Minimal

He assumed that there would be minimal damage. What harm was there in the game he was playing? He wanted her. He had to have her.

She was beautiful. Kind of shy. But, he was attracted to her. Not just her. Others too. But, she would be the one that would be in his bed tonight.

Slowly he hunted her like his prey.

He wined and dined her with minimal thought to how she was falling in love with him. She laughed at his jokes, smiled when he told her she was beautiful and fell captive to his charm. She required minimal things.

She told him that she needed a man that was authentic and transparent. He had to believe and practice honesty in his daily life. His words and actions must be above reproach. He had to be a man that she could trust.

He lied to her about his intentions. No thought or concern to the words that he was using to bring her in. She fell for it. She fell in love.

With a man that was using her for sex. She didn’t know it. She gave her body. Her soul. Her heart and her mind. He was an amazing lover.

He made her feel as though she were the most beautiful and loved woman ever. It was a game. A game of manipulation and seduction. She was of minimal concern. She was dismissed.

He left her alone. Beautiful and broken. She would always remember him. He had left her with HIV because he couldn’t be concerned about how having unprotected sex would affect her. After all, she was of minimal concern to him.

This post is inspired by the Daily Prompt. The word of the day was minimal.

 

Want to keep in touch? You can find me on social media at the following links:  Twitter @mskeeinmd, Facebook page A Thomas Point of View and my Instagram page https://www.instagram.com/mskeeinmd/.

Instinct

My instinct told me that he wasn’t the one for me.

I ignored it.

I was in that place of blissful ignorance and called it love.

Why was I ignoring my instinct?

My instinct told me that he was a liar and an abuser.

I ignored it.

Even after that first punch, my heart protected him.

My instinct told me to run.

The continued physical and emotional abuse had left me broken.

An empty shell.

I was dying inside.

My instinct kept telling me that one day he would kill me.

I ignored it.

Death was better than this.

I loved him.

I just had to be better.

I had to be more of what he wanted.

I had to change.

I woke up this morning and my instinct told me that today was the last day I would be alive.

I ignored it.

I laid next to him.

Watching him sleep silently.

He was beautiful.

I reached under my pillow and grabbed the blade.

I stabbed the hell out of him.

He lay choking in his own blood.

My instinct was wrong.

Today was the day he took his last breath.

 

Today’s post is inspired by the Daily Post. The word was instinct.

Want to keep in touch? You can find me on social media at the following links:  Twitter @mskeeinmd, Facebook page A Thomas Point of View and my Instagram page https://www.instagram.com/mskeeinmd/.

Doubt

I doubt he will ever know the depth of my love for him. I try to tell him. To slowly unveil pieces of my soul like my favorite chocolate, but he doesn’t get it. The wall is slowly beginning to crumble from around my heart.

Each kiss, each touch and each kind word spoken allows me to let him in. To grow with emotional intimacy. To create depth where there was none. To allow honesty to flow from the stream of my lips. To allow faithfulness to be in my actions.

I am not perfect. I doubt he is either.

I just know that where I am and where he is – is where we’re supposed to be.

Together.

Joined in perfect harmony.

Creating a blissful and healthy relationship.

 

This post is inspired by The Daily Prompt. The word was doubt

 

 

Want to keep in touch? You can find me on social media at the following links:  Twitter @mskeeinmd, Facebook page A Thomas Point of View and my Instagram page https://www.instagram.com/mskeeinmd/.

Baby

I smiled as I watched him sleep. He was deep in dream land. Not worrying about the problems of the day. He smiled in his sleep. It was the most beautiful thing.

He was no longer my baby. He was a grown man. Thankful that he had come home for a visit before shipping off with the Navy. I closed his bedroom door.

I was feeling melancholy. Life had gone by so fast and my beautiful brown baby was now a man. Where had time gone? I wished for days of vomit and dirty diapers. Of sleepless nights and doctor’s appointments.

I sat there looking through his baby pictures and smiling. His first night home was one of pure amazement. I stayed up all night fighting sleep just to watch my baby sleep. I needed to make sure he was okay. I refused to rest.

His attempts at nursing were hilarious and painful. He refused to latch on and the pout that he made as he shut his mouth tightly always made me smile. His baby scent was the most beautiful scent I ever smelled.

I flipped the pages of the photo album looking at the first birthday photos, first day of school photos, dances and annual family photo shoots. He was a handsome child. I smiled and closed the book. I felt peace because even though my son was a grown man now sleeping soundly in the next room…he would always be my baby.

 

This post is part of the Daily Post. Today’s word was baby.

Rhythmic

She listened to the rhythmic beating of the steel drums. It was both deep and powerful. She could feel herself moving to the rhythm. She got up to dance.

Back and forth she sashayed her hips in slow motion. The sweat dripping down between her breasts. The music made her feel better. She forgot how good it felt to dance.

