life, Stories, Writers

Do We?

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How often do we look at each other?

How often do we truly see what we are worth?

A picture is worth a thousand words.

What is a real live image worth?

Who gives us the power to judge each other?

If you commit a crime, does it make you a criminal?

If you use your body, does it make you a whore?

Who gives the power to criticize?

Do we truly see the person in front of us?

Do we truly care?

If she cries, does that make her weak?

If he abuses, does that make him tough?

What gives us the power to think that we are better than the next?

We are all flesh and blood. We all come from the same humanity.

So ask yourself…..who gives us the right???

life

Live life to the Fullest

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Picture taken in Savannah on my cellphone

Life is short has really brought it’s meaning to light this year.

We never know what a person is going through, what their struggles are or the demons they face. Hell, we all have them, right?

Who are we living for? What are living for?

Of course, the answer will come in the form of our loved ones. No, none of this pertains to dark topics like suicide or worthlessness. It’s more of a notion of if we are also living life for ourselves.

I always feel like we obligate our time to please others, to work, pay bills, etc. Yet, we don’t necessarily find time for ourselves to enjoy what life offers.

Yeah, sometimes we don’t know what that is.

I recently discovered how to breathe without stress clenching at my lungs. If I want to sit and watch tv all day or hit up a video game just to get peace of mind or read a book while dishes pile up….I do it. What doesn’t get done that day will get done the next.

Yeah, it seems like a small pleasure. A silly one for an adult to indulge in, but what is the point of enjoying life if you can’t take a day for yourself.

We all have a job/career in one form or another. We all have responsibilities and we all have to adult. My point is life is to short to fall into the negative, to be unappreciated, to be unhappy, to let goals slip from your finger tips.

Always find time for yourself and never let someone bring you down. Be kind and understanding because again we never know what someone is going through.

life

Perfection Is Flawed

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I find myself lacking in areas of life substantial to what makes us whole. Areas pertaining to social and personal needs.

I recently discovered my commitment to friendships is unbalanced. My commitment as a wife is diminishing and my ability to be the parent my children need is fading to a questionable doubt.

As we age, I feel we lose apart of ourselves. We fade into the background as we become everything to others, but nothing to ourselves.

I have seen a lot of people speaking of self-care this year, but then I question if it is evolved around perfection. Perfection is a mask we wear to blend in, to hide our flaws from the eyes we wish/need acceptance from.

Flaws are a form of beauty. Well, that is what I tell myself. What if flaws are basically failures we want to dress up in a pretty outfit?

I have experienced many failures in the form of self-doubt, in a form to justify why at my age I should be on the same boat as everyone else.

I’m a parent and it’s a gift many pray to experience. I never take it for granted, but I am flawed to a dark degree. We all are.

I also experience a form of depression, one that creates a dark cloud blinding my ability to see the purpose I have in life. What am I here for? Would anyone cry if I died? Am I burden, emotionally and financially?

The point is everything is flawed and sometimes we need to dig ourselves from the darkness of our minds to find a balance of happiness.

We don’t need approval from others to be able to feel good about the road we have chosen to travel. We just need a friend, someone who understands, someone as flawed as we are.

If we don’t have someone, we can uplift ourselves.

life, Writers

Tiptoeing The Line

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As I sit on my couch watching Spider-Man: Homecoming and the demands of raindrops pelt the siding of my home, I wonder how far is too far when it comes to pushing the limits in our writing.

Recently, my motivation jumpstarted a new story I would say I am writing for me. Then again, aren’t most stories we write for ourselves but we just share it for the world to enjoy as well?

There was a brief thought of concern how others would portray this work of art conjured from the depths of my mind. Would I offend someone? Put my foot in my mouth by representing a group wrong?

However, I have found when you drop the bullshit of worrying about the image, the words flow down the stream of enjoyment. Writing what I feel and how I wish for it to be structured takes a ton of stress off my back.

Now, one issue—do I write the bad, ugly, and cringing scenes without apology?

We have a duty as writers to explore all avenues even when it pushes us out of our comfort zone. Should we be blamed if one does not take note of the warning we place in the beginning of our books?

