by Noire
“You gonna have to get used to this shit here, rich girl,” Eric had announced the first day I came to stay.
I had tried to smile and act as if it would be fine with me, but I don’t think he bought the fake smile on my face. He kind of had an attitude that entire day.
“I know it’s not what you’re used to, but I guess it beats being homeless,” Eric had followed up.
I definitely couldn’t bring all of my clothes to his house. My walk-in closets were bigger than his entire place, so I had only taken a few things with me; even what I considered just a few things was still too much for the closet he called an apartment.
After looking around, I had starting thinking that maybe rehab didn’t sound so bad, but there was no way I could ever go groveling back to my parents. I was way too angry at them. The first two weeks at Eric’s house I was fine. I had made myself get used to the cramped quarters and the horrible furniture. I stayed high enough to escape reality and Eric laid the dick down on me enough to satisfy any doubts I had about remaining in a relationship with him. I had not heard from my parents and soon found out that they had even cut my cell phone service off. I thought that was as petty and as low as they could go. It sent the message that they obviously didn’t want to stay in touch with me... . How fucking worried could they be? They knew I didn’t have any money and they didn’t care where I was living or anything. Fuck them!
It was about the third week that I was with Eric that shit started going downhill fast. Eric had been out hustling, or “working” as he referred to it, and I was at home. He had my car so I was stuck. Besides, not being from Norfolk, I was too scared to venture out alone. I had woken up one morning and looked over at the cable box, which like the bed, also sat on the floor. The box read 7:18. I sat up and looked around. I quickly realized that Eric was not in the bed, nor had he ever been the night before. Then I remembered finally falling off to sleep waiting for him and, with no way to contact him or question him about his whereabouts, I wasn’t left with many options.
I got out of the bed and walked into the living room. Eric wasn’t out there either and I had already passed the bathroom door so I knew he wasn’t in there. It was finally clear to me that Eric had not come home. My heart sank as I flopped down on his beat-up sofa. The cracked leather pricked my bare legs and sent a sharp dose of reality through my psyche. Not only wasn’t Eric at home, but he had not left me anything to get me high, which meant I would be dealing with being withdrawal sick in a few hours. I put my head in my hands and began to sob. I was all alone with no money, no parents, and no drugs. This would definitely be a harsh dose of reality for me.
I waited three hours before Eric finally put his key in the door and came into the apartment. I jumped up with a fire burning inside me that I had never felt. I rushed over to him before he could even make it all the way in the apartment and I began slapping and punching him. It felt like I was possessed. I was feeling a crazy adrenaline rush, which had given me a false sense of courage.
“I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!” I screamed over and over again while letting off a barrage of hits.
Eric was shocked and caught off guard. He grabbed my wrists tightly and pushed me off him. His face was drawn into a scowl. I didn’t even care. I kept trying to get at him.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, Megan! You done lost your fucking mind or what?” he barked as he pushed me with enough strength to send me to the floor.
My body felt like it was melting. I felt like I wanted to curl up and die.
“Why didn’t you come home, Eric? How could you leave me all alone with no money, no phone, no shit? After all I have done for you!” I wailed, kicking my feet and flailing my arms like a big baby. I was so used to throwing tantrums like this with my parents, I guess I thought it would work on Eric too.
“What? Don’t be fuckin’ questioning me. Look, I ain’t ya daddy! I ain’t responsible for your every fuckin’ need! Maybe you need to get the fuck up and get a job! If not you need to come up with a plan to get some fuckin’ money!” Eric screamed at me harshly.
My heart was breaking and it hammered painfully against my sternum. His words stung. After all I had done for him. All of the tons of money, the crazy high-priced gifts, the royal treatment he received during those expensive nights at hotels, and he had the nerve to turn around and tell me I needed to get a job. I was floored. I guess since I didn’t have the money to splurge on lavish things for him anymore, Eric had grown tired of me just that fast. But he was all I had right now.
“Eric, please. I love you,” I pleaded, quickly changing my tone and my mood. I wanted to make up with him. I hated fighting with him. Besides, I needed him right now.
“You don’t love me, Megan. You love what I represent, which is the very opposite of what you were. You wanted to be with me so you could have a little adventure on the hood side. You wanted some bad boy dick, so don’t think you can convince me that you love a niggah. You are a selfish little spoiled rich girl.... Oops, I mean, you were a rich girl. I guess your parents showed you ... huh?” Eric said cruelly. Then he walked into the bedroom and slammed the door.
He had left me on the couch looking stupid. I broke down again. I was distraught by his actions and his words. Maybe he was right. Maybe all I loved was his bad boy image. I started feeling overwhelmingly anxious. I couldn’t let Eric slip away from me. I needed to show him that what he had with me was still perfect even if we didn’t have a lot of money. At that point, I would’ve done anything to please him. Anything to get more money to make him happy.... Money was what made him happy and what would keep him with me.
