My name is Simone. I was born in a suburb outside of New York City twenty three years ago. By the time I was five, my mom had left my father for another man and followed this guy down south to Memphis, Tennessee. Edward was his name. I had never liked him. In less than a year, they were married.
By the time I was fifteen, he was looking at me more than he looked at mama. I concentrated on school, working at Mickey D’s, music and avoiding him. When I turned sixteen, Edward did the inevitable. He finally TRIED to make a move on me one night while mama was out with some of her friends. I was getting ready fry myself a bologna sandwich, when he came up behind me as I was getting a frying pan from a low cabinet.
I felt his manhood (I use the term loosely) brush lightly against my ass, causing me to jump. “Damn, dude! Move!”
I pushed him aside and set the cast iron skillet on the stove before turning it on. He blocked the refrigerator so that I could not open it. “I want to talk to you for a second,” he said running his finger down my arm.
“For what?!” I said, pushing against him. “We have nothing to discuss. Can I please get in the fridge so I can get my bologna?”
“When I finish talking to you” was his answer.
When he didn’t move, I tried to reason with him. “My frying pan is getting hot, dude. Will you please get the fuck out of my way?”
“You have a dirty little mouth, little lady,” he said with a sneer. “I guess that I am gonna have to put you in your place.”
He reached between my legs and rubbed against me roughly, saying, “Now you have to take your punishment.”
I fought with him for a few minutes before I recalled the cast-iron skillet that was now burning on the stove. I grasped it, adrenaline keeping me from feeling the heat and swung it across Edward’s head as hard as I could. He yelped in pain before falling to the floor, motionless. I ran to my bedroom, praying that I did not kill the jackass (I didn’t need a murder rap at sixteen!). I quickly filled two big duffle bags with clothing and grabbed the two thousand dollars that I had saved from flipping burgers for Ronald McDonald. As I ran out of the front door, I heard Edward scream, “I’m gonna get you, you little bitch!”
I scurried to my old 1985 Honda and hopped in. As Edward stumbled from the porch, I pulled out of the driveway, flipping him off as I drove away. I had a friend rent me a room at the Super 8 hotel so that I could get some rest. That night when I called my mother and told her what had happened, she told me that my story didn’t match Edwards and she couldn’t believe that he would ever do anything like that “because he would never hurt me” she said......
“Mama, why would I lie about something like this?” I challenged her.
“Baby, I’m not saying that you would lie about anything like this, but I just can’t believe that Eddie would ever do anything like that,” she argued. “Maybe you are just reading the wrong things into it.”
“Mother, he reached between my legs and started rubbing on me,” I state with annoyance. Could she really be that blind about him?!
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” she said. “I just can’t believe that.”
“Well, fine, mama,” I said, giving up. “Believe whatever you want to believe. I’ll call you back later.” Then I broke the connection. I stayed in the hotel for a few more days, sneaking home in the mornings to retrieve more of my personal items while mama and Edward were gone. On the last day that I was home, my mother caught me as I was going out the door.
“So you’re just going to up and leave huh?”
“I have to go,” I informed her. “You’ve taken his word ands feelings over mine one time too many. I can’t stay here. But I promise you that I will check on you from time to time. I love you, but it’s time for me to step out on my own. I HAVE to go.” I kissed her on her cheek before telling her “goodbye”.
I walked away from her, knowing that I would never return to that house.....
After finally getting in touch with my cousin, Don, who lived in a small town in Arkansas, I moved in with him. He was twenty-three and a bartender at a strip club called Phantasms. All he cared about was making sure that I had my half of the rent and utilities. I was waiting tables in the mornings at the International House of Pancakes, while focusing on my music in the evenings. After a few months, I had scrounged up enough money to get myself a decent music keyboard at a nearby pawn shop. I basically lived at work and at home.
Every now and then Don would have friends over. And on some nights, while Don was working, one of his friends would become a personal friend of mine. Hey! I like getting laid just like everyone else okay! Everything was normal in my life until I met Don’s girlfriend, Cherokee.
Cherokee had been a stripper at the club when she and Don had started dating, but he had insisted that she quit, so she did. He took care of her as needed and even paid her rent for a while.
Cher was Native American with long, blue black hair, almond eyes, and a set of breasts that would make any female green with envy (about a 36 DD, I’m guessing). A nice ass too. She was very pretty, not super model stunning, but she had that certain air about herself that kinda called to you, ya know... She was tall and slim with a gorgeous pair of legs that seemed to go on and on. Don called her legs his “belt” because he loved it when they were wrapped around his waist. Clever huh?
Anyway, Cher and I had grown close over the time that she and Don dated. She was the first friend that I can say that I’d had since elementary school. Every blue moon, she could even talk me into catching a movie when Don was busy. She would sit and listen to me play my keyboard and sing songs that I had written. She was my confidant & critic and I really enjoyed spending time with her. One day, she decided that we had grown close enough to have a heart to heart....
“Simone, I really need to talk before I explode,” she had told me, coming to see me one Thursday night while Don was at the club. “Can we talk?”
“Of course,” I told her, getting comfortable on my bed.
“I know that I am taking a big risk with our friendship by telling you this but.....” She hesitated.
“Just tell me,” I said.
“I’m leaving Don.”
I sat quietly, feeling that there was more. When she said nothing, I asked, “Is that all?”