Reality exists even in fantasy, but do we write it raw or be considerate to the characters and those who may have experienced a horrible truth in real life?

life

A Time for Change

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Times are fueled by emotion, injustice, a strong belief of opinion, and media frenzy. A repetitive cycle of wrongdoing is apparent, but we tip toe the line of an influenced narrative.

As writers, do we have the power to open eyes when we are also driven by emotion and on opposite sides?

I don’t speak up often and if you let pain simmer in your chest, it will only cause you severe agony.

I have seen friendships torn apart by one’s mentality unable to comprehend understanding, unable to welcome change. Social media has become a war zone of finger pointing, name calling, and true colors rising to the surface.

I hate to say how there are more sheep in the field than wolves. Society has gained this mob mentality. If one person lights a match, the whole world goes in flames. I have seen people afraid to go against the masses.

Does the change really start from the top?

This may sound simple, but I believe change must happen individually before it can be done as a whole. Majority only see a whole group being bad seeds instead of opening their eyes to the truth.

Not all cops are out to kill, not all people of color are criminals. Not all who believe in Allah are terrorists. Not all white people are Karen. I can go on, but I think the point is made.

The color of our skin doesn’t determine the actions we commit. These are individual behaviors brought on by hate, possibly the way one was raised, or influenced by a world of ignorance.

I’ve noticed how quickly individuals get upset when they see #blacklivesmatter

Why?

I’m black and white. Regardless of sex, majority of my family is black. There is always a worry if they will make it home or if white privilege will be used against them. I also worry about the other half of my family because when society only sees color, they expect you to be a sheep herded towards the field of only one view.

I don’t like having to use the word white privilege. No, but it’s apparent how easy one hides behind it.

All life matters. No one changed that narrative. However, the focus right now is why it is so easy to repeat an unjust action on a particular group of people.

Answers, justice, and to be heard is all anyone wants regardless of background.

We need to change the hate in our hearts and blind ignorance with truth.

We should use our voices, but never shove our beliefs and opinions down another’s throat. I voiced mine. Will you voice yours?

Will you be part of change or part of the problem?

Stories, Writers

AOD CHAP 3

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I appreciated Doc’s Tavern location conveniently outside of town because making another trip to the city would’ve driven my irritation to an uncontrollable high.

I walked in to exactly what I had imagined, a drunk and irate Luis. This wouldn’t be his first trip down this route, but it would be his first shameful appearance. As I approached the man, I called my husband, his demeanor was unfamiliar — a stranger with lifeless eyes. When he realized the touch to his arm was from me, it drove his face to disgust. Luis turned his back towards me, and I was suddenly stunned by his action to hit my arm away from him. When our eyes met again, a feeling of anticipation took me over. 

“Look what you have done to me. You’re the tormentor of my soul, with your undeniable beauty and your wicked calm. You have my heart in your grip, yet it feels like you are squeezing the life out of it. The mother of my child, but the stranger in my bed,” Luis said as he barely kept his balance. “You have driven me into madness with your barrier. My mind running in circles trying to figure out what goes on in that fucking head of yours. Wondering if I am an idiot for falling for a lost woman and her daughter.” 

Even a man has a breaking point and I waited for the climax. I stupidly turned my back, trusted in the notion of Luis never devoting action to violence. As I approached the bar to discuss payment of damages, the sound of a gun cocking hit my ear. I saw the reaction in the faces which stood in front of me. I nodded “NO” to the man on the other side of the bar, praying no one would panic and run to their cellphones. I slowly turned to find a .45 pointed right at me by a very unstable Luis. 

“What are you doing? This does not fit the man I know. Anger, alcohol, and guns will only lead to self-destruction. You do this and the life you built will disappear. Killing me will not get you any answers. Ending my life will only fill yours with guilt and misery.” I said as I calculated every movement I made. As I calculated every probable movement Luis would make. 

Luis looked at me like a wild animal figuring out the best way to get its prey. “Fuck you! I would not be like this if I had never met you. You poisoned me. You run through my mind over and over like a pesky nat.”

The gap had closed, and I scanned the room, suspicious that someone dialed 911.  Luis and I locked eyes. “Pull the trigger. Destroy your tormentor. Fucking stop being a pussy and do it!” 

His hesitation was obvious to me. He was not a man without a conscience.

