Read spoiled secrets epub format

Authors: Ebony N. Donahue

spoiled secrets

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                Spoiled secrets
Ebony N. Donahue

Looking from the Outside In



              Looking from the outside in, could be dangerous because you’ll never know how my story really ends. 


              You’ll never know how the story unfolds unless, you’ve been told by someone who took the time, to read between the lines and unfolds my tragic story of life.  It’s simple, you’ll never find this person, he’s…or better yet, it’s fictional.  No-one ever looks that close to discover my many ghost.  Although, I beg for my pages to be read, to be discovered and the truths to be uncovered, I’m afraid of giving any one person free reign over the pages I call, my life.


              But, if you’re only looking from the outside in, never taking the time to look within the hard covers of my life, you’ll believe the lie that rains from the sky, of my imaginary, made up, untrue life.


              My covers are bound by the most exquisite leather, trimmed in perfection and gold, begging you to behold the glorious words of my life. My offer falls on deaf ears and eyes that prefer to not see, because they rather look at the beautiful cover of me.  My title is embossed in bold lettering in hopes that you’ll finally be getting it. 


              Getting, that everything that shimmers, isn’t GOLD!





                            I would like to send a big I love you and thanks to my wonderful husband for putting up with all of my crazy antics over the years.  This poor man doesn’t know what he’s walking into after a hard day’s work.  One minute, I’m saying I want to open my own business.  The next, I’m saying I want to be a ninja or some deadly assassin.  I applaud him and love him dearly for not committing me to some asylum because in my own words, I am completely unhinged. 


                            I would like to thank him for being patient with me all those years ago.  When I say this book hits home for me, the issues in this book affects me to my core.  Not a parent, but a family member stole a piece of me that cannot be replaced.  Over time I have found out that forgiveness and GOD, works wonders on not replacing, but rebuilding me into a better version of me. 


                            With that being said, I thank my husband for not freaking out when I would freak out, when he would crawl into bed next to me (flashbacks).  I thank him for not running for the hills in the beginning when I watched him like a hawk around my 2 year old daughter. 


                            I appreciate and I love your understanding of the situation and recognizing the mind frame I was in at that particular time.  I love that with your patience and love, you opened me up to trust. 


                            I would like to send a big; I love you, to my children, Tachea, Little Howard & Lakila.  Thanks for also putting up with my crazy behavior.  You three are so very supportive of all of my ideas and you actually push me to follow through with them.  Thanks for being such wonderful kids.  I expect and demand 100% out of you and sometimes you might fall short of my high expectations, but you’re only human.  I love you all the more for your imperfections. 


                            I want to send a big thank you, to My Aunt Vivian.  I have never met a more steadfast solder in GODS army than you.  I wholeheartedly appreciated all the daily spiritual text.  On my most trying days I would hear my phone chirp, to find the perfect scripture just for me.  Lastly, I would like to shout the biggest thanks to GOD, because without you, I would be nothing.



Chapter One



“Damn, I look good!”  I say to myself.  While looking in the full length mirror a slow smile creeps across my face.  I get a lot of my looks from my mom, I don’t resemble my dad in any way.  My eyes are drop dead gorgeous, they’re green with specks of brown and they hold an exotic slant.  My hair is straight and hangs past my shoulders.  My nose, I got from my mom’s mixed heritage. 


                            I tell you, when you start mixing up the gene pool you don’t know what the end results might be.  My mother’s mother is Cuban and Black.  My mother’s father is Irish and Black.  My father is Grade A one hundred percent Black, African American, Afro American, hell whatever label they have slapped on us these days.  My families’ history is kind of sketchy on my fathers’ side. Whatever bags of tricks my ancestors were playing in, I happen to be the end result. Let me be the first one to say, “Thank you Jesus!” 


                            My lips are full and very kissable.  I’m five foot seven inches of pure hotness.  My body, there is no mistaking; I got this from the Black and Cuban heritage.  My breasts are perfect, perky and just the right size, thirty-six C.  Not too small, not too big.  My waist comes in and my hips spread out.  My ass is round and in a pair of jeans it’s a show stopper.  My skin is the color of honey, I have never been plagued with pimples…


              Enough of boosting my own eagle, I need to head off to school.  I’m a senior at Timber Falls High School.  It’s a majority black school and you can ask anyone there, if they have heard or know of Amber Wallace, they will all say, yes.  I’m a very popular girl.  The boys love me and the girls…I’m going to keep it real, the girls hate me.  I don’t let it stop my show. 


                            The girls that hate on me are just jealous, envious, bitches.  They look at my material goods, my physical appearance and the fact that I have both parents in the home and don’t forget the important fact that I can get
.  They drool at the mouth at the opportunity of being me.  They would love to be me, knowing that they can never be me, causes them to hate on me.  They call me names behind my back, I’ve been called so many bitches that I had to stop counting. 


              I have had one female that was bold enough to disrespect me to my face this year.  I would have let it go because I have other things to worry about than someone calling me names.  Especially, a name that I’ve heard hundreds of times throughout my life.  I would have taken the higher road. I could have plastered a smile on my face and walked away, unfortunately all of my rational thinking flew out the window when Alicia came at me accusing me of sleeping with her man.  The gloves were off, not because of what she said, but of what she did.




