"I was in love... but so many lies and alibis... our love. Mm... Crazy feelings make me stay in love with you... So in love. I just didn't see the wrong you did... In love. But now that I know I can admit. IT was love that made me a fool. In love..." Missy Elliot x Beyonce
MEANWHILE ... BLACKED OUT IN THE DARKNESS...
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(This is the POV of Jetta Lockhart Carter)
It's DJ. He's doing this shit. I can tell.
Okay, okay-- So they came and got Ma Keesha outta here so she wouldn't be in it. Because as soon as Ma Kee walked outta this panic room behind Bash, I seen the lights flicker, and I looked up at the ceiling— and the lights changed to red. And suddenly they just blacked the fuck out! Shit!
"Fuck!" I whisper, trying to think. I run for the door and pull it! Fuck! It's locked. Hell naw, I'm locked in.
DJ. DJ fucking Carter, that mothafucka done had them lock me in here. I just know it-
"FUCK!" I screech out, mad as fuck! Oh hell naw, heyull naw!
"So you had yo brotha come get cho mama so you could lock me the fuck in this panic room nigga?! I hate choo! You beta let me the fuck out! LET ME OUT!!!" I scream to the top of my lungs! – And I wait – Hell naw, I go to searching around the walls in the darkness, remembering this is where the couch is at, wayment -unh! I bump into this leather sofa and stumble— I bump this lil coffee table. I feel it- I feel all around in the darkness for my surroundings—
"LET ME DA FUCK OUTTA HERE!!!" I scream again as loud as I fucking can when I get frustrated as fucking fuck! DAMMIT!
And I hear nothing but silence echoing back at me, in this pitch-black dark. I can't see – I can't see shit! I start to panic, shit, gotdayumm he caught me slippin'--
"I'm the queen of the fucking Carter! NO PLACE!! Muhh FUCKAS! You let me the fuck up outta here muhhfuckas and I mean it! NOW! Or I swear to God!!! FUCK!" I scream and throw a fucking fit in this fucking darkness when my words—no place, I'm the queen of the Carter— words that usually move fuckin' gang ass mountains mean nothing locked the fuck up in here by myself! Fuck!!
FUCK!Fuck fuck fuck!!!!! I throw another fucking FIT!!!
Shit. Gasping for breath I finally stop swinging. Tired of fightin' the fuckin' air. It's obvious no one can hear me. Or they ignoring me cuz he told them to. Mothafuckas. I find the couch and sit down, trying to think.
"Focus Jetta," I whisper to myself and take a deep breath. And I picture that conniving ass fuckin' DJ fuckin' Carter— fuckin cheatin' ass son-of-a-bitch. Of course that bitch-bastard-dog can hear me, of course he can, because he built this crazy shit. He's just that smart. And I know he can hear me. And see me. Somehow. I know he can. King fucking DJ. My husband...