5
My Desperation
Things with Eric just got worse with each passing day. He was verbally abusive and borderline physically abusive. He had already left bruises on my arms from grabbing me when he was frustrated with me a few times. He was not the same guy I had fallen for, that was for sure. Every day he took a new opportunity to tell me how worthless I was to him since I didn’t have any money. The one thing he didn’t fail to do was keep me high. I actually waited each day for Eric to bring me my fix like a dog waits for his master to feed him. Eric knew how to exercise control over me, but I could tell he was growing tired of me not having money or gifts to offer him. He would flip-flop between treating me like shit and treating me nice, usually for sex.
But as with everything, all good things eventually come to an end.
I was roused from my doped up sleep one morning by noise and voices coming from the living room. The apartment was so damn small there was no hiding the sounds. I lifted up my head to listen. At first, I thought Eric was on the phone with someone because I definitely recognized his deep baritone, but after listening for a few minutes, I could tell he was not alone. I sat up on the mattress and listened carefully.
“What the fuck is this niggah doing?” I whispered under my breath as I flicked off the covers and searched around for something to put on. I threw on some of my old Juicy sweat pants and one of Eric’s T-shirts. As I rushed to get dressed, I clearly deciphered the sounds coming from the living room. It was that motherfucker Eric speaking to a female in the living room. He had actually had the elephant balls to bring a bitch to the apartment where I now lived with him. I was instantly sick of Eric’s blatant disrespect.
I stormed out of the bedroom and rushed into the living room to find Eric and the bitch cuddled up on the couch. I rushed over to them and Eric didn’t even flinch. He was sipping on a Bud and his eyes were lazy like he was high off his usual weed/cocaine mix. The girl looked like she was high too. She wore a lazy grin as well. She smiled at me like she knew me.
“W’sup, fiend? You up early. I didn’t think I would see you until this afternoon,” Eric said snidely, smiling at me too. I immediately felt like shit. He had referred to me as “fiend.” I guess that is exactly what he thought of me now too.
“Ashley, this is Megan... . Megan ... Ashley.” Eric introduced us like it was nothing.
He acted like I was his sister or just his home girl. I stood in jaw-dropping shock at Eric’s brash audacity.
“Hi, Megan ... I’ve heard a lot about you,” Ashley said, then she busted out laughing and so did Eric. What the fuck is so funny! I screamed inside my head. I couldn’t even speak. I looked at the girl and instantly felt like a piece of trash. She reminded me of how I used to look—beautiful, with everything seemingly flawless. Everything she wore was evidently expensive. She glistened with diamond jewelry and I saw her Gucci bag thrown on the coffee table. Ashley was very pretty in the face. She had what Eric liked to refer to as an “exotic look.” Ashley had a caramel complexion, a very short, neat tapered hair cut, and from what I could see of her cleavage, she had a flawless body. Her nails were freshly manicured, eyebrows arched perfectly, and I could tell she had veneers on her teeth and thought maybe she had had a nose job. Eric had gone and found him somebody else to trick on his ass. It was clear to me that Ashley had money, which I knew she damn sure wasn’t getting from Eric’s leeching ass.
“Why she standing there like she saw a ghost?” Ashley said in a giggly, valley girl voice. Eric sure knew how to pick us. I could actually feel my blood boiling in my veins and suddenly I was spurned into action. It was like some unknown force was pushing me forward and controlling my every move.
“Eric, what the fuck are you doing? You bringing bitches home to our house now? Arggghhh!” I screamed, lunging straight for him.
Eric dropped his Bud, sending it to the floor with a crash. Ashley let out a scream and jumped up. I started scratching and slapping Eric in his face. He couldn’t get to my hands because they were moving too fast. I could feel that I had drawn blood with my nails across his face.
“Owww, you bitch!” Eric barked.
“Oh, this bitch is crazy!” I heard Ashley say, then she jumped on me. She punched me in the back of my head to get me off Eric. I turned my attention toward her, but not before she yanked my long hair and wound it up in her hand.
Ashley didn’t have any hair for me to grab, so I had to rely on fighting skills. I had never had a catfight before, but Ashley clearly had. She was getting the best of me. She punched me dead in my nose and I felt the hot blood trickle out of my nostril and down my lips.
“Get off me, you bitch!” I wailed. Ashley punched me again. I was flailing my arms wildly but I wasn’t hitting her at all. She hit me again with enough force to cause me to see little stars behind my eyes. “Aggh!” I screeched, and I continued to struggle to fight her. I finally got in a good swipe at her face, which caused her to scream.
“This bitch scratched my flawless face!” Ashley belted out. That caused her to let go of me. “You jealous bitch, you really scratched my face,” Ashley screamed after she touched her face and noticed blood on her hands.
“Yo, Megan! What the fuck is wrong with you, you junky bitch! Get the fuck out of my house!” Eric boomed. He walked over to me. I didn’t know what to expect so I threw my hands up in defense. Eric picked me up and slung me over his shoulder like a rag doll.
“Eric, please!” I screamed. He didn’t say anything. He just started heading for the door. I was kicking and punching him in the back. “Agggh! Let me down! Eric! How could you do this to me? After all I did for you! I gave up my family for you! You motherfucker!” I cried at the top of my lungs.