When Luis least expected it, I manipulated the gun in my favor and now Luis stared point blank at the barrel of .45. “Now, would you mind moving with quickness to the car, after you apologize to this kind gentleman for the display of irrational behavior?”  

A moment of sobriety had hit Luis’s face. I think the realization of an arrest had finally sunk into his fragile mind. He apologized to the owner and I made a reasonable payment for damages occurred and some extra for a fib in the story for when the dutiful men in blue come knocking. Thankfully, there were no cameras to catch our show and no young pricks to score a hit on YouTube. We made it out of the parking lot and past the officers as we drove down the road. In the passenger seat, Luis’s expression displayed disbelief of what he just attempted. My husband was confused considering he came from a household filled with love and not one drop of viciousness. We filled the ride home with silence and it relieved me knowing my children would not be home. 

Helping Luis in the house was more of an aggressive drop off to the couch. He might have been filled with alcohol, but he was very coherent. After I removed the clip from the .45 and displayed it on the table as if it was a snake to be cautious of, I threw my jacket on the chair and kicked my shoes off.

“Now is the time you listen. This stunt of yours was without a doubt senseless. You could’ve ruined your family’s reputation and lost your life. My anger does not generate from you having this fantasy of ending my life to suit your pain. No, cause baby I have been through much worse. You could have been locked up tonight and your children would have ended up with no parents.”

I slammed the letters on the table, watched them spread similar to a bird opening its wings.

“The obvious issues are these letters. Now is the time to ask what has been sitting at the tip of your tongue. I warn you, you will not like what you here.” 

Luis steadied his head into his hands. “The letters claim you were involved in bloodshed. Tell me it isn’t true.” 

“You wanted to know, and the claim of this fact is right. My hands aren’t clean. The details are not important and only for me to carry. There is no pride in what I have done, and my memory reminds me of it every day.” 

“You’re a murderer?! All these years and you fucking failed to tell me.” 

I heard the hate in his tone and saw the pain in his eyes.

“That is in the past, yet you wanted to open the door to it. Nothing has changed until you insisted on believing these damn letters. But now you are getting to know the old parts of me and you shame me for it.” 

Luis took a deep breath. “Is that why your body is scarred?” 

“What has been done to my body is the consequence of my choices. It is what happens when you disobey. It is what happens when you choose to fight. It is what we knew, what we expected, and what we lived for. Do not analyze what you are hearing, for you come from walls of gold and not coldness of stone.”

“Dammit Naomi! You put me in the category of being incapable of understanding harsh realities. Just because I was fortunate in my life does not make me less of a man. Give it to me straight and cut the bullshit.” 

I was starting to respect and appreciate the effort and change that Luis was posing, but I couldn’t expose everything. 

“I want to know what you did. I want to know who you worked for and who your family is.”

“The day I walked away and went on my own, was the day my family became no more to me. Don’t seek what doesn’t exist. You’re confused, infuriated, and in shock. There are questions I won’t answer, so don’t waste your time.”

 I walked into a mind field of persistence. Every move was a risk of explosion. The look in Luis’s eyes was one of foreignness.  

“Enough of the run around superiority bullshit! You look me straight in the eyes and tell me the truth or find your ass out of this house.”  

Luis rose as if he had gained courage from all corners of a bottle. 

“Bravo!” I said with a clap. “We believe we can hide behind a perception, but it only takes a press of a button to reveal a true side. I’ll sum it up for you. Culpability, anguish, being blind to what should have been seen. Getting wrapped in deep and unable to stop happened. Life happened. These letters tell the truth of someone formally me. It’s not who I am now.”

“Naomi, if that’s even your actual name, don’t walk away from me.” 

Luis got up, but soon fell back down when the room started to become a dizzy ride. 

“The only thing I haven’t twisted is my name. My love, you might want to close your eyes and make the couch your best friend.”

I hit the light switch and darkness filled the room. I departed to my bedroom in hopes enough information was given to satisfy the curious cat even though this was the first round of interrogations to the black holes in my life. My mirror became a therapy session as my reflection looked back at me. Was I making a mistake?  

I was so exhausted an attempt to remove my clothing was a heavy task and the free fall into the mattress was a welcoming cloud floating over a pool of hell. 