              “Amber!  You


              Alicia’s face was in a hateful snarl when she approached my locker.  I stood there with a smirk on my face.  Did she really think by calling me a bitch, I would join her in this little screaming match. 


              “What the fuck were you doing at Jason’s house?”  She yells at me.  I continued to smile as I grab my science book and close my locker door.


              “Doing you a favor, believe me.”  I laugh at my inside joke.  “Alicia, I
need to get to class, I don’t need or want a tardy today?”  I was trying to head off this stupid argument before it even started.  I should have known it wouldn’t be that easy, what in life is? 


              “What the fuck…What the FUCK do you think I want?  I want to know why you were at Jason’s house!  I want to know why he told me that he doesn’t want to be with me anymore!”


              “Alicia, that’s between you and Jason. Those are questions you need to ask him, Not Me!” 


              If she only knew the real reason for the breakup, she would actually be thanking me right now instead of wanting to kick my ass.  I swore that I wouldn’t say a word and if anything, I’m good with secrets.  I would say, I am the best at keeping secrets. 


              “I’m asking you!”  She yelled and pointed her finger in my face.  “Did you fuck him?  Did you fuck my man?”


              “First, you need to get out of my face.  Second, if he was your man and if, you were doing your job right, you wouldn’t have to worry about him with another woman.  Third, I have issues with personal space.  I’m warning you, you need to back up around ten feet.”


              I took in a quick glance of my surroundings and noticed that we were surrounded by students egging Alicia on.  I could feel the atmosphere charging.  I knew that this confrontation was about to head to the next level, I could feel it.  I had my back against the locker with my books in my arms.  I was trying to play it cool, but I knew there was about to be trouble. 


              Alicia glowered at me for a moment, anger played on her face in many forms.  She placed her hands on either side of my head, palms flat, resting on the lockers behind me. 


              My heart started to trip as I blinked nonstop.  I heard the students laughing at me, saying how scared I looked, but I could not comprehend.  I could not totally focus on their words.  I could not focus on Alicia’s words…I caught only snippets.


              “Bitch, I will kill you!”  She said in a low menacing growl. 


              I kept glancing at her hands braced on the side of my head.  I was sweating, my heart was pounding…






              I find myself in bed, trapped under a man.  His hands are braced on the sides of my head, palms down, caging me in. 


              “Don’t scream, don’t say a word.”  He said.  “You’re going to love me.  You’re going to learn to love the feel of me inside of you.” 


              I lay there feeling trapped and helpless.  I mutely scream as silent tears tumble down my face. 


              “Don’t cry my sweet little princess…please, don’t cry.  I love you so much.  If only you knew how much I love you…I’ll show you, don’t worry… I’ll show you, Okay?” 


              The entire time of him talking to me he was slowly, gently, easing his shaft into my tender, young opening.




              I snapped back to the here and now with fierceness in my eyes.  The suddenness of going from shaking and rapid breathing to staring straight into Alicia’s eyes showing no fear, put the fear of GOD in this girl standing in front of me.  I dropped my books. Alicia looked startled, the tables were turning and not in her favor.  She made the mistake of treating me as if I were just another pretty face.  She could not have known that I was a fighter, a survivor. 


              I stalked her with my eyes as if I were a caged lion.  I may have been tamed by another; he may have even forced me to love him in a sick sort of way. A person should never forget that a caged lion might purr and act tame, that does not take away that it is still a wild beast.   It’s vital that you mustn’t forget that it is still a deadly creature. If you
make the mistake of springing the lock of the cage that holds GOD’s mighty beast…let’s say… if you survive the initial attack, you will never make the same mistake twice in your lifetime. 


              Too Alicia’s defense, she did not realize she was playing with such an animal.  Unfortunately, she was about to realize her mistake.  I sprang with all the grace of a predator.  Alicia tried to scramble out of my path, regrettably, I was much quicker.  I was on her in a matter of seconds.  I will not be trapped by someone new. 
I warned her! I told her to back off

She did not listen
! Now, she will suffer the consequences.  I snapped…I did not realize I had so much anger pinned up inside of me.  I came back to reality to the sounds of people screaming…screaming my name. 


              “Stop Amber, get off of her!” 


              Everything played out in slow motion from that moment on.  I looked down at my hands as if they were not mine.  I looked at my blood covered hands as if I were in a trance. 
Where did all of this blood come from? 
I franticly started to rub my face to make sure that she did not slice me.  I wasn’t thinking in the right frame of mind, all the time I spent rubbing my face and checking my clothes I was smearing
my victims’
blood on every inch of me. 


              “You crazy BITCH, get off of her!” 


              Only at that time did I realize I was straddling someone.  Not someone, what lie underneath me was a bloody…broken… Alicia.  This was not a small amount of blood,
there was so much…blood, too much. Oh...My...GOD what have I done? 
I started crying and yelling at the top of my lungs. 


