Chapter 1
November, Present Day…
Slowly, Teisha
stirred - fear gripping her immediately.
Where am I? She tried to open her eyes, but they felt as
if they were glued shut. She heard
voices and moved her head in the direction they came from, but stopped short
wincing at the excruciating pain that shot through her like lightning. Who is
that? She wanted to scream, but no
sound would escape her lips. Not able to
move, she listened intently despite the throbbing pain in her head. The sounds of a hospital were apparent. I’m
alive? She questioned herself then
sighed with relief. I’m alive.
Bruised and
battered, she laid stiffly in the hospital bed.
She was not sure how long she had been there, but she was still living
and that counted for something. Every
muscle in her body ache from head to toe and any movement she tried screamed
resistance. Suddenly terror hit
her. He
probably knows I’m alive. He may come
back for me. I got to get outta here. With great effort, she was able to pry one
eye opened; the other remained swollen shut and refused to budge. Her one good eye scanned as much of the
hospital room in its view. Light blue
walls, a flowery border and oak furnishings gave the room a cheery feel in
contrast to the one who occupied it.
There were no flowers, get-well cards or balloons. No one would come for her. She had no friends. She had alienated herself from anyone who
mattered to her to keep peace with the one who never gave a damn about
tranquility.
Fear gripped her
as she continued searching the room for the one who put her there hoping that
he wouldn’t show up and finish what he started.
He hated her and made it his business to cause her as much pain as
possible. Tears slid down the side of
her face as she relived each painful moment still fresh in her mind.
* * * *
She had left work
early to go home and prepare a nice dinner for her boyfriend, Stefan, whom she
had been living with for the past twelve years.
She worked at Thomas Jefferson Hospital as a phlebotomist and loved what
she did, so to leave work early was unusual for her. They had a huge fight two nights ago and
hadn’t spoken to each other since. In
one of his fits of rage, he slapped her and punched her in the mouth making her
bottom lip bleed. She couldn’t remember
the reason for his outburst, but it didn’t matter anyway. He didn’t need a specific motivation for his
behavior. Instead of trying to figure
out his many moods, it was easier just to forgive him, move on and hope that
she would not be the cause of the next flare up. With that in mind, she felt it time to make
amends by preparing his favorite dishes and creating a relaxing atmosphere with
lighted candles fragranced with vanilla and soft jazz playing in the
background.
On her way home,
she made a quick stop into Victoria’s Secret and purchased a black lace top
with matching thongs. Usually when he
was liked this, nothing she did would please him, but she could only hope.
She stood in the
state-of-the-art kitchen with stainless steel freezer bottom refrigerator,
double stove and dishwasher. Expensive
kitchen gadgets lined the inside of large maple wood cabinets and granite
counter tops added to the rich décor.
Smiling as she
worked, she wrapped tilapia around a crabmeat stuffing, then frowned
remembering her encounter with him as she passed him in the hall on her way to
see a patient. He worked there as a
resident and they usually went to work and came home together. He ignored her, but spoke to every nurse at
the nurse’s station. Seeing how nice he
was being to them and the patients he passed by had her crossing her fingers
that his mood had changed, and that her romantic dinner plans would be a great
start to repairing their relationship.
Her heart sank as soon as the front door opened and he stepped in.
He came into the
kitchen, his lips curled up as if he smelled something unpleasant. “What the fuck are you doing home early,” he
said enunciating each word slowly, “and why didn’t I see you after work? I thought we discussed that you never leave
work without me.”
“I wanted to
surprise you with a special dinner to help cheer you up,” she said
automatically flinching.
He ignored the
delicious aromas permeating throughout the house and plunged forward. “That’s bullshit and you know it. You never come home early. Now, try again,” he said, crossing his
muscular arms across his chest and looking down at her as if he were speaking
to a child.
Her five foot
one-inch small frame was no match for his tall muscular build, thus she tried
to avoid what she dreaded would come next.
“I’m telling the truth,” she pleaded.
I love you, Stefan, and I just want things to be better. That’s all.
Why would I lie to you?”
“You would lie to
me ‘cause you a lying cunt just like all those other bitches.” He noticed the negligee for the first time
and chuckled. “What the hell is that
shit you have on?”
Her hazel eyes
flooded and threatened to spill at any moment.