Stories

AOD Chap 2

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My arrival in Soriamora was forty-five minutes later because of the lovely stop and go of morning rush hour. Soriamora was a city with no limits, only to the extent of what the boys in blue couldn’t get their eyes on. I have seen worse than what Soriamora could ever throw at you, but grateful to have found this joyous place. It had given the opportunity to show my skills I could never say I regret gaining. 

I parked in the parking deck across from my establishment, Nevenkita Security.  The story behind this gift is nothing but short of a thank you to my wonderful husband. Luis had faith in my abilities, without questioning, and fronted the funds to begin this venture. I never expected the magnitude of welcoming business over the years. My goal with Nevenkita was to be unique and not a business with one specialty. I worked long hours attached to lonely nights to seek the best employees. It didn’t matter if they were down on their luck or they were currently employed and looking for more excitement. Nevenkita Security deals with mostly all aspects of safekeeping, which entails personal security, layout and alarm placement, information security, and a simple or complex escort detail. I hired male and female alike. I tolerated no discrimination against sex. Those whom worked for me knew they were equals. I hand-picked my employees with the intention of all of us having something in common with each other. We all shared the bond of having secrets with potential to destroy us. No secret was alike. We were outcasts with masks that hid our genuine faces. We were a family without verdict, and that is how I kept it.

They greeted me in the usual respectable manner that a boss should be treated with, only by way of repaying respect back. My confidant, friend, and partner Takuya Takahasi followed me into my office with a stack full of impending jobs and clients.

“By the tautness in your eyes, the start of this day was not of good intention,” said Takuya as he put the papers on my desk and took comfort on the lounger. I threw my briefcase down on my chair and took a single cigarette out of a hidden space in my desk. The first puff of the Newport was a delight and a mere instance of relief.  I placed myself next to Takuya and took a deep breath.

“It’s fucking grand. I finally find my place and have a family. Then this little rat chews a hole through my semi-perfect piece of rope. Then this rope slowly crumbles and now I have to decide if I need to open a box hidden for so long.” I said, irritation and anger seeped in my tone. 

I paced back and forth with so many mixed emotions which have never invaded my state of mind before. My movement jerked to an interrupted stop as Takuya has me halted by my shoulders.

“Naomi, I have never known you to be beneath your strength. You are like a rambling energizer bunny. You knew without doubt what needed to be done when you found out life was growing within you. You knew what was to be done when the decision was made to start a fresh life with love you never thought you had to give. The family I have worked hard for knows only what needs to be known. I have not left them in the dark of what my life had involved, but I do not leave them wondering if they should question my truth. We only trap ourselves by keeping loved ones at a distance. Talk to Luis, but be clever in your admission.”

Takuya and I share a history of betrayals and heartaches. We have seen the lowest of the lowest point one could plummet into. We were the true meaning of enemies becoming your most reliable allies. There is not one life in this world formed without the consequence of another, and our meeting was not one without complication. Takuya and I have met in the days never to be spoken of with the pleasure of words and the days only a deep look into one’s soul could reveal.

We were teens with no guidance, no love, and no shelter. We were the unwanted or the one’s labeled with “trouble” on their backs regardless if we had never broken a rule or a law. We were the “unlucky” ones. We knew of each other’s presence and heard each other’s names, but we were never on the same team. Just how there are various crews throughout the cities in the world, the same was for our city we considered home. We latched on to what we could call acceptance. Wrong as it may have been, we felt as if the ones we chose to be surrounded with were our family. It is funny how one day you open your eyes to see what appears around you. Takuya and I were pawns in a game we would never have won. On that day we were puppets on a string facing a test of strength and wants. As it smacked us in the face of awful realizations, we came to the understanding of not differing from each other. We made a promise to watch each other’s backs, as we broke free from the grip of immoral doings. Neither of us were proud of what hung over our heads. Deep down inside, we knew walking away only put a target on our backs. The day will soon come to face our sins.

I let out a deep sigh. “Anushka is more understanding and adaptable to unknown territory. For crying out loud, you found her in the middle of a shit hole. Luis was born with a silver spoon in his mouth and he has always been sheltered by his perfect bubble. I do not think you and I are standing on the same line.”

I released myself from Takuya’s grip and sat down at my desk. Takuya stood there as if he had absorbed my frustration. 