              “Somebody get help! Please help… call 9-1-1!” 


              In between sobs I kept glancing down at the destruction that I had caused.  I realized that I was still straddling Alicia.  I quickly moved off of her.  I sat to the right side of this pile of quivering, beaten, bloody mess and very carefully, very gently, pulled Alicia onto my lap.  I cradled her as if she were a baby. 


              “I’m so sorry. 
Jesus, help me!  I didn’t mean to do this!  Please, where is the help?  Did someone, anyone call 9-1-1?” 


              I could hear the sounds of feet clattering about.  I could barely see Mr. White’s face through my veil of tears.  Mr. White is the current principle of Timber Falls high school. 


              “Amber…Amber what have you done?”  Mr. White said this in an almost hushed voice.  I think he was in shock at what lay before him.


…Mr. White, help her!  I didn’t mean to hurt her this bad.  She…She…” 


              I could not control the tears from flowing.  I became the levy that broke.  There were no repairmen that could fix me.  There were no sandbags to stop the flow of emotions, the flow of tears from escaping me. 
  I have taken all the pressure I could take.  My walls could not withstand the currents of my life. 


              Everything went black.


Demented Love



Love, L-O-V-E, when did our love change? 

When did it manifest from sane to insane?

I thought it was cemented in fatherly hugs and kisses, now it is demented with hugs, kisses and near misses.

What is demented Love?


I love you! I hate you! Don’t touch me! Touch me, please don’t stop.  I’m in heaven! I’m in hell!  I’ll kill you and I’ll kill HER if you ever tell!


Love, L-O-V-E, when did our love change? 

When did it manifest from sane to insane?

I thought it was cemented in fatherly hugs and kisses, now it is demented with hugs, kisses and near misses.

What is demented Love?


Sitting on your lap having tea parties as a small child, you staring at me telling me I’m your number one gal.  Mom standing back smiling at the both of us and turns to me with a silent plea for me to accept the love that should naturally be.


Love, L-O-V-E, when did our love change? 

When did it manifest from sane to insane?

I thought it was cemented in fatherly hugs and kisses, now it is demented with hugs, kisses and near misses.

What is demented Love?


How quick time pass.  I’m growing up pretty fast.  My reflection shows that I have slits, tits and yeah, womanly hips.  I’m only twelve, where did the time go?  I’m becoming a woman now.  I look in the mirror of the reflection of me to reveal the woman I will soon be.  I’m not quite there yet, but as I stare the reflection picks up your hungrily glare.


Love, L-O-V-E, when did our love change? 

When did it manifest from sane to insane?

I thought it was cemented in fatherly hugs and kisses, now it is demented with hugs, kisses and near misses.

What is demented Love?


The arms that used to hug and comfort me, now restrain and beat me!  The hands that used to wipe away my tears and vanquish my fears, now penetrate my young openings and instill fear in my young mind, to the point where I have no choice, but to bottle up my screaming voice.


I now ask YOU, Love, L-O-V-E, when did our love change?


Do I have to answer this, this question, because it’s pretty lame? It’s pretty obvious what the cause is and his name, like mine is…….



Chapter 2




              “No other man will ever give you the pleasure I can.”


              “No!” I responded in a husky voice.


              “If you ever give yourself completely to another man, I’ll kill you.”


              His deep baritone voice vibrated my lips and traveled down to my toes.  He captured my lower lip between his teeth and bit down hard until I made a pained sound.  He loved that he could cause pain and pleasure.  In the back of my mind, I knew this was wrong.  I knew I should not feel for him as I did.  I should be screaming.  I should be screaming and telling everyone that would listen, what he has done to me. 
But…I can’t… I love him.
  He has made sure of that.


              He released my lip slowly, I gasped from the feel of it.  My breathing is heavy from the adrenaline coursing through my veins. 
I’m frightened…I’m horrified…I’m turned on…I hate him…I love him…GOD, WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME!!


              My hands are held above my head captured in one of his, I did not struggle though.  He has taught me not too. 
I want to run…I want to stay…Please don’t touch me…Please don’t stop…
  So many emotions in a matter of seconds, which one do I choose.  He plays me like the master pianist he is; he strokes my humanoid keys of perfection.  He has finely tuned his instrument over the years so each press, each stroke, each demanding strike of my keys brings forth harmonious groans of grandeur.  I cried out notes of pleasure as he drew my breast into his mouth.  He quickly covers my mouth with his hand.


              “Do you want to be punished?” He asked. 


              I could not speak -
so much guilt…so much pleasure
.  I was afraid of what might come out of my mouth if I said anything.  So, I shook my head.  He released his hold on my mouth.


Didn’t I tell you before, NO noise?  You will be punished for your little outburst!
” he snarls in my ear.


              I panicked; I tried to close my legs.  I thought
Iron Grip, Chastity Belt
, maybe if I willed it enough it will be true.  I tried with all of my strength to close myself off too him.  But, he has always been much stronger.  I stopped fighting and opened myself to him.  If I continued on my quest to stop him I will make the punishment much worse.  So, I lay there exposed and shivering, wondering what punishment this sick fuck will come up with this time. 


