Where Did the Love Go

by Elbie Dee

  Luckily, she did. I waited for her to run to meet me at her vehicle before standing straight up. She pressed the button for the trunk to open before unlocking the doors with her key fob. Once I heard the locks click, I strode to the passenger’s side and hopped in.

  As she loaded the trunk with two shopping bags, I leaned back on the seat and closed my eyes toward the ceiling. With my eyes remaining shut, I reached to the right and grabbed the seatbelt. Right after Neakah opened the driver’s side door, I fastened the belt to the buckle.

  “Bayleigh, you don’t look too good,” she expressed, after she took her seat and began fastening her seatbelt.

  “I don’t feel good,” I admitted.

  I lifted my right hand to my forehead and wiped a bead of sweat from it. Knots were forming in my stomach which caused me to feel nauseous. Waves of cold chills covered my spine and caused goosebumps to form on my arms. Once the car was started and air blew from the vents, I inhaled and exhaled… trying to take in all of the cold air I could.

  “You’re probably withdrawing,” Neakah said under her breath as she backed her car out of the spot.

  “Probably stress,” I replied in denial. “I felt fine before Chris showed up.”

  “I’m just saying Bayleigh. We’ll get you home and in the bed,” she stated.

  Neakah got to the end of the parking lot to exit and sped out once the coast was clear. Glancing over at her for a millisecond, she wore a look of worry on her face. She hadn’t managed to sit back in the seat and cruise like she normally did. Failing to reduce her speed, I figured she wanted to get me to her place before I felt an urge to vomit.

  It felt like forever to me seeing the state I was in, but after approximately ten minutes, we were pulling into her driveway. Before the car was fully pulled up to the endpoint, she had already disconnected her seatbelt. Once the car came to a stop, she shot out of the driver’s side after grabbing her housekey from the panel on her door.

  With my eyes halfway opened, I watched as she rushed up the stairs of her dark stained deck and unlocked the door. After pushing the front door opened, she ran back to the car and pulled the passenger’s door handle.

  “Come on Bayleigh. Do you need help inside?” she asked.

  I shook my head before slowly moving my shaky hand to disconnect my seatbelt. Neakah heard it click and removed the belt from around my body. Carefully, I sat forward and turned my body to exit before taking my feet from the floorboard.

  Blargh!

  I could no longer hold the nauseous feeling inside of me and puked on top of the concrete driveway. Since Neakah noticed me lean in between my legs and hold my head outside of the car, she knew it was coming and moved out of the way in time.

  I vomited until no more fluids came from my body. After gagging a few times, I felt well enough to get out of the car. Wiggling my way out and past the vomit below me, I managed to hop over without stepping in it. I latched my hand onto the corner of the car door as I got my balance together. Once my body wasn’t as shaky, I began to move toward the front door of the house.

  “I’m sorry Neak,” I apologized.

  “It’s okay. I have a hose,” she replied as she walked beside me.

  Neakah shifted behind me once we approached the stairs. After climbing up five stairs of the deck, we approached the front door and I led the way inside of the house. From the living room, I walked around the partial partition wall which led into the kitchen.

  Holding my balance by running my hand along the marble island as I walked, my hands fell to the side once I was a few steps away from the tan, carpeted hallway. After entering the hallway, the announced message alerted me from the home’s alarm system: front door closed.

  Straight at the end of the quarter of a mile-long hallway, I twisted the crystal Victorian knob on the bedroom door. Once it was open, I walked toward the king-sized bed at the center of the large room. I plopped down and felt instant relief.

  Stretching my body out on the comforter set I made before leaving Neakah’s the last time, I ended in a fetal position in the center of the bed. A few seconds later and she came walking into the room.

  “Do you need water?” she asked.

  After squinting my eyes opened and noticing where she took a stance at the end of the bed, I nodded. Without hesitation, she headed back for the door. I rolled my body over to face the headboard before crawling to the top of the bed. I grabbed the folded flap of the comforter and pulled it back. Once I was able to swing my legs up and settle my legs underneath the covers, I pulled the blanket up after positioning my head on the pillows. Next thing I knew, I was dozing off and was unable to wait for Neakah to come back with water.

  Ocho

  You always gave another chance

  To make it right

  But I didn’t deserve

  ‘Cause I didn’t understand

  I woke up face first on top of a comforter material I wasn’t familiar with as Chris Brown’s song, Open Road, seemed to be coming from a lower level of the place. Keeping my face planted into the covers, I listened as I sang the lyrics of the old song in my head.

  It wasn’t until the song was almost over, and I felt a presence approach me, that I realized where the fuck I was. Fully aware of the person who introduced that song to me, I should have realized upon waking up. After opening my eyes, my assumption was confirmed.

  “Hey Ocho,” Zaiya acknowledged as she stood to the side of her bed, fully nude.

  “What the fuck Zaiya!” I shot up from the bed and felt dizzy immediately after. “What the fuck happened!?”

  “Woah. Back up,” she replied in fear, after she was forced back to the rail in her bedroom, which was the only thing keeping her from falling to the lower level of her place.