“You of all should know not to underestimate a person by their upbringing. Lord knows we have misjudged too many times. I know you, Naomi. You will let nothing out of your control and you always find a way of keeping things together.”

“Yeah…well…you forgot that I fuck things up. I tell you this much, I know what I am good at and that is working. Maybe we should end the counseling session and get back to what we get paid for.”

Dreading the schedule my day was consisting of, I pulled myself together and shoved these uncontrollable feelings to the side. It was meeting after meeting and presentation after presentation. Conference calls, appointment bookings, and paperwork were in the mix of it all. By the end of the day, I was looking forward to nothing but hearing my baby girl play her heart out. We had one last wrap up and then we could close shop.  In my tradition, I thank everyone each night for the hard work they put in. Without them, my business would not be as it is.

I say bye to Takuya and make my way back to suburbia. I had made it in time to watch Alexandria perform. The seat meant for Luis was empty and created a bitterness inside of me. His actions weren’t fair to Alexandria’s passion. I sat myself next to Daniel and Alexandria’s godparents, Jade and Sam.  My face disguised the anger I felt, and the beautiful music made everything better. At the moment, nothing would interfere with watching my baby girl play her heart out. Alexandria was so beautiful, and every emotion went into every note played. 

When the end of the performance was declared, the talented students received a standing ovation. As we all waited for Alexandria to say her goodbyes and respond to the many kind compliments, I stood outside engaged in conversation. 

“Where is Luis tonight?” asked Jade. 

“Luis works late tonight. You know how it can be,” I responded. Although Jade could be considered in the normal sense a very dear friend, I refrained from burdening her with my marital issues. 

“Oh…he is overworking himself. It is a shame he missed the performance. I am sure Alexandria will be very heartbroken.”

“What is a shame?” said Sam as he walked up with Daniel by his side. 

“You know. Yet another unattended event by my lovely Luis. Work just keeps him so busy.” I replied as I picked up my handsome little man, Daniel. 

Years ago, I would never have imagined Sam and Jade in my life. Sam Shallowton is a very intellectual human being. Sam and Luis knew each other long before I appeared in Luis’s life. It took me a while to fit this role in order to disguise my true self from others, and Sam was very curious of this new lady in his friend’s life. I couldn’t say that I blamed him. 

Jade is the definition of kind and the meaning of giver, which stemmed from the person in a very troubled time. Jade, like so many confused and helpless souls, has felt the rush of poison in her veins. She has felt the high of liquid courage and the taste of fast money. By some miracle, Sam and Jade had crossed paths. He saw deep within her and opened her eyes to a better future. He stood by her side through the withdrawals and the mood swings and stayed a hundred percent faithful when she went away to rehab. Even when Jade had received the news of never being able to bare children, Sam never felt the need to leave. Now that is what you call a guardian angel. A dutiful man he is, but a brilliant mind can lead you into unwanted territory.

“You know it would be so great if you two took time off and went on a trip together to get away. You two are always so busy and we love being around the kids. Does that not sound like a marvelous idea, honey?” Jade addressed to both Sam and I.

I gave a smile and was thankful Alexandria appeared at the right moment. Saved by the kid. 

“So, Mom, how did I do?” asked Alexandria with a sparkle in her eye. 

“Like totally awesome!” I responded, knowing how it would irritate her teenage nerves. 

“OMG Mom. Embarrass much?!” responded Alexandria with a burst of red on her face. She stormed to the car, and I couldn’t help laughing.

“Jade, sweetie, would you mind taking Daniel to the car and make sure both kids are ready for Naomi to take home? I just need to speak to her for a moment,” said Sam with a hint of dominance in his voice. 

“Of course. Are we still on for Saturday?” Jade said as we exchanged a friendly hug.

“It’s a date. Going to be a fun night.” 

I waited for Jade to make a distance and then turned back to face Sam. I already had a feeling a little birdie chirped in his ear. 

“What do you want?” I asked.

“I just want to let you know… I know. I will be watching you extra close,” said Sam with a firing squad behind his eyes. 

“That is cute. Are we going to play the Great Detective that solves the mystery at the end of the tunnel? You’re a smart guy, Sam. I don’t have to tell you where you should cross and where you shouldn’t.”