              I lay there willing myself to show no fear.  He looks down at me with a glint in his eyes.  He looks at me as if I were the doe and he be the hunter. 


              “You defiant little


              He’s mad! Maybe, I should have shown the fear.  Maybe, I’m being too arrogant by facing him.
Fix it Amber…Fix it!


              “What did I do?  I’m sorry…I won’t make any more noise.  Please, please let’s just finish.”


              “Let’s just finish.  I tell you when I’m done, not the other way around.” He says in a hushed chuckle. 


              We watched each other for what seems like forever. I knew it was only seconds that passed, the anticipation of his crazed reaction made it feel much longer though. 
I was terrified
.  He released my hands that were trapped above my head.  Could he be done with me?  I began to move in order to rearrange myself.  He allowed me to close myself to him.  He gracefully slid off the bed, his eyes never loosing contact with mine, not even for a second.  He watched me…No, he stalked me.  He watched every minute movement I made because that’s what a lethal predator does.


              “Are you comfortable?”  He asked. 


              “No, not really.”  I say tartly. 


              He raised his eyebrow as if to say, “
Oh, you want to be a smart ass now?”
He bends down by his clothing.  Still, his eye contact did not waiver.  My stomach twisted, my breathing sped up. 


              I broke eye contact for a quick second.  I wanted to know…no, I had to know what he was retrieving from the floor.  I slowly drag my eyes down his nakedness until I reached his hands.  In the left hand, he held a sock.  In the right hand, he held his belt. 


              “What…what are you doing?”  I say frantically.  I gathered the covers around me as if it were some magical shield. 


              “This is your punishment.”  He said with a smile on his face. 


              He advanced on me like a raging bull.  He moved so fast!  One minute, I was shaking huddled in my cover thinking this sexual escapade was over.  The next minute, my hands are tied together, strapped to my headboard and I’m being gagged with a sock. 


              “You can’t make noise now!  Open for me!” He demands of me. 


              I want to run… but, where too?  I want to tell… but, tell who?  I’m perfect, beautiful,
Amber Wallace
!  I am the daughter of a world renowned heart specialist and the towns prominent Lawyer.  I have everything anyone could
dream of, a big beautiful house, family vacations, the only child.  Heaven forbid, I’m 18 years old, a senior in high school; I am an honor roll student.  I drive a
to school every day.  Who would believe that perfect Amber has it this ruff? 
Nobody, that’s who!


              I have no other choice, I am reduced to do the only thing I could do.  The only thing I’ve been trained to do, since I was 12 years old.  I opened myself to him.  I opened my legs wide so that he could get a good look at my glory.  I could struggle, I could have tried to scream, but why?  I tried the screams and the struggles for almost six months when it first started. Look where it has gotten me.




              Like he said, I will love him and…I do.  It’s a sick love, a demented love, but its love non-the-less.  What’s that saying: “
It’s a thin line between love and hate.”
  I hate him with every morsel of my soul, but no matter how strongly I will myself to hate….a small part of me still loves.  So, I


              “Do you want the rest of your punishment?” 


              Without the use of sound I nod my head.  He lowers his mouth down to my breast and captures my nipple between his teeth.  He bites me hard enough that tears well up and threatened to overflow their banks.  I will
give him the satisfaction of my tears, I tell myself.  He released the pressure and suckles my nipple as if I were his first drink in days.  His hand travels down my body until he finds my opening.


              “You want me?” 


              I did not respond to the question.  Do I want him?  No…Yes…How am I supposed to feel?  I’m supposed to hate him…But, I don’t…not entirely…he is my father.  It’s encoded in our DNA, that all children love their parents. 


              Aren’t all little girls from birth expected to love their daddies? 
Go give your daddy a kiss.  Go give your daddy a hug.  Go sit on daddy’s lap.  You’re daddy’s little girl.  Where is the warning label that list your daddy’s potential flaws?  What could a little girl do if she gets a defective daddy, one that take liberties when there should be none?  Where is the disclaimer for my defective daddy….I had none!  Where was my speech from my mommy, telling me that my daddy was not supposed to touch me there?  Where was the speech that said, the touches are deceptive and you
most definitely
will feel pleasure there? 


Does that make me as sick as him?  Am I as much to blame for these encounters as he is?


              I was brought back from my inner debate by a suddenness of pain.  I knew what he was capable of; I should not have kept him waiting.  He shoved not one, not two, not three, but all four fingers inside of me, to the knuckle joints.  The tears that I desperately tried to hold back could not be held any longer.  After I clearly gave the reaction that he was seeking, he withdrew from my body.  Next, the sock was removed, but I remained bound.  My role tonight is to be the character he has taught me to be…his submissive lover.  


              “Will you answer my questions now or will you continue to make noise?”


              “Yes…No.”  I responded in a choked voice.


              “Yes…No. What are you saying yes too and which question is no, Amber?”  Smiling, he asked his question.


              “Yes, I will answer your questions.  No, I will not make noise.  I will only make noise if you want me too.” 


