Chapter 1

May 1989

I hated Thursday nights. No matter what I did I wasn‘t ever able to convince Aunt Hope to take me along with her to Bingo. She knew I couldn‘t stand her stink-lazy-assdope fiend countrified boyfriend Smoke, but she acted like she didn‘t care and she would leave me with him anyway.

While Aunt Hope was gone I would usually try and keep myself occupied writing in my diary. I had been writing in it since I was six years old. Sometimes when I write in my diary I think of Momma, and then I get real sad. That was the only present under the tree for me in Christmas of 1984. In fact, that was the last thing my Momma gave me. Momma went to the store right after I opened up my gift, and she never came back. After the second day had passed by, and all the Ritz crackers were gone, my stomach was hurting real bad…it felt like an 18 wheeler truck had landed in there and broke down. I started vomiting all over the place. But no food came out— just some bubbly yellowish spit. I remember I was so scared. I thought I was gonna die right then and there.

I crawled out of the living room window and went down the fire escape to Miss Penny‘s house. She never locked her window. I think because she knew I came and ate some of her food once in a while. She never caught me, I was always careful and I would make sure to clean up my mess. But I could tell she knew I was there by the way she would look at me sometimes when we would pass each other in the hallway. She would give me that I-know-you-snuck-in-my-house-but-Iain‘t-gonna-tell-cause-I-fell-sorry-for-you look.

When I got inside of Miss Penny‘s house, I went in the kitchen, took a Twinkie and then I called Aunt Hope. About an hour later she came and got me. Now Aunt Hope wasn‘t really my aunt, she was my Momma‘s best friend, but she always acted like my aunt.

When I was too sad to write, I would start to crochet. I loved to crochet. Aunt Hope taught me how to do it. I used to like to make new things. But we didn‘t have a lot of money, so sometimes I had to take a loose some of the things I had made just so I could make something else. I hated it when I had to do that.

This night…I felt too sad to write, and too mad to crochet. So I decided to turn on the T.V. and started watching Knots Landing—one of my favorite shows. Now, I loved watching how rich white people lived. And I promised myself that one day I was gonna live just like them. I had it all planned out. By the time, I was 16, I was gonna pack up all of my diaries, Ashley— my baby doll, my crochet needle and I was gonna leave tired ass Bushwick and move to Manhattan where all the rich people lived. And I wasn‘t never ever gonna look back. Well, I thought about calling Aunt Hope once in a while—just to see if she heard from my Momma. But that was it.

I always dreamt big. I was gonna live in a tall building, right next to the Empire State Building, with a doorman, a red sports car—maybe a Honda Accord, twenty pairs of high heeled shoes, different panties for every day of the week, and a cute husband—with a lot of money. And he had to have a lot of his own money. I had watched Aunt Hope take care of dope fiend Smoke and I knew I wasn‘t hardly ‗bout to take care of no man.

Smoke always had a house full of company when Aunt Hope would leave the house. And all his friends were dope fiends just like him. The only good thing about them coming over was it would keep Smoke out my face while they were there. He was always ordering me around like he was my father.

This night was a little different…there was a man I had never seen before. He was high-yellow with ringlets of curly brown hair, freckles and green eyes--they were a little darker than mine. He didn‘t look so poor either. I didn‘t know what he was doing hanging out with those dope fiends though. I thought maybe he didn‘t know they were. On second thought, he had to know because they had been in there really cutting up...laughing, coughing and then laughing again. When they did that that always meant they were getting high.

I tried not to pay them no attention and kept on watching Knots Landing--even though it was a repeat. But all of the sudden it got real quiet. No laughing or coughing. Nothing. I thought I heard a little whispering but that was it. I turned down the volume on the T.V. to see if I could hear anything but I didn‘t. So, I tipped-toed all the way to the end of the hallway and peeped through the beads that were hanging from the archway, and I couldn‘t believe my eyes. Smoke was sitting on the couch holding this glass pipe with smoke coming out of it and was tongue kissing Skeet. Bill was taking his hand and was slowly going up and down on the highyellow man‘s dick. Then he stuck his tongue out and started licking the pink part—just like he was licking ice cream. Then the highyellow man pushed Bill‘s head toward his dick and Bill put the whole thing in his mouth. The whole thing. AllI saw was his hair. It wasn‘t pretty and curly like the hair on his head either. The hair that was wrapped around his dick was black and looked nappy.

The horrific scene made a sudden queasiness ripple in my stomach. The dinner that I had eaten earlier was trying to make an exit. I was trying to keep it in but started to gag. I ain‘t mean to make any noise, it just came out. Smoke heard me and he quickly took his tongue out of Skeets‘ mouth, pushed him away and looked at me. I panicked and tried to run, but my eyes had already connected with Smoke‘s and the hate in his bloody red eyes had paralyzed me. Finally, he nodded to Skeet and whispered, ―Oh, shit, Storm.‖ His words were magical because in a quickness they moved both of my feet and I ran as fast as I could right back into my room.