  “Then tell me… what the fuck… happened,” I cringed my teeth together and demanded, taking a couple of pauses in between.

  “Please sit down,” she whispered while holding her arms straight at me with opened hands.

  Instead of accommodating to please her wishes, I stepped a foot to the side and rested my calves alongside her bed. With my feet planted on the carpet, I dropped each balled fist that rested on the sides of me. After bringing my hands to my abdomen and intertwining my fingers together, I relaxed my arms, leaving my hands to fall in front of my groin area.

  She watched my every move. Once she realized I was keeping my stance and not about to sit in her presence any longer, she huffed. Staring at each other for a few minutes, she finally got the courage to speak.

  “What I did was wrong… but I miss you so much, Ocho,” she slid from her mouth before tears began to fall from her eyes. Without hysterically crying, she was able to continue with a clear message. “Please give me another chance.”

  “Tuh! Give you another fuckin’ chance?! Especially after all of this shit! You really are a crazy bitch!” I shouted, causing the language in my hands to go from settled, to pouncing my fingers against her nose once I jumped back her way.

  After hovering her hands over her head to protect her face from me, her tears turned into hysterical pleads. “Please back away from me!”

  I managed to work my left hand from her chest area, and up to her neck since it wasn’t being protected by her arms. Squeezing just enough to control her body, I shifted her body to the right and slammed her against the wall.

  “I’m not gonna say it again,” I said in a low tone, after I lifted her up the wall to my eye level. “What the fuck did you do to me?”

  “I-I-I,” she stuttered, causing my anger level to rise higher than I ever experienced.

  “What Zaiya!” I screamed so loud that waves of vibration could be felt at my feet.

  “I gave you a pill in your drink,” she confessed.

  Instantly, I squeezed her neck as hard as I could. As her eyes widened, I felt mine doing the same. The room we were in, and everything surrounding, disappeared from my vision. All I saw was her, and the pain I was causing her to be in. Devilishly, I wished
for her breathing to end in the palm of my hands.

  Once her caramel skin tone turned to a purplish shade, I released my hand from her neck. Her body dropped limp to the floor. She began to gag for breath to try and clear the pressure around her throat. I stood tall in front of her and confirmed she was still alive, before taking off to the lower level of her townhouse.

  I jumped to the floor from the third stair to the last and jetted down the hall to the living room. My phone and key fob were placed on the end table I laid it on upon arriving. Snatching my items from the table, I turned and noticed my half-empty glass sitting on the coffee table.

  Agony took over my soul again, which caused me to want to finish my job with Zaiya. It took willpower for me to brush off the feeling and run out of her front door. Without closing her door back, I ran to my vehicle and quickly hopped inside.

  Once my ignition was running, I skirted from the spot and sped out of the complex. If I wouldn’t have been in a hurry leave, I would have re-entered the home and finished her off. While driving down the dark streets, a sense of relief brushed over me, and I felt proud I controlled myself when I did.

  Being an athletic coach, she could have my license taken away if I were to get drug tested anytime soon. Normally, a fitness instructor with a business of their own rarely got tested… if even at all. The thought of having my credentials taken away and business shut down really got the best of me when Zaiya admitted to what she had done.

  ∞∞∞

  Coming from a single parent home, I swore to myself to never allow my hands on a woman no matter what. My white mother, and black father split when I was seven years old. My father remained in my life, but my mom began a relationship with the angriest white man I ever met.

  My mother started dating the man, Cliff, a year after she moved us to a place of her own. In the small-town, Winnsboro, Louisiana, she made enough at the gas station she worked at to be able to afford a two-bedroom apartment for her and I. A few weeks before my ninth birthday, she brought him home to meet me.

  “Ocho, I’d like for you to meet someone,” she walked into my bedroom and said to me before dinner one night.

  “Okay,” I responded as I laid on my bed flipping through the channels on the television, without directing my eyes her way.

  Honestly, I had a feeling it was another man she wanted me to meet… and I wasn’t sure I was ready for it. Granted, it had been a year and a half since my parents ended their relationship, but I still hoped for them to reconcile. Any time I would go to my dad’s house for the weekend, I’d ask him about it, but he’d never respond.

  “Aren’t you gonna meet us for dinner?” Mom asked me as she kept her stance in my doorway.

  “Sure,” I replied before setting the remote control down beside me.

  I laid flat on my stomach with my head resting underneath my bent arm. After taking both hands to the mattress, I pushed my body up and swung my legs until they were dangling from the bed. Giving myself one more push, I landed on my feet and joined where she stood at my bedroom door.

  “I know this is different, but welcome our guest with an open mind please,” she whispered down to me as she stood at five-foot-seven.

  Once I nodded my head to agree with her, the both of us walked down the short hallway and into the kitchen. Cliff had already taken his spot at the table, but none of the bowls and plates at the center of the table were touched.

  “Hi young man! I’m Cliff,” he greeted once I approached the table, and he stood up before me.

  “I’m Ocho,” I replied after latching onto his big hand for a shake.

  “Let’s eat,” my mother suggested.