“I put this on for you. I was
hoping…”
“Shut up. You lying bitch.” He walked around their home opening and
slamming doors. He was sure she had a
lover hiding somewhere in the house.
Every muscle in
her body shook, but she dare not move.
She tried to stop what was coming, but failed and there was nothing she
could do about it. When he was like
this, he would not listen to her. There
was no use in trying to make him understand any longer. He believed she was lying and nothing she
said would change his mind.
“Where the hell is
he?” he said approaching her with balled fists.
Confused, she
stared at him not answering him.
“I asked you a
question,” he raised his voice. “Answer
me!”
Still not sure of
what he was talking about, she answered with a question of her own. “Where is who? I told you, I came home to cook you a nice
dinner. I just wanted to do something….”
She paused figuring out what he meant.
“Are you asking me if I had a man here?
You know I would never cheat on you.
I’m cooking dinner. See…” she
said as she pointed toward the obvious meal he already seen to plead her case.
Before she could
prove further hat she was telling the truth, he backhanded her with a smack
forceful enough to leave a red whelp on her light-brown skin and knock her to
the floor. He then snatched her up by
her medium-length hair as she tried to scurry away and whipped her around. Pain cascaded down her arm at her
unsuccessful attempts to block punch after punch to her small frame. One of those punches connected with her eye
and she crumbled to the floor sobbing.
“Stop it. What are you doing? Please stop.
I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset
you,” she pleaded while rolling herself up into a ball.
“I don’t want to
hear that bullshit,” he responded, then continued his punishment to any exposed
flesh.
Not being able to
take another hit, she used the last of her strength to scramble away. She didn’t get far and felt herself being
grabbed by the waist and thrown against the kitchen wall. She tried once more to save herself, but was
punched in her other eye. She saw stars,
then blackness. The last thing she
vaguely remembered was falling down steps outside their home and landing on the
cold hard ground before she totally passed out.
She was awakened by the distant sound of an ambulance and someone
screaming her name. Not able to respond,
she once again slipped away into nothingness.
* * * *
Coming to herself,
turned her head slightly and stared out the window watching the sunset. “Oh God, he tried to kill me this time,” she
murmured and grimaced, feeling the pang of a split lip. Tears zigzagged down her face and pooled on
the side of her pillow. She reached up
to wipe them away but quickly put her arm down as fresh waves of pain shot
through it causing more tears to fall. How did I get myself in this mess, and what
am I going to do now? she questioned.
He threw me out and I have nowhere
to go; no one to turn to. She sighed
as despair gripped her heart and despite the hurt, she let out a gut wrenching
scream and thrashed about the bed. She
didn’t care about the racking pain in her body; she didn’t care about anything
any longer. She would rather die on her
own terms than be tortured once again by a man who obviously loathed her.
The noise from her
room brought in two nurses who held her down and a doctor who gave her a
sedative. Immediately, her body went
limp in response to the tranquilizer that coursed through her body. Her last thought as she slid into oblivion
was of her as a little girl, where it all began.
Chapter 2
1978…
Twelve-year old
Teisha, born LaTeisha Sanai Ames and named after her mother, walked slowly
toward her row home on Fifty-Ninth and Walton Street talking nonstop with her best friend,
Monique, who lived around the corner in an apartment with her mother on
Sixtieth Street. It was a hot July day
in Philadelphia, and beads of sweat formed on her forehead as the temperature
soared into the nineties. In a habit she
picked up from her mother, she dug out a scrunchie from the back pocket of
tight jean shorts and pulled up her thick long hair into a ponytail to get at
least a little relief from the heat. She
loved her hair, but on days like this, long hair was insufferable.
She rounded the
corner of her block and stopped short causing Monique to bump into her. “What’s
wrong, Teisha? You look like you saw a
ghost or something.” Monique turned in the direction of a loud scream and got
her answer. Teisha’s stepfather, tall
and muscular from daily workouts, was spanking her mother with a black, leather
wide-strapped belt in front of the entire neighborhood. With each slap across her backside, he yelled
repeatedly at her, “you’re one stupid bitch and I can’t stand your ass.” Her mother screamed for help and tried to run
only to find herself tripping over her feet and falling to the ground as her
husband continued his onslaught. He
dragged and pulled her slight frame into the street as if she were a child. Fighting back was of no use as she was
powerless to stop her torturer.
