Love or something like that: An abuse story

An abuse story

I want to talk about love in a subtle way and laugh, 
No hard feelings, just pure joy
Laced in each memory that twirls across my mind.
I want to know love in its deepest form,
Loving myself and loving you especially.
I don't want to fight, I have no strength left in me to fight 
So instead, can we make this work?

Trinity sat on the table, her eyes twinkling as she stared at the purple scented note engraved with flower drawings in her hand. A smile formed as she closed her eyes and bit her lip.

The door creaked and she opened her eyes to see Timothy with a bunch of roses in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other.

“Babe, you didn’t have to,” she said as she stood up from the chair and hugged him, the corners of his mouth upturned in a bright smile revealing his not-so-white chiseled teeth.

“I love you babe and I am so sorry that we keep fighting. I am very sorry.” He said frankly and buried his head in her shoulder. 

She nodded as she hugged him, his cologne filling her nose as his hand groped her buttocks subtly. 

In the midst of their moment, her phone started ringing and she sighed. She lifted his head from her shoulder and placed a kiss on his lips before turning towards the table to grab her phone. 

“Who is calling?” Timothy asked, an expressionless look on his face.

Trinity looked at the caller ID and gasped. It was Chu, her friend from work. The time was 10:32pm.

“Babe, I have got to go to work. My shift was for 9:00pm and,” she unlocked her phone and scanned through Chu’s messages, “Chu cannot cover for me. The clinic is very busy tonight.”

Trinity took her phone and dashed into the bedroom. “I wonder how I fell asleep and forgot about work,” she said as she rummaged through her wardrobe. 

“It’s already late. You cannot go anywhere and today is our anniversary babe.” Timothy whined like a child.

“Well, anniversary won’t pay bills,” Trinity said as she hurried out of her lounge wear and changed into a black t-shirt and jeans. 

Timothy nodded and walked out of the room while Trinity packed her braids in a bun and checked herself out in the five-foot mirror wedged between the wall and wardrobe.

“Babe, how do I look?” She asked as she came out of the room, hurriedly grabbing her keys from the basket on the dinning.

“Not bad at all,” he said and munched on a snack.

Trinity smiled as she walked to the door. However when she tried to open the door, it refused to budge. She tried to unlock it but the key was absent on the key hole.

“Babe, where is the key?” She asked impatiently.

Timothy ignored her as he increased the volume of the television with the TV remote. 

Trinity exhaled loudly as she walked towards him and searched his pants for the key. 

“Really, where is it?” She asked, urgency evident in her voice.

“It’s too late to go out. Tell Chu to cover for you. Today is our fucking anniversary Trini and you have been so busy in the past two weeks that I have not had a good fuck!”

“Is that what this whole thing is about?” She withdrew as she measured him with her eyes.

“Stop looking at me like that!” He shouted now, visibly offended as he stood up and towered over her.

“So this whole love something was a charade ‘cause you wanted a good fuck? Are you serious?”

“I know Chu likes you. That yellow boy been trying to steal you from me and I ain’t gon’ let it happen ’cause you my queen and I made you!”

“Hol’up nigga!” Trinity shouted and raised her hands. “You didn’t make me shit. I worked menial jobs to get my education. I never took your money, instead I gave you. The only thing you’ve done for me was stick around, nigga.” 

Timothy bunched his hands as he inhaled and exhaled. He was really losing it.

“And Chu is just my colleague. How many times do I got to tell you?” Trinity asked, exhausted.

“I seen the way he size up yo ass every chance he get.”

“I am a woman, people are bound to stare especially with the fat ass God blessed me with, the pretty face and perfect boobs along with this fine brown my ancestors passed on to me. You ought to stop getting worked up because you know I am yours.”

Trinity exhaled as she held his hands. “You want us to work babe, trust me like I trust you-”

Timothy snatched his hands from hers, “if you trust me, you wouldn’t have said that shit about paying bills. I have my life figured out and I been working tirelessly since I returned from jail trying to put food on the table and all. You and Charity are all I got. Yet your sister reported me to the cops cause of one mistake, how you think that make me feel?”

Trinity nodded as she understood where this was going. Her phone was ringing loudly but she ignored it. 

“That one mistake cost me a lot. I almost lost my license and my job, you beat me to a pulp despite the fact that we ain’t ever been married and this house, it is actually mine. Matter-of-fact, I sent our kid off to a Catholic boarding school so she doesn’t ever have to witness that again. I been taking your shit and I took you back when others, ’em hoes and your fake ass friends, left you to rot in there.”

Timothy huffed.

“I have always been there for the past fifteen years of your life mate. Fifteen. And yet, you still think I don’t care?”

Timothy smirked. “If you cared, you wouldn’t say the shit you just said. You wouldn’t flaunt your money in my face and call me an ex-convict.”

“But that is what you are.” Trinity crossed her arms around her breast, “matter-of-fact, let us have that conversation.”

A throw pillow hit her eyes and she flinched. Before she could ascertain what was happening, Timothy was on top of her, his hands on her neck. She gasped for breath as she struggled to free herself but Timothy’s hands were strong.

Tears rolled down her temple as Charity’s smile flashed through her mind. Her phone was ringing loudly but the strength had left her hands and she could feel her lungs collapsing.

Timothy gasped as the door flung open. 

Standing in the doorway was Stacy, Trinity’s sister, and Charity who was holding a mini-vacation bag.

“Mummy!” Charity shouted as she hurried towards Trinity who was unconscious.

Stacy was already dialing 911 when Timothy snatched the phone from her, but it was too late, a dispatcher had picked on the first ring. 

“Hello, state your emergency.”

“A man been hitting on his girlfriend and he is an ex-convict for the same crime which he committed five years ago!” Stacy shouted. 

“Please state the address-”

Timothy ended the call and his hand clutched Stacy’s neck. Charity grabbed her mother’s favorite mug from the table and threw it at Timothy. It missed him by an inch before shattering on the floor. Timothy was too preoccupied with strangling Stacy that he didn’t notice the knife Charity was holding.

“Leave her alone,” Charity shouted but he didn’t budge so she stabbed his stomach and got his attention.

An old Caucasian man was walking his dog when he noticed the commotion through the open door. He quickly called the cops and watched from the curb.

“Stop hurting my mom.” Charity cried as she stared at the crimson red that had painted her hands like laali.

Timothy groaned as he held his side, blood gushing out like rivers of living water.

Charity stood there crying as she realized what she had done. 

Trinity woke up and was stunned by what had happened. She battled the tears and grogginess as she hurried towards Charity and pulled the crying twelve-year old into an embrace.

Outside, sirens were wailing and an ordinary night became extraordinary.

Food for thought: check here!