A Turn for the Worst

The loud buzzing of the dryer jolted me awake from my nap. I went to fetch those clothes and transfer them to the nearby basket while simultaneously handling the next loads of laundry in the washer and dryer.

I picked up the basket and sat on the couch to begin folding it when the door swung open. My body tensed, and my nerves flared up as I glanced at the door. “Oh shit, I’m alone,” I thought.

Chris stepped through the door, sniffing the air.

“Damn, it smells good in here. What did you make?”

“Chicken and dumplings,” I replied softly.

“Is it enough for me?”

I nodded and resumed folding. Chris stared at me while he ate, which made me uneasy. I couldn’t fathom his thoughts or why he seemed determined to find the best way to take me out.

Okay, it wasn’t that bad, but my nerves were a jumbled mess, and the worst-case scenario seemed plausible at the moment. Finally, he broke the silence and spoke.

“So, uh, how was the thing at the school?”

“It was good,” I said simply.

“Did you do anything interesting?”

Hell yeah, I had my back blown out in the most incredible way possible and was shaking uncontrollably by the man of my dreams who actually pays attention to me and cares about me… Is what I thought in my mind.

However, what I actually said was, “Nope, just a bunch of children watching movies and eating snacks, typical movie night.”

“Why wasn’t I invited?”

That stopped me in my tracks, causing me to pause the folding I had been doing throughout this entire conversation. I looked up and saw that he meant it as if he hadn’t shown up drunk not too long ago and almost had my job terminated.

“You know why you weren’t invited.”

“Don’t give me that crap, Mira! You let me come to the festival, what made this event different?”

I took a deep breath because something in that question sounded loaded, as if he knew something.

“Chris, I just didn’t want to risk having you there?”

Lord, why did I have to say that? He got up from his chair and sat on the couch, scrutinizing me closely. His eyes never left mine during this encounter, which was genuinely unsettling.

“What exactly would you be risking?” he asked.

“Chris, please, not today. I just want a normal, decent day,” I pleaded.

“Except you can’t answer my question.”

“What is it that you’re really asking, Chris?” I asked as I got up to start putting away the clothes. I walked up the stairs, and sure enough, he followed.

I began carefully placing things in the drawers when he finally confronted me.

“You still fucking that little white boy of yours?” he demanded.

I froze for a moment. My shoulders stiffened, and my mind raced.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I replied.

“Oh yeah,” he said, turning me to face him. “Well, that fucking hickey on your neck says otherwise!”

Oh shit! I had completely forgotten to check my neck after Eric had been sucking on it last night. My eyes widened, and before I could run and check it out, Chris grabbed me by the throat, nearly cutting off my air supply. I scratched at his hand, trying to loosen his grip, but that only made him tighten it as he leaned in and simply said, “I loved you, Mira. I fucking loved you.”

With that, he threw me against my floor-length mirror, causing the glass to shatter and scratch me in various places. I tried to get up and avoid further injury, but he snatched me up and threw me against the wall. I put my hands up to protect my face.

“Stop it, Chris. You’re hurting me.”

“You haven’t felt pain yet,” he retorted.

That must have triggered something sinister in his bones because he grabbed my hair and yanked me to the ground, splitting my lip when he smacked me.

My face stung. With sheer terror, I curled up, wanting to protect myself. Then he grabbed my arms tightly and held me against the wall, staring at me. My face was wet with tears that had been falling.

I attempted to kick him, but my efforts were futile. Then, he spoke to me in the coldest tone I’d ever heard from him—a chilling mix of poison and hatred.

“You fix your lips to lie to my face again, and I’ll make you regret it.”

Without a second thought, he threw me onto the floor and walked into the bathroom.

Terrified, I scrambled to grab my phone, keys, and shoes, determined to get out of there. I didn’t hesitate to drive to Ayana’s house as quickly as possible. I didn’t even bother to call; I knew I had to reach safety immediately.

It wasn’t until I arrived at Ayana’s house and the adrenaline subsided that I felt a stinging sensation in my back. Warm liquid trickled down my spine. I cried as I stepped out of the car and made my way to the door. I kept beating until someone came.

Just as frightened as I was, Ayana’s mom called out to her. I rushed inside and sat in a chair in the living room.

“I’m so sorry for coming over unannounced, and I know you’re trying to recover,” I said.

“No, baby, it’s okay. What’s going on? Ayana, get down here!”

I turned around, dreading what I might discover.

“Could you please tell me what’s happening with my back? It hurts so badly.”

Ayana finally descended the stairs. Her eyes widened as she saw my condition.

“What the hell, Mira. What happened?”

Her mom rushed to retrieve the first aid kit.

“I’m going to take this shirt off to see what’s underneath,” she said.

She carefully lifted the shirt over my head and gasped. She pulled out some cotton balls and tweezers. I winced as she delicately removed pieces of glass from the cuts on my back. Ayana quickly fetched an ice pack for my face.

I squirmed as her mom cleaned the wounds and attempted to bandage them.

“I managed to get the glass out, and thank goodness the wounds aren’t deep enough to require a hospital visit. But it does look quite bad,” she said.

After that, she went upstairs to give me and Ayana some privacy.

“What happened, Mira? Who did this to you?”

“Chris. He kept asking me questions about last night and then asked about Eric.”

“Why is he still asking about Eric? He knows you’ve been messing with him right?”

“Yes but last night me and Eric were being grown…”

“At the school,” she asked surprised.

“Yes, but he left a hickey this time and Chris had seen it and freaked out. He threw me against my mirror, damn near choked the life out of me and slapped me and… I began to cry again.

Ayana examined my body. She looked at my neck that was now bruising from the hand prints around them. She looked at my arms that had the same marks. She tilted my head and seen my lip and the bruise forming from where he’d slapped me.

Anger settled into her face and she said still looking to see if it was more, “I’ll kill him.”

“No Yana, I’ll deal with it, please you have a lot going on,” I pleaded.

“Well you at least have to call the police.”

I looked worried. She just grew even more annoyed.

“Don’t tell me you don’t want to call the cops, what the fuck is your problem, Mira! Don’t go all soft on me now, he needs to be in jail for this. Look at your face,” she yelled as she held up a mirror.

She was right as usual. I looked terrible. Half my face was turning purple while my lip bled and my neck started to look like a maze of abuse. Not to mention my back.

She rubbed her head. “Will you at least call Eric?”

I shook my head. “No he can’t know about this. I’ll just go to the precinct and write a report.”

“You better do something because this is getting out of hand and you know how my mom is about drama.”

“Well we have to make sure she doesn’t find out. I just need to stay put a few days.”

“You didn’t bring your clothes.”

I shook my head.

“Let’s go get your stuff. Fuck him.”