t faze me at all. Grabbing the 409 carpet cleaning spray, a scrub brush, a bucket of hot water and a rag, I got down on my hands and knees and began scrubbing hard to get the blood up.
Tony walked in fifteen minutes later. Grabbing his cell phone and car keys he walked right back out, still not speaking a single syllable to me.
Silently I started praying that he would be leaving soon. Minutes later my wish came true when I heard the garage door lift up, the music from his car blasting, followed by the sound of his tires screeching off to where ever he was going.
Without delay I started searching for my precious necklace that Tony had ripped off. I found it and the charm lying on the floor in front of my dresser. Picking it up, I clutched the broken necklace in my right hand and held it against my heart. Lying across the bed I cried myself to sleep.
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