  My first impression on him was a good one. After fixing our plates and engaging in conversation, I was glad I welcomed him with an open mind as my mother suggested. He was funny, charming and seemed to be interested in taking me with him in outdoor activities.

  For a while, things were great… even after Cliff moved in with us. Only a month after my mother introduced us, I had to get used to having an additional male role model in my life. My father never questioned me about my mom and Cliff’s relationship, but I’d often leave no detail out when I’d tell him about my week.

  For six months, my father got an earful of what a great man Cliff had been to us. We went on hunting trips, camping trips and went on a vacation to the beach once. I’d tell him about Cliff being better at helping me with my schoolwork since my mom never had the patience for it.

  My father was an open-minded man and listened to everything I said without judgement. He’d often nod his head and listen, or say things like, “that’s good”. One weekend he picked me up, my conversation went from sugar to shit.

  “What’s wrong Ocho?” my father asked after I got into the backseat of his Explorer.

  “Nothing,” I replied while putting on my seatbelt.

  “You can talk to me,” he assured me, but I decided to ignore.

  The whole weekend, I was everything but myself. I remained quiet and in my room at his house most of the time. What I saw at my mom’s house the day before going with my dad changed my view on everything. It made me wonder if I believed a man other than my father could be a good fit for my mom and me.

  Knowing something was wrong with me and I wasn’t ready to speak, my father dodged asking me once more about my sudden change in behavior. With my tenth birthday approaching, he felt I would speak if I felt I needed to. It wasn’t until it was time for him to bring me back to my mom and I felt the need for my voice to be heard.

  “I’m scared to go back there,” I said honestly, when we walked out of his front door and approached the vehicle.

  “Why? What happened Ocho?” he asked in a firm tone.

  Allowing tears to fall from my face, I told him about the abuse I witnessed days prior. After drinking a few beers, Cliff became violent and attacked my mother in front of my eyes. He started by pounding his fists into her face until she had fallen to the floor. Once she was down, he took a pan of beans from the stove and starting beating her with it.

  “Stop!” I yelled and ran over to them both.

  With beans flying everywhere and my mothers body laying on the floor, I managed to slip the pan from his hands. I looked down at her and she was bleeding from every part of her face. When I looked up at Cliff, he gave me the angriest mug I had ever seen on him.

  “Fuck you bitch and your nigger son!” he looked down at my mom and screamed.

  Luckily, the attack that night ended after he stormed out of the kitchen and headed out the door. I was distraught, but I was thankful he had left. Fortunately, my mother wasn’t dead. She was hysterical and promised I would never have to witness that again.

  Well, the next day, Cliff was back and apologetic, so my mom let him back in. Something told me it wasn’t the first, or the last time something of that nature had happened. Only this time, it happened when I was there.

  “What!” my father yelled after I told him everything. “You’re getting the fuck out of there!”

  He opened the back door and motioned for me to get in. Trusting my father, I did as he said. Once he had the ignition started to his Explorer, we made our way toward the Walmart he and my mother always met at to exchange me. After approaching the Walmart parking lot and locating my mothers Toyota, he found a spot nearest to where she was parked.

  “I’m coming with you,” he informed me.

  Confused, I scrunched my eyebrows and stared for a split second before he got out of the car. Since their split, my mother and my father never approached each other face to face. I’d always get out of the vehicle myself and run to the other with their distant supervision.

  “What’s going on Lisa?” my dad asked my mom, after she rolled the window down as we both stood outside of her driver’s side door.

  “What are you talking about?” she acted dumbfounded.

  At that age, I couldn’t believe my mother was lying in front of my face. When she seen a look of confusion com
e from me, followed by my dad asking her where the bruises came from, she broke down. She cried and told him everything. She even admitted that it had been going on for some time, but it was the first time I’d witnessed it.

  “You’re not going back,” my dad stated.

  We never did. Instead, my father assisted with moving us to Miami straight from the parking lot of Walmart. He followed us home since Cliff was at work, and we packed as much as we could in both cars.

  After driving to Miami and staying in a hotel for a week, my mom found a job. My dad went back to Louisiana until it was time for him to bring our furniture. Not sure how, but my dad was able to get all of our belongings from our previous place.

  Karma must be a bitch. My father informed both of us that Cliff had passed away within the two months since we had left. I never asked questions as to what happened because my care for Cliff was deceased… just like he was, and just like Zaiya almost became.

  Chris

  “Not much luck?” Xavior asked after I walked into the place, and he was sitting on his permanent place on the couch.

  “Nah man,” I replied, and headed straight for my bedroom on the other end of the house.

  Immediately, I plopped onto my bed backwards and stared at the off-white ceiling. Resting my hands behind my head, Bayleigh was the only thing I could think of… no matter how much I tried getting her off of my mind.

  The day after Bayleigh and I spoke at the hospital, I decided to try again to convince her to take my offer. By a hair strand, I got to the hospital just in time to watch her and Neakah walking side by side across the parking lot.

  From a distance, I backed into an empty parking spot and waited for them to leave. Since I only had the Camaro for seven months, neither one of the girl’s were aware of what my vehicle looked like. With the windows being tinted, I had a good chance of not getting caught.