Nevaeh's Hope
Page 1
Nevaeh’s HOPE
by
Thereasa Black
Dedication
I dedicate this book to my mom, Jackie Black. She encouraged me to finish it and has been my number 1 fan. I love you and appreciate all that you have done for me.
Prelude to Darkness
Nevaeh
It’s not true what they say about your life flashing before your eyes at the end. Or maybe it is and I don’t know it because I’m not there. As I lay on the cold concrete, feeling my body being engulfed by a warm fluid, that’s the only thought that popped into my head. The flashback, where was mine? It was weird. I could hear everything and yet nothing at the same time. I heard the tires screech as the car sped away. The terrified screams of the witnesses filled the air. It all seemed so distant, like it was happening to someone else.
I know the bullets were meant for my brother, but they got both of us. Eventually, I heard the sirens of the ambulance; I’m just glad that it came this time. I wish I could say that I was in excruciating pain, but I didn’t feel anything. Was that the cue? Is this what happens instead of the flashback of my life? Numbness? It slowly travelled across my body.
The world seemed a blur as they loaded us onto the ambulance. The paramedics quickly hooked us up to the machines. I could hear our two heartbeats. He was terrified. I could tell because his heart was beating so much faster than my own. The EMT’s were much more worried about his life than they were for mine. He was all that they were talking about.
I attempted to switch my focus away from their words. I knew that his certain fate was only going to lessen my desire to live without him. I closed my eyes, against the recommendation of my caretakers, and honed in on the sound of the life-saving equipment being tossed around as we travelled down the pot-hole ridden street. Each sound reassured me that I was still alive.
Suddenly, I heard them call out, “We’re losing him! We’re losing him!” I was violently yanked back into the realities of our circumstances. The heartbeat that once raced from excitement had now become a slow inconsistent beep on the machine. “Beep, beep,” five seconds passed, “beep, beep.” Then came the dreaded sound, the one from all of the movies and television shows. That never-ending sound that seems to go on forever in your mind. When you flat line, when he flat lined, that was it for me. I knew that sound meant that his heart had stopped and a strange feeling of relief came over me. He deserved it, he ruined our lives. There was no attempt to resuscitate, no sound of a defibrillator charging.
Was this the end for me too?
Chapter I
Shadows
Marsha
It was 2:30 in the morning when I finally walked in the front door. In my head I exclaimed, “Honey, I’m home.” But I knew there was no point. Not only did I kick out my piece of shit boyfriend a couple nights before, but if I said anything, it would wake up the kids. My kids, the joys of my life, the apples of my eyes, and the burdens on my back. I was too young when I had them, but I was in love and I didn’t believe in abortions, back then anyway.
Me and Max had it all figured out. He was going to join the Army once he graduated high school and I was going to drop out and get my GED. He was seventeen and I was a year his junior, what else could we do? Nevaeh was born about four months before his graduation. My mom had kicked me out and his parents refused to help us. I ended up sleeping on the couch of my best friend’s mom. I don’t know what made my mom think that the right punishment for a pregnant teenager was kicking her out of the house, but that’s what she did. I was working at a fast food place before I gave birth, so I had a little money saved up for when little Nevaeh came along. That money only lasted a month. When we needed diapers and formula and neither my mom nor Max’s parents would help us, he turned to selling drugs. He made some quick money, but got busted about two months after he started. This meant bye bye to the Army and hello to a bunch of new problems. Our baby now had two parents without a high school diploma, we had no money, no place to stay, and no realistic plans for the future.
I hate reminiscing, there’s nothing good to look back on. All I know is that now I’m a single, twenty-nine year old, high school drop out with three kids and a locked up baby daddy, sneaking into my apartment so I don’t wake up my kids. Pathetic. I can’t even keep a man for more than a year because all I seem to attract are scum bags. But what can I expect? I have three kids. What kind of man in his right mind wouldn’t go running once he sees all of my baggage? I have to take what I can get.
