Chloe: A girl whose heart was broken and whose faith decreased once her boyfriend started abusing her, leaving her with the question 'What did I do to deserve this?'
Kareem: A boy with an abusive childhood taking it out on Chloe leaving him with the...
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K A R E E M ' S P O V
"HEY POPS, I'VE BEEN THINKING that maybe we could play a game out there 1 v. 1. Jordan's dad plays with him at the rec and... well I thought we could too," I fidgeted with the slightly deflated ball in my hand, Dad slumping on the recliner, a bottle in his hand.
"Pops?"
"Boy, can't you see I'm busy over here! I ain't got no time for that!" he shouts, slamming the bottle on the coffee table as he turned to glare at me with his bloodshot red eyes. Fear gripped me, causing me to back up, only to hit a wall.
"I just thought-"
"Well, you thought wrong! Now don't make me get my belt!" he yelled, causing me to flinch before dropping the ball and running into my closet, not wanting him to see just how much his actions had affected me.
It was that day that showed me I didn't have a dad. I had a monster.
The ball easily went into the hoop, the satisfying swish following the action as I grabbed the now dribbling ball, slamming it against the blacktop.
"Kareem put the ball down! He's arriving in the next few minutes and you're still in your sweaty clothes!" Mami stuck her head out the door, raising her eyebrow as she gestured for me to come inside the house.
Frowning, I pick back up the ball and head into the sparkling house, which was filled with the smell of turkey and Mami's famous homemade tamales. She had been worried about everything from the time I had come back home, from the decorations to the table setting to the gravy. Even her face was set in a frown, lips puckered as she arranged and rearranged everything before pulling me in to move stuff alone with her.
The pit in my stomach grew as I entered my messy room, clothes discarded all over the place while the ironed dress shirt lay on my unmade bed. I didn't want him to be here in our home, eating our food. I didn't want to see the wretched face I'd learned to fear all throughout my childhood. And yet, he was coming here. And in a few minutes he would be in our home, and eating our food whether I liked it or not. Removing the V-shirt I was wearing and changing into the dress shirt, I stare at myself using the camera on my phone, refixing my braids before throwing the phone back onto my bed.
The doorbell rang and I could hear Mami's footsteps running on top of the wooden floor, the door opening with a creak as a new set of footsteps came in.
"He's here," I whispered, butterflies in my stomach and slight anger rising as I played with my fingers before getting up. I punch the neon orange punching bag I had placed right next to my closet, taking another blow at it, trying to calm down my nerves. This failed however and only made them increase even more.
The next few minutes I spend in my room, punching the bag and tapping my foot before I hear Mami calling for my name. I groan, opening the bedroom door and sticking my head out before leaving the room and walking slowly down the creaky wooden stairs. Voices are heard in the living room and laughter, something I hadn't heard come from Mami in a long time, escapes her lips and fills the house.