Her mother, once a
voluptuous woman with a small waist, ample hips and thick legs had lost several
pounds and now at thirty-one years old looked skinny and scrawny. It was clear
she had finally given up on life and Teisha privately hurt for her mother.
Teisha not only
carried her mother’s name but was also a mini version of her with curly dark
brown hair down the middle of her back and hazel-colored eyes, framed by thick
eyelashes, that seemed to change color from brown to green depending upon her
emotions. Tiny freckles dotted her
cheeks and a button nose added to her attractive face. Fair-skinned, she was sometimes mistaken as a
Latina or maybe of mixed nationality, which she laughed off. In actuality, she didn’t know and could not
answer any questions regarding her race.
She identified herself as Black.
The neighbors
watched in shock; disbelief clearly registering on their faces. Hearing their neighbors fight was a regular
occurrence and became weekend entertainment and the basis for many jokes, but
actually seeing it take place right before their eyes was too much for some to
bear. Parents rushed their children into
the house and slammed their doors. Someone
called the police as sirens could be heard in the distance, and others looked
on, not sure of what to do.
Teisha shook in
the spot where she stood and more beads of sweat formed on her brow. All surrounding sounds seemed to fade as the
only thing Teisha heard was the smacking sound of the belt against her mother’s
thighs, arms, and back; basically any place her stepfather would land it. Red whelps and bruises covered her face, arms
and legs.
This was the first
time Teisha had ever seen her mother beat violently with a belt, and to her,
this was the ultimate disrespect. What
was worse to Teisha was that her mother allowed this to continue happening to
her, and there was nothing that Teisha or anyone else could do other than stand
still and watch as her stepfather wrapped his beefy hands around the belt and
continue to strike her mother, throwing in his fists to add to her misery.
Monique tried to help her move so she could help her mother but Teisha wouldn’t
bulge. From Monique’s insistent nudging,
Teisha snapped out of her daze and became aware of the police cars surrounding
her block, and her mother pulling on her stepfather not to leave as the
officers roughly handcuffed him and threw him in the back of the patty
wagon. Teisha’s eyes were fixed on her
mother, screaming for her abuser, and chasing after the police car for him to
come back.
After the police
left and all drama ceased, the day returned to a typical summer day as parents
let their children come back out to play in the street with their bikes and
jump ropes. Some women gathered to
gossip about the day’s events while shaking their heads at Teisha’s mother, who
was finally helped into the house by a concerned neighbor. Her mother refused to go to the
hospital. This same person, a pleasantly
plumb black woman who lived next door and always had a kind word, walked over
to Teisha and hugged her with strong loving arms as she led her into the house
as well. Monique followed close behind
and lingered in the living room not sure of what to do. Teisha didn’t acknowledge the neighbor nor
Monique but instead treaded slowly up to her room her heart heavy. The kind neighbor stayed and tried to reason
with her mother explaining in great length that she did not deserve abuse and
that help was available to her.
Monique listened
as the neighbor tried and failed – her words falling on death ears. After a while, the neighbor left with
promises to check on Teisha and her mother.
That was Monique’s cue to leave and be with her friend. She went up to Teisha’s room and found her
slumped on the bed in a fit of tears.
She lent Teisha her shoulder and sobbed along with her. The relationship with her mother wasn’t that
great either and she could easily sympathize with her friend’s pain.
Monique held
Teisha until she fell asleep then grabbed her favorite blanket with the Looney
Tunes characters drawn on it and placed it gently over her. She then stood by her bed and stared at her
best friend. She didn’t have the guts to
wake her up and tell her that she was suddenly moving to a new house across
town in Mt. Airy and that she would not see her every day. Instead, she went over to Teisha’s desk, got
out a pen and paper and wrote her a note promising that she would call her as
soon as the telephone was set up. She
also said that she would visit often because she knew how to take the bus on
her own. Feeling good about the letter,
she left with one final look at her friend – a single tear sliding down her
cheek. Teisha had been her best friend
and only confidant, and she would miss her terribly.
* * * *
Teisha woke up to
a dark room and the sounds of loud moans.
She didn’t have to get up and peek in her mother’s room to know that her
stepfather had returned. This was not
the first time that her stepfather was picked up by the police to only return
later that night or early the next morning.