“Yeah, I’m smart, but I don’t like to be fucked with either. You’re breaking him. I have never seen Luis this lovesick with anyone. I’m warning you, you do right by him.” 

“Sam, I have never hurt Luis before, and I don’t plan on him withering away into a hole of no return. You can make your assumptions and judgments about me, but be careful of who you make your threats too. You’re a very important part in our lives and if you wish to remain that way, I would watch the line you are about to cross.” 

It was a moment of battle between our eyes. I think we both made ourselves understood and only the two of us would know of these words exchanged. We will be cordial, but cautious of each other. I am not afraid of the fire drawn by the determination of friendship.  

An interruption caused our eye battle to wave a white flag. My phone insisted on nagging with its ring until it forced me to answer. 

“Hello?”

“Hello Ma’am. This is Billy from Doc’s Tavern. There is a gentleman here claiming to be your husband and is highly intoxicated. He is very belligerent and says his name is Luis Borders. We don’t want to resort to police action if we can solve the problem in house. Do you know who this man is?”

I glanced over my shoulder towards Sam and hoped he bought my straight face.

“Yes. I will take care of it right away.”

It was hard to simmer the fury which ran through my blood, but I put my professional hat on and continued on.

“Is there a problem?” asked Sam. He fished with his eyes for a sign to validate his suspicions.

“There is a work emergency I need to settle. Do you mind taking the kids for the night?” 

I sensed Sam overworking the wheels in his mind. 

“I-”

“We would love to. Naomi, I don’t know how you do it all. You sure you’re not wearing a cape under there?” interrupted Jade. A gentle giggle followed her words.

“Ah, if I told you it wouldn’t be a secret anymore.” I committed to a playful wink after my less than impressive words. “I don’t know what Luis and I would do without you two.” 

Masks. It’s all about which one you wear at the moment. I waved goodbye to my children as Sam and Jade drove them away. I knew damage control would be my next task for the night. I only hoped this wasn’t the calm before a dreadful storm. 

life, Writers

Self-Doubt Kills Creativity

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I sit with my cup of coffee in front of my computer with all the necessary tools to work, yet I find myself on the other side of a transparent wall. One that was created from the self-doubt lingering in the corners of my mind.

I call myself an author, but doubt has entangled me with its rope of self-negativity. It tells me my writing is mediocre, my characters are bland, my creativity is a speck of dirt not worthy of any shoe.

It stabs me in the heart, whispers words in my ear. “Failure.” “Forgettable.” “Wannabe.”

My mind believes in the words as the grey cloud shadows me. I question my path. I question the words and worlds I create. Do I belong in this sea of creativity?

Self-doubt tears the creator into pieces and destroys the motivation to reach the hill of imagination.

I have written five books, yet my sales are weak. Reviews are none and only a handful of readers stick by my side. Does this make me an imposter? A fake wearing the badge of author?

There are days where self-doubt takes over, but then I break through the wall because the passion of story telling outweighs the need for my name to be remembered.

Never give up on your passion. Never fall into the trap of racing for popularity or fame.

Stay true to yourself. From one writer to another, we all have a voice. It will be heard.

Stories

Afterlife (chap9)

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Also known as Dark Angel and Her Prince

I opened the door and I’m taken to Wake Up Buttercup Café. Shay is leaning on the railing of the balcony watching her daughter, Scarlett, play. Her mind struggled in the distance with a thought. The world clouded with haze.

“Don’t lurk around me like a creep. Show yourself. Give me at least that,” Shay said as her eyes scanned the surrounding space. 

My transparency became a solid form which made Shay gasp and cover her mouth with her hands. 

“Hi,” I said, my hand moved side-to-side like I’m the topper to a fucking parade float. 

“You still look the same, like you never aged.”

“Yeah, death seems to be the real anti-aging cream,” I said with a nervous laugh. I saw a partial smile on Shay’s face and realized how gracefully she aged. Her blonde hair pulled back in a low bun, her makeup natural, and her clothes mommy chic style. 

“See you haven’t lost your smart-ass humor. Why are you here on this day?”

I felt like I was trying to get a good-sized jawbreaker down my throat, as harsh as my swallow sounded. 

“Even those we leave behind need to close a door, Shay. I’m here because you called me. Not through words, but emotions.”

