Reformed

Appointment

"Beyonce, baby. Go to your room." She wasn't even looking at me, her eyes were still closed.

"But Mo—" I looked up at my "dad", "I gotta protect you." The tears couldn't stop, the sight of my mom was depressing. I had to get us out of here.

"Protect her how Giselle? You think 'cause yo' balls done dropped you can put up a fight against me? Huh?"

No, "I can try."

"You can try." He mocked my voice.

I nodded. I was saying the right words but my confidence was no where near here. My head was faced down, staring up at my Mom.

I felt his hand brush up against my bruised temple.

"You want more of these?"

I looked up at him, "I ain't scared of you."

I stepped back, finally looking at him. Deep in his soulless eyes.

He looked at me with a raised eyebrow. Then looked back down at Momma.

"You see yo' child? Wanna be all big and bad."

"Beyonce, baby please leave up out of here."

I wasn't hearing her though, "Momma no. I need to teach this man."

"Ain't no child of mines 'bout to teach me. Especially not no eleven year old."

"I'm thirteen."

"Ooh.. thirteen. Get the fuck up out of here Giselle."

My fists balled absentmindedly and without a second thought my fist connected to his middle section.

"F—fuck! You damn bastard."

I was lifted up high from my feet and my body was met with the hard carpeted floor within seconds.

Screams from my mom filled my ear.

"Woman shut up!"

Blood gush from the open scar on my forehead and it felt like hammers were getting drummed on it.

Matthew laid down beside me, "You still tough?"

I spat in his face, regretting it as soon as the saliva touched his eye.

I was picked up again but this time my back hit the wall and my body went limp.

My vision was going in and out. And the blood wouldn't stop coming even though I didn't feel any more bruises.

I was willing to stand back up and fight this man. Momma was getting her justice one way or another.

"Giselle!"

Was the last thing I heard before a busted up boot connected to my jaw.

Present Beyonce
Same day

Mr. Grays handed me a soft tissue and I accepted it.

Not even realizing I had those warm salty droplets coming down my face.

"Thanks." I wiped my eyes, "It was something.. some days were harder than others though."

"Any regrets you have?"

"My only regret was not having a gun on standby. I wanted that man dead, parts of me still do."

"So you haven't completely forgave your father?"

I scoffed, "How could I?"

"You can forgive a person and still not like them. Forgiving someone reveals that, that person no longer has control over you. I feel that your dad has somewhat kind of control over you."

"That man ain't got shit over me."

"You won't admit it because you're blind to the fact. He doesn't have control over you? Hm. How come your doing the same thing he did to your mother? The woman who had your heart first. You do love your mom right?"

"More than myself."

"Ok so why?"

I looked away from his gaze, "Like hell I know. It's just I envision Onika as that man and just start hitting."

He hummed.

"I wrote down some words.. that may be your trigger. So i'm going to name them just to see how you react."

I stiffly nodded.

"Psycho."

No reaction.

"Insane."

Eh.

"Crazy."

Oh.

I nodded stiffly, "Something is happening."

He looked at me with slanted eyes and watched my every move.

I rushed from out the room or he was going to be the next person behind my fist.

Crazy? I would've never thought. But made sense. My dad called me a crazy ass kid every time I didn't meet his expectations.

Like masking the fact that I get beat on. Or like the fact that my mental is in the dirt from all the dirt he done did.

I liked to believe maybe my dad was troubled when growing up. That's was his reasons for his punches and kicks. He loved us, but didn't know how to express it. But I didn't hold that over him and forgive his wrongfulness.

I didn't blame my grandparents for his sickening ways. I fully blamed him. He was old enough to know whatever he had went through, wasn't going to change by beating his wife and kids.

But I guess that makes me a hypocrite. I'm exactly like that crazy man.