It was always the same with her mother - she would suffer violence at
the hands of her husband then scream for help, but when help came, she would
drop all charges and pick him up from the police station. Things would be great for a few days, but then
the fighting and arguing would start all over again.
She had little
respect, if any at all, for her mother, and she could not understand why she
never did anything for herself. She
depended on a man for everything, and seemed to not function well if she didn’t
have a man in her life. She did the
cooking and cleaning, and whatever else the man wanted her to do so that she
never had to work. Most of the men she
dealt with were abusive and nasty to her, but her mother did not care. As long as her bills were paid, she had a
roof over her head and a nice car to drive, she dealt with whatever was dished
at her.
Teisha didn’t know
her real father. Apparently, he left
when she was very young, but from conversations she heard between her mother
and the one girlfriend she had left, she still loved him and wish things could
have worked out. He was good to her and
she messed it up. From hearing that,
Teisha daydreamed about the father she could not remember. She fantasized about him coming to rescue her
to live with him and his new family, a loving family that would take her in and
care for her as she would them. As time
went on and the beatings, fighting and arguing continued, she gave up on her
dreams believing that they would never happen.
She hated her stepfather and when he would
come near her, she would flinch and step back.
She never called him dad, even though he had been married to her mother
for over five years. Even when he was
nice to her and her mother, she still didn’t trust him because at any moment,
he could turn on her mother for any reason he deemed appropriate. After hitting her mother, he would turn to
Teisha and tell her that a woman needed a good ass whoopin’ sometimes and that
it was a man’s duty to keep his woman in line.
Teisha sat up in
bed and pulled her knees up to her chest.
Despair filled her heart, and sobs shook her body. She had no one to call and nowhere to
go. Her mother had kept her from other
family members at the insistence of her husband as he didn’t want her family
meddling in their business. Thus, Teisha
didn’t know if she had family who loved her and she didn’t care; she just
wanted to get away from where she was.
But for now, she was trapped and alone.
Without fully
understanding, she accepted that maybe her life was supposed to be this way and
unknowingly set herself up to walk in her mother’s shoes.
* * * *
Teisha walked out
of her mother and stepfather’s house at the age of twenty and vowed never to
return. With an associate of science
degree and a job at Thomas Jefferson Hospital as a phlebotomist, she found her
own apartment and moved out as fast as the movers could get her out. She had no relationship with her mother
anyway and it was best to leave and go her own way. While working, she continued her education
and secured her bachelor’s degree in clinical laboratory science. She hadn’t landed a position in a lab after
graduation, but she enjoyed what she did by becoming a great phlebotomist with
a notable reputation.
As a young
beautiful woman, many men approached her complimenting her nicely shaped bottom
and firm breasts. She secretly enjoyed
the attention, but then quickly realized that she was attracting the same type
of men that her mother had dated. She
didn’t feel strong enough to walk away from obviously abusive relationships,
and fear caused her to avoid men altogether.
Her lack of self-confidence; however, made her an easy target and as
much as she was afraid of being like her mother, she inevitably fell into one
unhealthy relationship after another.
Then she met
Stefan Williams. To her, he was
different because he didn’t approach her the same way some of the other younger
men did. He was cultured, thoughtful,
kind and generous. He took her to
expensive restaurants and showed her a side of life she never experienced. Being the chief resident at the hospital
where she worked, he exuded a certain power that attracted her, and when she
lost her virginity to him, she fell head over heels in love.
After only a month
of dating and at his insistence, she moved out of her apartment and into his
beautiful single-family home in Yeadon, PA.
She thought it was cute when they went to work and came home
together. He was always by her side and
wouldn’t let anyone near her without him being present, especially other
men. Eventually, she became tired of
this attention and begged for a little space to meet other people and hang out
with her friends. Stefan wasn’t having
it and her life changed drastically.
Normally an outgoing person, she became isolated from her friends and
didn’t attend any affairs unless Stefan was invited as well. She dedicated herself to pleasing him and
thought that maybe his possessiveness was his way of expressing how much he
loved her. Tuning everyone else out, she
focused only on him, and the very thing that she was afraid of most would
quickly dominate her life. The first
slap stunned her, a punch floored her and that was only the beginning.