Shay shook her head and looked towards the ocean.

“Today is the anniversary of his death. What am I to mourn when only a piece of him is buried beneath a headstone nobody cares for? He’s alone with only us to show him love in death. Do you know what they did with his body?”

When you choose to be a member of a crime organization, betrayal is looked upon differently. Drew no doubt was a great husband and father, but he forgot his place. We all tried to take back control of our lives, but no one escapes the consequences. 

“Our body no longer matters when we are dead, Shay. I’m sure Drew is always with you. Bringing you warmth and love on the days that are grey.”

“It matters to me! He was the love of my life, my heart and soul. He didn’t deserve such a death.” I saw the tears on her face brighten in the sun’s rays. “You were my best friend and caused me so much pain. Why, just tell me why?!”

Truth. Everyone wanted the fucking truth.

“You want the simple answer. I enjoyed it. The adrenaline rush of being on the wrong side was a drug I couldn’t stop shooting in my vein. Then there was a moment where I knew I needed to destroy the syringe before someone I loved found it,” I answered. Shay had this look I’ve never experienced before. “What happened to Drew was not on me, Shay.” 

“No. You don’t get to excuse yourself from this. It took me a long time to accept my best friend was dead long before her body was. No way would my friend be so selfish and twisted to do what she had done. She would have stayed and loved her child, never letting pride get in the way. She would have survived and made sure we were all okay.” 

It always hurts to hear the hatred in between the words. The pain aimed straight to my pathetic heart.

“There was no other way, Shay. I knew in the depth of my soul you would be safe or else I would have put a bullet right between Drew’s eyes the moment I found out who he was.” I paused when her eyes struck mine. It needed to be said. All of it.  “Your skin was thin, and your heart was pure. You would’ve tried to save me, and you know I wouldn’t allow it. Never, no matter how screwed up I made things, would you let my daughter suffer. I knew you would be the glue holding it together.”

“I hate you, selfish bitch. You never let me say goodbye and you created a hell storm.”

I watched Shay’s beautiful daughter play in the sand and even through all the pain caused, the shining light was right in front of us.

“There is an angel in her and in the sky. Life may have taken from you, but it has given you a precious gift of being a mother. Fuck all the other bullshit. Look at how she needs you, the unconditional love you two share. I’ll never have that, but it’s a fault of my own. I love you, Shay, like you loved the raspberry cheesecake chocolate delight here years ago.”

Shay wiped the tears from her face and then clocked me in the arm. “At least I’m not drier than the Sierra Desert. How are those cobwebs, by the way?!”

No, laughter wasn’t a sign of forgiveness or a wave to take away the pain I had caused. It was a moment of stepping back into time to a memory where the only thing we worried about was the opposite sex and a delicious dessert. 

Stories

AOD Chapter 1

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I am awakened by the sting of the sun’s touch as it hits my face and the cool morning breeze as it blows across my skin. The comforting sound of silence endorses that my children are still enjoying the warmth of their beds. The cold and undisturbed side, of which belongs to the man I gave my hand in marriage to, tells it wasn’t greeted by the warmness of a body. An unspoken sign of another fight not mended. I ignore the jab it struck me with and force myself to leave the sanctum of my bed. The steam and heat of a shower was the wake-up remedy I just needed, and the smell of my lavender body wash was the key to a happy remembrance of my favorite field with a bedding of flowers. I wish that this moment of relaxation would last forever, but reality would never allow for this state of retreat.

As I treated my body with lotion, my eye caught the image that was me in the full-length mirror. I suddenly realized what my husband saw. I suddenly realized the horror that was me. 

My body itself could tell my story. 

There were scars of pain that covered this sacred temple. Each scar had its own individual story. Each scar defined me. I did not need to see the physical marks when I carried the causes respectively in my mind. I knew the reasons that caused the fighting between my husband and me. The walls I have built around my personal Pandora box will not easily break. The eagerness that my husband holds to dig through the tombs of my soul only urges me to build stronger walls. It was only recently discovered that we have fallen into questionable loyalties. Our changing ways have become apparent and to stay on neutral territory, we have put our issues into the hands of a marriage counselor. I am not a believer of sharing issues with untrusting ears and definitely not fond of being analyzed. I am a hard code to crack.