              “Good Girl!”  He lowered himself on me.  He slowly, gently glided his shaft into my opening.  My legs naturally wound around his waist.


              “Good Girl!  You know what daddy likes. 
You know what daddy wants.
”  He said in a strained voice. 


              “Yesss!”  This was my only response. 


              How could I not, know what he wants?  How could I not, know what he likes?  He beat and choked his likes and dislikes in me the whole six months of my futile fighting and screaming fits. 


              He, like me, knew my likes and dislikes.  He slowly, gently glided his shaft in and out of me.  He rode my body at this slow pace until my breathing sped up.  He knew I was close, so close.  He released his grip on my waist and replaced his hand over my mouth. His pace started to pick up, he was pounding my body relentlessly.  There were no more gentle strokes, the time has passed. 


              “Come for me!”  His voice was crazed and strained. 


              His hand tightened across my mouth.  Just his words made me explode.  My inner muscles clenched him tight inside of me.  He was my prisoner, he was at my mercy.  My scream of release was muffled by his hand over my mouth.  His guttural release followed soon after. 


              Afterwards, I lay here wishing he would hurry and extract himself from my room.  I’m in need of a shower.  It’s essential that I remove his scent from my skin.  As I lay here, with the guilt of this sexcapade riding me strongly, I start to pick myself apart once again.  My body is as treacherous and deceptive as the bastard lying next to me. 
How could I enjoy this

How could my body enjoy this
?  I have come to the conclusion that I am as sick as he is. 




Chapter 3






              “Where am I?”


              “Amber, Amber babe, open your eyes.”


              I slowly open my eyes to reveal a stark white room.  I tried to move, but the sharp pain in my arm advised me against that.  After a few moments to adjust to my surroundings I lifted my arm to find a tube attached to it.  I followed that tube until my eyes caught sight of my mother.  Relief, doesn’t begin to describe the look on her face. 


              Beep, Beep---Beep, Beep----Beep, Beep---Beep, Beep


              My heart is threatening to jump out of my chest.  What the hell is going on?


              “Amber, calm down love.”  Mom said.


              “What’s going on mom?”  Tears started trailing down my face.  I was scarred, disoriented and the last thing that I remember is……




              I was yelling at the top of my lungs by this point.  Hysterical, doesn’t explain my frame of mind at this juncture in time. Whatever machine they had me hooked to confirm it.  The damn thing beeped non-stop and the sounds coming from the machine were loud, which drove me over the edge.


              “Sandra, get the doctor
, now


              I could barely make out my dad’s face through the tears.  I could barely make out his voice through my screams.  I knew my mother would leave me in the room on his command.  I hear her feet shuffling across the floor and the door clicking shut as my dad approach my bed. 


              “Please stop crying babe, it’s alright.  Calm down.”  He said in a soothing voice.  He leans over the bed and with the gentlest of touch started to wipe the tears from my face. 


              “What happened dad?  Why am I in the hospital?”  I managed to ask through the sobs and my uncontrollable hiccups.  His voice was so soothing when he responded. 


              “I went to the school after you were admitted to the hospital.  You have been unconscious for three days, Amber.  The principal stated that Alicia approached you with accusations of sleeping with her boyfriend.”  His voice was deceptively calm, but I knew better.


              The monitors went wild as he finished his last sentence.  I started to respond, I was masterfully silenced as he placed his manicured finger across my lips.


              “Amber, from what your principal has gathered from the other students, Alicia threatened to kill you.  One minute Alicia had you pinned to the locker the next, your both unconscious.”  He took this moment to bend down and kiss my forehead.  He started to run his fingers through my hair.


              “Alicia has a broken jaw, broken nose and she received stitches to close the gash on her lip.  Her parents wanted to file charges against you. 
If, they thought I would stand for that, they were wrong!
threatened you… my baby…she was the instigator.  I have plenty of witnesses to prove that point.  They would never win their case.  I informed them that it is
my right to file charges on their goddamned daughter!
  Food for fucking thought - because they called yesterday to tell me that their daughter was in the wrong. They will not be filing charges.” 


              He said the last sentence calmly, as he look down at me and smile. The ferocity and gently sway of this declaration clearly shows his mental capability at this moment.  The man can go from zero to sixty and vice versa, sixty to zero in a matter of seconds. I must tread lightly.  This man leaning over my bed right now is UNSTABLE!


              “You have been suspended from school for three weeks, Amber, but that’s not important.  I’m sure you can find something to do for three weeks around the house.” He winks at me.


              One minute he was smiling, the next minute the smile was gone.  The fingers that mere minutes ago were gently combing through my hair, has now turned to weapons that are inflicting extreme pain.  He clinched his fist around the roots of my hair.  He bends down so close to my face that I can no longer keep his face in focus.  This is the point where my body should have gone into fight or flight mode.  But, I cannot fight and I can only dream of flight.  I go from just being merely scared to being fossilized in terror of what’s to come. The monitors were going crazy.  My breathing was erratic, little whimpers escape my lips. 


