𝖛 𝖎 𝖔 𝖑 𝖆

Fifteen

I crawled out of bed to get a closer look at what seemed to be a piece of jewelry. I can't be mine, I keep all my accessories in a red, velvet box in the back of the closet. And it can't be Miles' jewelry, since he doesn't really wear any. Once I picked it up, I found it to be a gold watch. I was completely confused as to how a gold watch appeared on my dresser out of the blue. Who could have possibly own this type of watch? Oddly, it looks a bit familiar. Like I've seen someone wear it before. But, the only person I've seen wear something similar to this was:

Donald.

It can't be his watch, he'd never leave a piece of jewelry, or anything of his at my house when we were messing around. In fact, he never took off his watches while we were having sex. I specifically remember getting turned on by that for some reason. So how? Whatever reason why it's here, I feel that it's right for me to return it to him.

The old me would have pawned this shit and moved on with my life. Fortunately, I've changed. Donald worked too hard for his money for me to just pawn his watch. I decided to give it back after I take a nap. I'm too damn tired to be driving right now.

Donald

"I'm coming, I'm coming. Damn." I groaned, rolling myself off the couch. I took my gun from on top of my television, and prepared for the worst. As I twisted the door knob, I clicked the gun off safety and pointed it towards the person at the door. They put their hands up, and yelled, "don't shoot!". I froze, because I've heard that voice before. Why, out of all people, is she here?

"Viola? What the hell are you doing at my house?" I rudely asked.

"I came to return something of yours. But fuck that, what happened to you?" Her eyes filled with concern as she looked at the now dried wound on my forehead. She's really asking what happened, as if she didn't know. What is this, some sick joke?

"Miss me with that bullshit, you know exactly what the fuck happened!" I shouted at her a bit too loud, to the point where she jumped in terror.

"I don't. Why are you yelling at me for? I'm just concerned, because you look hurt badly." Viola stated, but she whimpered a bit in her sentence.

"Oh, now I look hurt to you? Wow, okay. How are you gonna pretend that you didn't send your man over here with his niggas to fuck me up and rob me?" I yelled. Viola seemed shocked to say the least. She should become an actress, because this act she's putting on almost got me believing that she doesn't know.

"What are you talking about? I never sent Miles, or anyone to do anything to you." Viola raised her eyebrow.

I began to get angry, to the point where I want to throw something at her. Something like a chair, maybe even the sofa. When I get angry, you best believe that I get violent with anyone around me. Viola better thank the lord that she's pregnant, or else I would have body slammed her and threw her out my house by now.

"Yes the fuck you did, bitch!" I shouted, this time, grabbing Viola by her shoulders and shaking her violently. I might have accidentally dug my fingers into her skin. She quickly yelped in pain and shut her eyes.

"I didn't, I promise! Let me go, please!" Viola pleaded with tears escaping from her eyes. I got so blinded with rage, that I'm shaking a pregnant woman while she begs me to stop. What have I become? Who have I become? My father?

"Give me my shit, and get the fuck out my house! You damn whore!" I yelled while snatching the bag with my watch in it from her hand. I could tell that I shattered her self-esteem. Without saying anything else, Viola silently left my house, and drove away in her car.