I have a great appreciation for the things I own, from the fine silk blouse to the feel of my six-inch heels. Every article of clothing I wear is put on with care. I apply makeup on as if I am creating a masterpiece, with steady ease and complete concentration. I finish my look with the delicate scent of vanilla and succulent fruit, carefully applying the fragrance to my neck and wrists. As I am sitting at my stage of which I refer to my vanity, I could feel the burning stare of my opponent in this lover’s war I have found myself fighting.

There are never any words exchanged when we appear in the same room. My husband, Luis, just looks at me as if a stranger occupies this house we share. The cause being words written on paper made to destroy my name. I couldn’t confirm or deny to my loving Luis the words that cut so deep. I never thought he would ever understand the things I hold so far within my soul. I get up, wanting to touch him and kiss him, but every try is denied. I watched as he turns his back and disappears. I watch from the window as he gets in his car and drives away. My heart breaking more and more as Luis distances himself from me.

My mood brightens as I make my way downstairs. There at the table, eating lucky charms and frosted flakes, were my twelve-year-old daughter Alexandria and my five-year-old son Daniel. I could always count on my children to put a smile on my face. 

“Mom, I hope you did not forget about my concert today,” said Alexandria. Alexandria has the love of the piano and ever since she was taught at eight years old, she excelled to perfection every year. Although she is twelve years of age, she has the soul of an old wise woman. 

“Now, Alexandria, you know I would never miss your performance sweetie. Did you confirm if your father will be there?” I replied, knowing Alexandria hated the mushy talk. I swear that my eldest and I are twins. 

“Dad said he had a late meeting. I just wish for once he would not work all the time,” she answered. 

I knew it disappointed her. I was the cause of his no shows. When Luis is mad and hurt, he uses the avoidance method. 

“You know your father gets real wrapped up in work and he only does it so you and your brother can have the best.” 

I try my hardest to shield my children from the unnecessary coldness of my marriage. I have nothing but respect for the man who took on the title of “father”. Father is a word with a powerful meaning. A father is the one who physically and emotionally takes care of a child. One is not called a father because of his sperm breaking the seal, but because of his commitment to see to the end. Luis is not Alexandria’s biological father, and he never refused to take the position on. I was twenty-two years old when I met Luis and Alexandria was still developing in the womb. The story surrounding the man who gave me the blessing of a beautiful daughter is not one of simplicity. I know deep down Alexandria wonders and can see that she holds no features of Luis. She never asked about her biological father and has always accepted the love she is given. One day she will ask that heart dropping question.

“All right, kiddos. Let’s grab our bags and get ready for school. Do not forget your lunches,” I said as I put the dishes from the table in the sink and grabbed my travel mug. 

I enjoyed the morning rides of dropping my children off at school. It was a task I never minded doing. We all packed in my Cadillac CTS-V and hit the road of expected traffic. I wouldn’t usually endure the loud blast of music this early in the day, but my children were enjoying the melody of Black-Eyed Peas “Boom Boom Pow.” As I watched the little spirits in my back-seat dance, I couldn’t be prouder of what I created. My existence would not be with fulfillment if I was not consecrated with the ability to generate life. Motherhood is the greatest passion I have ever stridden in. I could never imagine my greatest joy ever being snatched from underneath me. 

As I pulled up to Alexandria’s school, my mind had hit a crossroad. To satisfy the inquisitive need of Luis, will I be sacrificing the safety of Alexandria and Daniel?It was no longer my life I had to worry about. I had two innocent angels and a blessing in disguise to look after. I pushed that thought aside and watched Alexandria wave goodbye as she caught up with her friends. Seeing Alexandria laughing and smiling with her friends made me yearn for those worry-free days back. We only get one childhood and mine was based on unwise decisions. 

Further down the road, I dropped Daniel off at elementary school. 

“Bye Mommy!” said Daniel as he gave me a big squeeze and proceeded through the doors.

The feeling of being unconditionally loved can never be replaced and the notion is indescribable. 

The calming part of my day was over and now came the exasperating drive to the office. I turned the radio to the “Steve Harvey Show”, which is stimulating and amusing, and continued onto the highway towards the city.

WALKING THE FINE LINE BETWEEN REALITY AND FANTASY