What did I do dad
?  Please stop, you’re hurting me!”  I said in a strained voice.


              “Who the fuck is Jason, Amber?”  He yanks my head to the side by the roots of my hair.


              “Did you give this Jason,
?”  His grip tightens in my hair.  I’m positive that I will have a bald spot where he is tugging and ripping my hair from my scalp. 


              “Never!” I cried silent tears.  “I would never give away what is yours.  He’s just my friend
.”  Maybe if I keep reminding him that he is my father, he would briefly dissociate from this delusion of his, that I was his woman.


              “I told you before Amber, you may date,
you can never give away what is mine.  Do you hear me?”  He yanks my hair with such might, I felt some of my hairs pull from their roots. 


              “I will never…I have never given myself to another man, only you no one else, I swear!”


              “We’ll see!” 


              He holds my neck at an odd angle which brings my face within centimeters of his.  While his right hand held my hair in a death grip by the roots, his left hand finds its way under my hospital gown.  He thrust two fingers inside me.  This was not for pleasure, this was not for pain;
crude method is his way of measuring my womanly innards.  He is no one’s doctor, this is not a tried and deemed true method;
is another of his sick and twisted demeaning acts I am expected to bear.


  His fingers flex inside my vagina as he spreads them wide inside me, to use as a guide to see if there was the tiniest bit of change to my inner walls.  After he is done with his inspection, he slides his fingers out of my opening, he releases his grip on my hair, but he keeps his face close to mine.


              “Every time you leave my home for anything other than school, I will be checking you.  I refuse to let you go to anyone’s bed.  YOU-ARE-MINE!”


              His lips crushed down on mine with such force my teeth cut the inside of my lip.  I tasted my blood in my mouth as he lifted his face, stood straight and started running his fingers through my hair.  Just then, the door opened to reveal the ideal picture of father and daughter.  To everyone entering the room he looked like a concerned parent he has always portrayed himself to be, but I knew better.  This business man, this doting dad, this concerned dad, is really a sexual predator…a sociopath, and I must tread lightly.  I must bide my time because when I graduate this nightmare will be left far behind me.


              I look up to see my father slowly inserting the two fingers that were moments ago inside of my most tender spot, into his mouth.  His eyes are closed as he savors the essence of me from his fingers. The satisfied look upon his face has sealed the deal for me.  As soon as school is over,
I will run… far away…
from this sick man because if I don’t, he will never let me go. 


              I don’t know what made me turn my head, maybe, it was the revulsion at seeing this blatant act of possession from my father that I have never seen before. Maybe, it was as simple as me reaching the end of my rope with this irrational man standing in front of me.  My eyes landed on my mother.  She wore a look of confusion upon her face at my dads’ behavior. 


              One thing is for sure, I cannot worry if she will finally reveal the secret that lies beneath her feet.  All I can do is prepare myself for the weeks to come.  Please GOD, give me the strength to hang on. 




If Weeping Willows Could Really Weep



If Weeping Willows really could weep the picture of this majestic tree would be me.


Oh, if Weeping Willows could really weep, it would weep for me for the past three…..weeks.


Within these weeks I have become… weak.  My beautiful branches that once stood erect and strong have drooped in misery from unwanted attention pressed upon me All – Day - Long.


Unwanted hands, examines my limbs. Unwanted eyes, visualize my braches naked in the upcoming seasons that falls from the skies.  Unwanted touches penetrate my many orifices, to pull away with nectar that is slow to leak from the many wounds that the unwanted hands, unwanted eyes, unwanted touches have afflicted on me.  But, I appear to be, but a lonely tree so; I will continue to stand majestically. 


My tears, my pain, my struggles…I’m no longer sane.  But, you will never see this part of me because my roots run so deep.  They support the weaker parts of me.


Oh, if Weeping Willows could really weep it would be me.  If only you took the time to really see.


My crown of ground sweeping branches is covered in shimmering foliage that upon closer sight, you cringe in fright, of the discovery of why my limbs shimmer so bright.


The millions of tears that I’ve shed have crystallized.  Oh, the secrets that my soul is required to bear, makes me shed tears of shimmering despair.  Does anyone even care?


If Weeping Willows could really weep, it would weep from the knowledge that no one person seems to help …me!


Everyone sees this graceful refined tree and think how beautiful it appears to be.  They never pull back the limbs and examine the person within…sorry… they never pull back the limbs to examine the inner tree, that stands within the confines of the devils lands, unbeknownst to the unknowing man. 


Our roots run deep, if only you took the time to visualize, soon the real picture will crystallize, and you will see that everything isn’t as it appears to be.


If Weeping Willows could really weep it would……

If Weeping Willows could really……

If Weeping Willows……

If Weeping……



No!  Weeping Willows will never truly weep.  That’s just me, for the past three…weeks …or…maybe I’m just…WEAK!