Nevaeh
I think I just heard the door, I hope that’s mom and not that crappy boyfriend that she kicked out the other day. I don’t even understand how she stayed with him for so long. I guess it was because he was a free babysitter. Well, that is if you consider sitting in the house all day glued to the TV and drinking, babysitting. I mean, he beat her every time she came home after 2 in the morning. He always claimed that one of his friends called and said they saw her with another guy. We all knew he was lying. He doesn’t even have a phone and he never answers the house phone.
Then there were the nights when he would sneak into my bedroom once the twins fell asleep. I hated him. It started about three months after he and my mom started dating. In the beginning, he would just come inside and look at me. But once I started wearing huge sweatshirts and sweatpants to bed, it got worse. About a week after my brilliant idea, he began touching me. I always tried to pretend to be asleep. I was afraid that if he knew I was awake, he would take it further. He eventually bored with just touching a thirteen-year-old girl and moved to worse things. Things that I couldn’t pretend to be asleep for.
He threatened my family afterwards. He said, “If you tell anyone I’ll kill everyone you love.” Of course, I believed him, but just in case I didn’t, he beat my mom especially hard that night. He said it would be worse if I opened my mouth. I remember the next night I put a knife under my pillow. My plan was to cut it off if he tried to put it near me. I chickened out. That would only make him angry. If I was going to use the knife, I was going to have to take him out with it. That was something that I wasn’t strong enough to do. Instead, I just cried. I cried because of the pain that he was causing me. I cried because I knew that my mom was too tired to realize the change in my attitude. I cried because I knew that I wasn’t strong enough to save myself and my family.
Junior
“What was that sound?” I asked my twin sister. “I think Jamal is back.” She didn’t answer.
She was probably asleep. She always slept through the worse nights. I never wanted to wake her, so I stayed awake in my real-life nightmare, alone. Jamal was a big guy, they always were. Mom never picked any skinny ones that I had a chance of taking down for her. Jamal was definitely the biggest and the meanest of all mom’s boyfriends. He hit her all the time and left her with bruises everywhere.
The first time he hit her, I didn’t know what was going on. They always argued but this time was different. I heard them yelling and then the yelling just stopped and there was a big crash. Afterwards, my mom began to cry. I ran out of my room to see what was wrong, Sasha was right behind me. That’s when I saw Jamal punching her in the face. Sasha looked scared and didn’t move, but I went running at him with my fists up. I was the man of this house and it was my job to protect the women. I punched him a few times in his back before he swung me into a wall. Everything went dark after that.
When I opened my eyes again, my mom was standing over me with blood running out of her nose. “Mom are you ok?”
“Are you okay?”
I looked around, but Jamal was gone when I woke up and the apartment was a mess. After that night, the beatings became normal. The fights happened almost every night. Most of the time, Sasha just pulled the covers ove
r her head and cried. I always came out of my room and yelled at him. Once and a while I would see Nevaeh limp out of her room and try to stop Jamal. I could never figure out why she was limping, she didn’t play any sports, but she was clumsy. But I still couldn’t figure out how she always managed to get hurt, especially at night time. She was always fine before she went to bed.
I wish my dad was here so this wouldn’t happen to my mom. He would protect her from these guys.
Sasha
I woke up when the front door opened. I wasn’t sure if it was mom or Jamal, but either way, I was going to pretend to be asleep. A few seconds later I heard Junior ask me if I thought Jamal was back. I ignored him. If he thought that I was awake, then he would come to me and see the tears pouring down my face. He and Nevaeh were stronger than me. I couldn’t stand to see that monster hit my mom. I knew she kicked him out two days ago, but she always kicked him out and she always let him come back.
I wonder where he went when he left. I always prayed that he was living on the street in a dumpster. Guys like him don’t deserve a family to help them out. A man isn’t supposed to hit a woman. It’s weird though, they always say that in the movies, but, just like my mom, the women always stay with the guy that hits them in the end.