To dance away her troubles. She had so much trouble. She needed a reprieve. On this island where no one knew her. She could be free.

Free to breathe. Free to dance.

Each beat of the drum seemed to propel her into a space of pure euphoria. She was dancing away her problems.

The beat was both exotic and tempting.

Michael watched her in slow motion.

He wanted her.

He felt the longing not just in his loins but in his heart.

He could see she was beautiful and fragile. Life had been hard on her. She moved like a skilled dancer. Her hips were hypnotizing him. He needed her.

Approaching slowly from behind Michael pressed his body to her. She moved into him. He smelled her sweet scent. Lilac. He loved that smell.

He rocked with her and swayed to the beat. Nothing but heat between them and sweat rolling down their bodies. They were as one.

He whispered “I know what you’re running from.”

 

 

This post is inspired by the Daily Post. The word was rhythmic

Sound

Excerpt from my story Jacob’s Girl:

The last image I have of my family together occurred when I was nine years old. My mom had just walked in the house from a long day of work.  She was tired and you could see it in her face.  My dad had been drinking.  My ten month old brother and I were playing in the living room.  The sound of the television playing in the background as I made my brother laugh.

My mom came in and sat down on the couch. My dad had a frightening look in his eyes. The next sound I heard was his fist hit her across her face. I screamed. My baby brother fell and started to cry. My mom started fighting back and screaming at me to get my brother! Get the baby and go in your room! I did. I picked up the baby and ran into my bedroom.

My six year old sister was crying and I being the oldest tried to comfort them both. I heard the sound of glass breaking. Blood curdling screams. Cursing and crying. Fists punching, the sounds of pain being inflicted in the name of love. This is what it was right? This was love.

©Tikeetha Thomas

This post is in response to the Daily Post. The word today was sound.

Greatest Expectation

She had the greatest expectation for today. It was her first Valentine’s Day with her new boyfriend. They had been dating for 8 months. She was happy. He was a great guy. It had been years since she felt this happy.

It was love.

She knew that it was only one day. But, one day that was about love. She didn’t expect flowers, diamonds or exotic trips. She just expected that he would show her his love. He hadn’t said he loved her. She’d been expecting to hear those words for the last four months.

That was when she told him that she loved him. It slipped out. She didn’t know how he’d react. He smiled. He kissed her. She was reassured of their connection.

But, she expected today to be the day. The day that he would utter the words she longed to hear. I mean who couldn’t resist saying I love you on Valentine’s Day? She smiled. She knew that he would tell her.

He sent her a beautiful text this morning that read:

Wake up sleeping beauty.

Happy Love Day my darling.

Can’t wait to see you tonight.

She sighed. Tonight would be the night. It would be special. She would hear him tell her. After their romantic date, she would make love to him and he would tell her that he loved her.

Words matter right? She needed to know that he loved her. She needed confirmation of all the time spent that it was real and that they were on the same page. She  was expecting that tonight would be the night of many firsts.

She rolled out of bed to call him. The phone just rang. No answer. “Oh well” she thought. He must be busy. He’ll call later. She got up and got dressed. She still had to go to work.

She took extra care to dress beautifully since she wouldn’t have time after work to change for their date. She slipped on a beautiful red dress and her black pumps. Grabbed her black blazer and smiled. He would think she looked amazing.

She wanted to look amazing for him. She made sure to put her hair up into a loose bun and add minimal make-up. He liked her natural.

She got to the office and was swamped. All her team had called out and she was on overload with paperwork and phone calls. She looked up from the computer and realized it was noon and he hadn’t called her back. She called again.

No answer.

She sent a quick text:

Happy Valentine’s Day baby!

I called twice. Are you okay?

Give me a call at work when you get a chance.

Can’t wait to see you tonight.

The phone rang.

Back to reality.

The day was unbelievably busy. It was a Tuesday. She expected it to be light, but oh was she wrong.

She looked at the clock on her computer. It was 5:00 pm and quitting time. She hadn’t heard back from him at all today. She began to worry. It wasn’t like him to not call. Something must be wrong.

She left work and headed to his house. She called his phone two more times and left messages that she was on her way. She was worried.

Panic set in. He could be dead. Lying on the floor. Trying to have called for help.

She needed to calm down. She didn’t know anything and her heart began to race. She parked across the street from his building and got out of the car.

She started walking swiftly to his building. She saw him get off the elevator and then turn. His back was to her. She walked into the building. She smiled. He wasn’t dead. He was alive.

He turned around and grabbed the hand of the other woman. He didn’t see her. She stopped.

He was looking at this woman as though she were the most beautiful woman in the world to him. They were in love. He kissed her finger. Her ring finger.

She saw that beautiful diamond. Shining and bright. This was his love. This is why he couldn’t tell her that he loved her. He loved another.

She didn’t expect this.

 

 

This post is brought to you by the Daily Post. The word was expectation.