Chapter 4



              I look in the mirror one last time before leaving for school.  I’m not conceded, I would like to think that GOD has given me my looks to compensate for this shitty life I was born into.  I believe if he would have hit me with the ugly stick on top of having a psycho for a father, I would have taken a razor to my wrist a long time ago to end my suffering.  Believe me; I have contemplated suicide numerous times, lately more than usual. If I’m being honest, contemplating is not the correct word I would actually use.  Tried…tried, that’s the word I’m looking for.  I tried to take my own life before, but something deep within me spoke, demanding that I release the razor which shook in my hands on several occasions.


              Maybe, it had something to do with the three week suspension or maybe it has to do with my dad’s lunch time visits to, “check in on me”.  Well, that is the excuse he gives to my mom. 


              It’s disturbingly funny how people look at me as if I have it all. 

They take in my looks, my material goods, and
envy me
.  If they only knew…I’ll trade all of this shit for a little bit of normalcy.  I’ll trade my looks, my clothes and my car for a dad who really loves me, loves me the way a dad is supposed to love his daughter.  I’ll trade it all for a mom who isn’t blinded and consumed by her own problems and work, to know that her child is screaming for help.  I will trade all of this bullshit for those two things.


              But, I can’t trade, I can only be me.  So, I hide behind my looks, my Gucci, my Jag and all my expensive rags.  I pull it on everyday as if it were my body armor.  I hide hoping that someday someone will see the real me, the true me, the scared me and I pray that once they find me, they will disarm me of this heavy suit that I have no other choice, but to carry around.  


              Until that day comes, I will continue to write my pathetic letters to a GOD who appears to not care what happens to me.  I will spill my hurts and my anguished pain in scribbled literal coded poetry of my miserable life. I will vent, I will cry, and I will demand an answer from GOD on why he has forsaken me.  No matter how many letters I write to him in secret they are always unanswered.


              So, I will continue to look in my mirror and boost my own eagle, I will dress in designer labels and ride in luxury.  I will be perfect Amber Wallace until someone finds out that I am Broken Amber Wallace.



              I pull into my usual parking spot at Timber Falls High School, that’s when I spot my girls Keisha & Emily.  Keisha Dixon is shorter than me; I would say 5 feet 2 inches.  She has a round face, pug nose, almond shape eyes and she’s a little plump.  I can’t call her fat, the boys’ call it stacked.  She is always rocking the latest urban gear.  I would describe her as designer hood.  She comes from a good home with both parents, who both have good jobs.  They don’t mind spending the money for Keisha’s hood gear. 


              Keisha is the oldest out of five children.  My nickname for her is Little Momma.  The girl is always cooking, cleaning and making sure her sisters and brothers never go without.  If you asked me to describe her using one word I would say, RESPONSIBLE. 


              There have been plenty of times when Emily and I have asked Keisha to go out with us and she has graciously declines.  Not because she was blowing us off, but because her sisters or one of her brothers needed help with a puzzle or they simply wanted to spend time with her.  I have never once heard Keisha complain about the things that are asked of her.  She is in the most simplest of words, SELFLESS.  I have loved her since the third grade as if she were my sister.


              Emily Stewart, now there’s a looker.  We have been friends since the seventh grade.  Emily has hair that hangs down her back in natural curls.  Emily’s mixed, her mom is white and her dad’s black.  You have a lot of people out there that loves to put labels on a person’s nationality, but I’m not one of those people.  Emily, on the other hand loves labels, labels are her specialty. She wears the most expensive designer labels that other kids our age probably haven’t heard of.  Nothing is more over the top than the label she puts on her nationality. She doesn’t go with the more obvious and call herself black or mixed.  Noooo…hold on to your seats, she calls herself MULATTO.  She reached far back in our history for that little designer label of her nationality.


              Let’s just say, the first time Keisha and I introduced ourselves to Emily it could have went south real quick if it wasn’t for Keisha’s perfect timing and ability to turn uncomfortable situations into jokes.




              “Hey, you’re new here?”  I stated the obvious, to the new girl.


              “Yeah.” That simple answer was not good enough for me.  So, I pushed forward.


              “Well…my name is Amber and this is Keisha.”  I pointed at myself and Keisha with a smile on my face.  I was trying my best to give off the friend vibe.


              “Good to know.”


              Now, this rude chick is really getting on my nerves.  I should kick Keisha in her fucking shins for talking me into introducing myself to this stuck up girl.  I plastered my winning smile on my face, which happens to look a little more strained at this moment.


              “Hey, are you mixed?”  Maybe she is more inclined to answer direct questions.


              “Are you?”


              She actually countered my question with a question of her own. 
Who does that?
  I’ll tell you right now, she won’t be making any friends here if she doesn’t can the attitude. 


Matter of fact
, I personally am not mixed, but my mother is. Hey Keisha, doesn’t it seem as if this conversation is going a little one sided to you?”  Who in the hell does she think she is?  I stare at her and in my mind, I encourage her to BRING- IT- ON!!


              “To answer your question,
NO… I am not mixed
,” She said this with a disgusted expression on her face. “I’m mulatto.” 


              This was said with her chin held high. I actually knew the definition of mulatto, but Keisha on the other hand had no clue what mulatto was.  The expression on her bewildered face confirmed that.  At this point, I knew exactly what kind of snob we were messing with.  For one, she can’t even own up to her nationality.