I was sure that my mom was going to dump him the first night we saw him punch her. I mean, he threw Junior into a wall and he didn’t wake up for like ten minutes. After Junior hit the wall me and Nevaeh ran to him while mom called 911. Jamal left when Nevaeh told him that mom was calling the cops. He was afraid to get locked up again. He slammed the door as he left, but not before knocking over everything in his path. My mom crawled to Junior and we all stayed with him until he woke up.
I don’t know why Jamal was so scared of the cops. He knew that they hardly ever showed up in this neighborhood. That night was no different. None of us were surprised when they didn’t show up. A few days before, someone robbed and shot our neighbor. The cops didn’t come until the next day. By then, Mr. Johnson had already taken the bus to the hospital. I heard the cops showed up at the hospital to question him and asked if he was shot because he was involved in drugs.
After that first night, I kept out of site. Especially since a few months after that, Jamal started touching me. He told me that I was pretty and special and he wanted to show me how beautiful he thought I was. I didn’t like it. I told him to stop, but he said if he stopped touching me he would start touching Nevaeh and I didn’t want her to have to go through that, so I let him. She was always sad and I knew that would make her worse. She was getting fatter lately. I wonder if she’s gaining weight because she’s sad about mom.
I stay in my room most of the time now. Junior was usually in here and Jamal never tried anything when Junior was around. I guess I believe in that saying, “out of sight, out of mind.” Jamal would corner me in the kitchen sometimes or find me when I got out of the shower, but most of time, I think he forget about me. That’s why I stopped running out of my room every time he and my mom got into a fight; he remembered that the next day when mom was gone. I always heard him yelling at Junior and Nevaeh for getting into “grown folks business.”
That’s the reason that I just laid still when Junior asked me if I thought it was Jamal. I hoped it wasn’t, but if it was, I wasn’t giving him any reason to think about me later on.
Marsha
A nice warm shower is the perfect end to a long tiring day. I wonder if I should cut back on my hours now that Jamal isn’t here to watch the kids. All of this working reminded me of right after I gave birth to Nevaeh.
My mom was excited about her first grandbaby, only after she was born. She would babysit after she got off of work so that I could go to work at a factory. I didn’t want my daughter being held by that backstabbing hypocritical woman, but I had no other option. How could she judge me so harshly when she was pregnant with me at the same age? She would take care of Nevaeh at night, but I had to take her back the second that I got off. With Max being locked up, I got really lonely. Since I spent all of my time at work or taking care of the baby, all I had was an empty void. The only thing that kept me going was that little baby in my arms. I sang her my sorrows to put her to sleep, “Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high…”
That was not much different than what I have now, I guess. There’s still this bareness inside that I just can’t seem to fill. I try to block the feeling by working double shifts every day and staying busy, but at the end of the day, when I’m all alone, it still haunts me.
I wasn’t looking forward to lying in my bed. It makes me remember all of the bruises on my body. When I’m walking around all day, I only feel aches, but when I lay down, all I feel is pain. Fucking Jamal. Once drinking five shots of the old Captain before coming home wasn’t enough to numb out the beatings, he had to go. Plus, I know it isn’t healthy for my kids to see and hear him beating me up all of the time. Kids develop disorders over less.
Nevaeh
It sounds like she came in alone. If she wasn’t alone, I would have heard things breaking instead of the shower running. I would go check but I don’t want to walk in on anything. If he is here, they could be having a good night and I wouldn’t want to see that disgusting animal on top of my mom. I hated that look in his eyes.
I prayed for God to send me my period after that first time so he couldn’t come get me anytime he wanted. He answered my prayers. It was the only thing that kept him from doing what he pleased. But two months ago, or was it three, either way, it stopped coming. I read that when a girl is really stressed her period stops coming. I was working on being calmer before my mom kicked Jamal out of the house. Thank God she did. I was waking up in the morning so afraid of him that I would throw up. Now that he’s gone, I can work on lowering my stress and getting back to normal.