Eric opened the apartment door and dumped me outside on the ground. I landed hard on my knees and it hurt like hell. Nothing hurt more than what Eric was doing to me.
“Get the fuck from around here before you get yourself fucked up! You ain’t got shit to offer and I’m tired of feeding you and your habits! When you find some fuckin’ money, then maybe I’ll consider taking your junky ass back!” Eric screamed at me.
“Please, Eric, don’t do this!” I cried desperately.
“Get the fuck from around here!” he yelled at me. Then he picked up his foot and kicked me in my ass like I was a dog in the street. I fell flat onto my stomach from his kick.
“Ahhhh!” I cried. I couldn’t even feel the pain of hitting the concrete with a thud. Eric’s actions hurt me more than any physical pain I could’ve felt. I had never experienced a pain in my heart like that. I was completely devastated by his treatment. Eric’s rejection hurt even more than when my parents had cut me off and kicked me out of the house. I couldn’t move. Eric spit on the ground next to me and stalked back to the apartment door and slammed it.
The sound of the door closing sent a cold chill through my entire body. I was desperate now. I had to think of a way to get some money so that I could get Eric back. I was determined that Ashley wasn’t going to have my man. I would make things right like they were when Eric and I had first met.
I stood outside the apartment for almost three hours. Eric and Ashley never emerged. I looked down from the tier into the courtyard on the other side of the complex and noticed a girl sitting on a car talking on her cell phone. I walked over to the courtyard, away from Eric’s apartment building, and approached the teenage girl. I asked the girl if I could make a call on her cell phone. She looked at me like I was crazy at first. My appearance and my request had probably thrown her for a loop. Thinking fast and knowing that in the hood there always had to be something for something, I promised to give the teenage girl one of the many Gucci bags I owned in exchange for just one call. The little girl was hesitant at first. She eyed me suspiciously and I knew she was thinking that I looked like a damn mess and probably didn’t own a Gucci bag.
I told her that I was Eric’s girlfriend and she eased up and let me use her phone. It was a good thing everybody in the hood either knew Eric personally or knew of him. When the girl handed me her phone, my hands were trembling uncontrollably. It was a mixture of nerves and withdrawal setting in. I hurriedly dialed the familiar phone number and just prayed that my father would pick up.
After what Eric had done, I decided I was ready to go back home. I would do anything my parents asked me to do in order to get back home ... even go to their stupid rehab program.
The phone started ringing on the other end. My teeth were chattering as I waited with the phone pressed tightly to my ear. My heartbeat automatically sped up with every ring. I started shifting my weight from one foot to the other. After the third ring with no answer a hot feeling of nausea came over me. My stomach began cramping.
“C’mon, Daddy, pick up,” I mumbled through tears, biting into my bottom lip. I had started to lose my composure all over again.
Reality was setting in fast.
After about the fifth ring my father’s voice mail came on. “Hi, you’ve reached Gavin Rich. I am currently out of the country for three weeks. I will return on the seventeenth. If you leave me a message, I will call you back upon my return. Thank you.”
My heart sank and my shoulders slumped down in defeat. “What is today’s date?” I asked the little girl.
She looked at me with a mean mug and smacked her lips. “Today is the fifteenth,” she grumbled, her mouth curled at the ends. Then she gave me a look like “bitch, give me my phone.” I still had two days to wait for my father to return. There was no way I could survive out on the streets for two days without Eric.
“Can I just make one more call, sweetie? I can make sure you are compensated,” I pleaded with the little girl. She rolled her eyes at me. I knew with my hair sticking up, blood all over my shirt and my eye starting to swell, I probably looked like a crazy person or a crack fiend to the little girl. I was praying she didn’t just snatch her phone and leave me hanging.
“Hurry up. I’m expecting some important text messages to come through,” the little girl snapped, folding her arms across her chest. I didn’t care if she was playing hardball with a nasty attitude, I was just grateful she was allowing me to use her phone. I quickly dialed my mother’s number. It went straight to voice mail. I knew that meant she was probably with my father out of the country.
“Fuck!” I screamed, and the tears started streaming again. I re
ally didn’t have any place to go now. I handed the little girl back her phone and started walking up the street. I didn’t know what I would do next. My mind raced with possible ways to get my hands on some money. That was the only way to please Eric at this point. I finally walked back to the apartment complex. I noticed that my Range was gone. That bastard threw me on the streets but had the nerve to still be driving around in my car. I decided I would sit in front of the apartment door and wait it out. I hoped and prayed that I didn’t have to wait outside all night long. This part of town was no place for me to be standing around alone. But I figured that since I was, I might as well utilize the time to come up with an idea for Eric and me to get our hands on some money.
6
My Master Plan
Eric returned to the apartment early the next morning. I had been sitting outside by the door all night. He had never even given me a key to his place. I was also too stupid to ever request one from him. Over the course of the night, I had gone through several bouts of wracking sobs that would subside and turn into an overwhelming anger. When Eric finally decided to come home and walked up to the door, I had my head down on my knees. I looked up at him with pleading, red-rimmed, swollen eyes.