              ”Listen here you uppity b…,” Keisha interrupted me mid word.


              “What is a mulatto?”


              Before, I let this uppity bitch spew off some bullshit to my best friend on what her definition of a mulatto is; I decided to steal her thunder. I turn to Keisha to explain exactly what this chick is.


              “A MULATTO is
what I said she was in the first place! Drum rolls…queue the drum rolls friend! She issssss MIXED!  One of her parents is black and the other is white.  Way back in the day, offspring of such unions were called mulatto.”  How about that history lesson?


              I turned toward with the biggest smile plastered on my face. 
Now what, how was that explanation, you mixed bitch
!  The smile sporting on my face spoke the words my mouth currently wasn’t.  The tension was broken by Keisha’s cackling laugh. 


              “Damn Amber, study much!!”  The new girl and I turn to look at Keisha and joined in with the laughter.


              “My name is Emily.”  She stuck out her hand and introduced herself for the first time.  “Girl, you must study because a lot of people don’t know what the hell I’m talking about when I tell them my nationality. It’s good to know I’m not going to be the only smart one in this school.”  She said while laughing.


              “Hey!!!” Keisha gave a pointed look at both Emily and me.  “Emily, with you being new and all, would you like to come over to my house after school to hang out with me and Amber?” 


              From that day forward we have been inseparable.




              As I stated before, she’s a looker, she has a body that would put Beyoncé to shame.  Where Keisha loves to rock the latest sneakers, you wouldn’t catch Emily dead in pair of running shoes.  It’s just not her style.   If you asked me to describe Emily in one word I wouldn’t be able to.  I would need at least three words to describe her, OUTSPOKEN OBNOXIOUS BITCH, and I love her to pieces.  She doesn’t take shit from anyone.  Keisha and I are so laid back compared to her.  People can talk about us all day, we’ll let all the insults roll off like oil on water.  If someone even looks at Emily the wrong way, they should prepare themselves for the on-slot of Emily’s verbal assault, they’re well known around these parts. 


              Emily loves the boys and the boys love Emily.  What’s that saying,
Guilty by association
?  Keisha and I should be the poster kids for that little slogan.  We are bitches and sometimes sluts because…let’s just say, Emily has been pretty loose with her cookies.  And, since Emily is so loose with her cookies everyone thinks Keisha and I do the same.  If I’m seen talking to the opposite sex the rumor-mill starts.  We have Emily to thank for the entire name calling.  But, those are words, empty words.  I raise my head, straighten my shoulders and keep it moving.  No matter how much bad press we receive by being Emily’s friend I cannot turn my back on her.  She’s my girl, my sister in way, and I love her and Keisha more than anyone that’s currently in my life.


              These two, I can tell them anything…almost anything.  I tell them as much as I can and I stuff the rest deep inside me.  I’ve know them so long that we can pick up on each other’s ups and downs.  My point is that they can tell when my home life is getting to me.  I tell only bits and pieces of my personal story.  I leave enough blanks so that they can come up with their own perception of what’s going on in the Wallace household.


              What are their views on things?  Well, let’s just say they’re close, but no cigar.  They think my dad is the root of my erratic mood swings. Correct! They believe that my dad is very strict. Correct!

They believe that he is controlling.
That controlling motherfucker
that strict son-of-a-bitch
!  Those are their two most famous sayings when describing my dad.  I must say that they are correct on that front as well.


              Here come my two amigos now, Keisha, with a hop to her step and Emily, this bitch should pay a lawyer to patent her walk.  I can’t begin to describe it to you, it’s not a switch, not even a sway.  The best description would be its sex on two legs.  I’m straight, never in my life have I been interested in twats instead of cocks, but that walk, that walk right there, will make the straightest person take a double take and say


              “Are you glad to be back?”  Keisha asked a little too loud since she hadn’t exactly made it to my car.


              “Hell yes!”  I was a little too excited on the prospect of my first day back to school. “What have I missed?  What’s the latest gossip? Who’s dating who?  You tramps are moving a little slow on telling me the scoop.”  Emily let out a shaky laugh and shook her head at me.


              “Girl calm down, you’re like one of those little annoying yappy dogs…on crack I might add.  What the hell did you think we were meeting you at your car for?”  Keisha starts to laugh at me as well.


              “Whatever, you two can laugh all you want.  Why don’t you try being out of school for three weeks, living in total hell.  You’ll act like a cracked out Chihuahua too.”  I took a moment to take a breath and smooth out my psycho smile as I exhaled.


              “Okay, okay, I’m calm, I’m fly, and I’m worthy.  Now tell me the fucking scoop!”


              “Girrrlllll, I don’t know about all that shit you just listed off.  Calm, fly, worthy…what the hell is wrong with you.  Amber, sometimes I swear you scare me.  Have your parents taken you to a shrink lately because you totally need some one on one time with a doctor.  Preferably, a hot doctor in his twenties with a banging body.”  I couldn’t help it, I had to laugh.  Emily has always been a smart ass.