Junior
I was ready for him tonight. I got a butterfly knife from one of my friends the day after my mom threw Jamal out. He was lucky. The only reason I didn’t have it for his last night here was because James forgot to steal it from his brother. I swear I would’ve made Jamal feel the pain that he inflicted on my mom every night. Lucky for us, we live in the kind of neighborhood where we’re guaranteed a couple of days before the cops show up. My friend didn’t think that I would have the guts to do it. But I already knew the truth. The only thing that stopped me from killing him all of those other nights was the fact that he was about twice my size. I may only be ten but I’m a ten-year-old gangster and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for my mom and sisters, nothing.
I opened the door slowly and slipped into the hallway. I tried to move as quietly as I could along the creaky floor. I was a Native American sneaking up on my prey. I remember learning that they walk on the balls of their feet so as little weight as possible would be on the ground. This helped them move faster and more silently while they hunted. Well, now I was the hunter and letting my prey escape me was not an option. A light was coming from underneath the bathroom door, it was him, I knew it was. I could smell his after shave in the air. This was going to be his last night torturing my family. I wasn’t gonna give him any time to see me coming. As soon as he opens the bathroom door, he’s going to meet my little friend.
Sasha
I heard Junior slip into the hallway. I couldn’t figure out why he would want to go looking for Jamal. Mom and him were obviously not fighting so why would he want to make the beating start?
I jumped up when I heard a scream coming from the hallway. I was so used to hearing this sound over the past few months, but I this time, I don’t why, but it was any different. Maybe because it was a higher pitch than normal, maybe because I heard Junior yell too, or maybe because the screams weren’t accompanied by Jamal’s deep yelling voice. I was still afraid to come out of my room, so I just laid there with tears running down my face. I could feel a warm trickle streaming down my leg transforming into a cold pool on my bed. I can’t believe this is happening again. Why couldn’t the last time be enough?
Marsha
My first thought was that Jamal had come to finish me off. I didn’t really have much time to think about what was happening, all I felt was the coldness of steel striking my flesh. As I fell to the ground, I heard Junior cry out. I couldn’t make out his words; my only focus was the warm liquid that eased through my fingers.
Nevaeh
I knew something was wrong the moment that I heard Junior scream out, “Never again Jamal!” He had to have done something to Jamal because I heard my mom scream but Jamal didn’t make a sound. I rushed towards the commotion. It was hard to see anything, only the bathroom light was on. I felt it before I saw it. The blood dampened my naked foot as I ran to my mother who was lying motionless on the ground wrapped in a towel with blood seeping out of her side.
“What did you?” I screamed at Junior. He just stood there with a stupid look on his face frozen. “Don’t just stand there go call nine-one-one!” Still he stood motionless in his thoughts, paralyzed by his guilt. I made the call myself. I don’t even know why I bothered, most EMT’s are afraid to even come around this neighborhood.
We waited for the ambulance for ten minutes. Actually, we waited for Sasha to get cleaned up while I put clothes on my mom and had Junior help me carry her to the car. I wanted to catch a bus to the hospital; her car was so old and dirty that I didn’t want her to get an infection from touching the seats. Ultimately, I didn’t have enough money for all four of us to get on the bus so the car was the only option. Sasha sat in the back seat crying while putting pressure on the wound as my mom’s blood and tears soaked through her clothes. Junior got in the front seat with me and we took off.
As we drove to Temple Hospital, we discussed the story that we were going to tell the police. I say we, but it was really just me talking out loud. My mom was silent, attempting to minimize her breaths to lessen the pain, Junior was dazed starring straight forward appearing to ignore my every word, and Sasha was still howling. It didn’t matter, I was going to be the one doing all of the talking anyway. I just needed to make a decision. Our options were a home invasion, a mugging outside of the house, or Jamal. Though I loved the idea of that man behind bars, I couldn’t pin an attempted murder charge on him. We agreed on a mugging. It wasn’t uncommon and since there were no witnesses the cops wouldn’t look too far into the story. There was enough blood outside to say that she was attacked and made it into the house afterwards and collapsed. The mugger ran away when our lights came on and he got away with all of her tips from the night. I can’t believe this, who would’ve thought that after all of the beatings that my mom got from Jamal, the first man that would send her to the hospital would be her son? Ain’t that a bitch?