I sat on the radiator staring at the darkness of the alleyway wondering what I should do. Then, footsteps interrupted my thoughts. I started to count each one as they walked pass my bedroom and exited the apartment. Suddenly, I heard Smoke walking then he stopped at my doorway. Everything felt as if it were going in slow motion. My heart started beating so fast. I knew Smoke was gonna spank the living shit out of me for snooping around. Aunt Hope had always told me I was too nosey for my own good and I needed to stay out of grown folks business. Did I listen? No, me and my nosey ass self had to go searching for trouble. And I wasn‘t happy until I saw Smoke and his friends fucking.

All I could think to do was put on layers of clothing, in an attempt to minimize the pain. I grabbed my corduroy pants and put them on, then my Michael Jordan hooded sweatshirt. I looked around my room hoping an escape would miraculously appear. Nothing.

Finally, the door opened and I saw Smoke‘s shadow and I quickly felt his anger. I cleared my thought. ―I‘m… I‘m sorry,‖ I stammered while pushing the dangling strands of hair away from my face. ―I‘m sorry Smoke. I ain‘t mean to be minding your business. I was hungry and I just wanted to go…I mean I was getting-‖

Smoke slowly shut and locked the door. Then he walked over to me, covered my mouth and stared down at me with a curious look. For some reason, I began to feel ashamed…knowing what I had witnessed. I looked away, avoiding eye contact. Aunt Hope, please come home. Aunt Hope wasn‘t expected home for another forty-five minutes, and time didn‘t show any mercy, it continued crawling on broken legs.

―Take off your clothes, Storm,‖ Smoke demanded in a southern drawl.

―Why?‖ I asked wiping away the warm tears off of my cheeks. Then I started backing away from him, using my hands to guide me around the tiny dark room. I hoped I would get lucky and talk him out of it. ―I said I‘m sorry Smoke. I ain‘t gonna tell…I promise you. You got my word, I ain‘t gonna say nothing. Just forget I saw you. Okay? That‘s all. All right, Smoke?‖

In a flash, Smoke reached, grabbed me by my sweatshirt and threw me on my bed. The sounds of the mattress springs echoed off the quiet walls. ―I ain‘t gonna tell your ass again. Take off your fuckin‘ clothes or I‘m gonna take them off foryou.‖

―Don‘t spank me,‖ I pleaded. Suddenly the look in his eyes told me I was about to get more than a spanking. ―Pleeaaaaase, Smoke. No.‖

Smoke started ripping my pants off. I struggled and wiggled to get away from him. But I couldn‘t beat his quickness or strength. He pulled me back toward him. With one hand he covered my mouth, and the other hand he unzipped his pants. Then an awful smell of musk and funk was immediately released. I started to gag. But I had no time to get ill, I had to stop Smoke. I punched him in his back, and dug my nails in his skin. Then with all of my strength I pushed down on his shoulder blades. All of my attempts to free myself from his vicious hold were futile.

Please God stop him. I thought as I moved my head from side-to-side. Please God don’t let him put that thing in me.

―If you promise to be quiet I‘ll let you go. I‘m just gonna show you something. I ain‘t gonna hurt you. Okay? You promise you‘ll be quiet?‖

I nervously shook my head yes.
Smoke moved his stiff member closer to my private. ―Now, I‘m telling you…if you scream, I‘ma put it in. I‘m ‗bout to take my hand off. If you say one fuckin‘ word, I‘m gonna push it in. You ready?‖
―Umm hmm.‖
Smoke lifted his fingers, one by one. Then he lifted his palm off of my lips. I wanted to scream for help. However, the thickness and the heat penetrating from his penis reminded me of his earlier warning. I decided against it.
―Why you doin‘ this to me?‖ I cried. Even at my

young age, I always knew that Smoke was in moral prison, yet I never could have imagined him doing this to me.

Without saying a word, Smoke smacked me. My face was stinging then it became numb. ―Didn‘t I tell you not to open up your mouth? You such a gotdamn actress! You don‘t‘ listen…do you? Huh? That‘s your damn problem…so hardheaded. Now see what you done made me do.‖

I knew I had nothing else to lose. No matter whether I was quiet or not, Smoke was going to rape me. I pleaded with him once more. ―Why? But I‘m a little girl.‖ I reminded him in a whisper.

Smoke ignored me. He grabbed my hands and without warning or pity he furiously rammed himself in my frail body. My entire body was burning in pain. I don‘t know how, but Smoke was enjoying it.

―God, pleeeeeze make him stop! Make him stop!‖ Fear and anger had begun to collide.
―Don‘t you know God don‘t owe you nothin‘, honey,‖ Smoke angrily retorted.

Despite my pleas, God didn‘t intervene. Before Momma had slid into darkness, she would take me to church. I use to love to go because I loved the singing, and I loved seeing everybody so happy. I remember Momma would get so happy she would dance and shout all over the church and talk in a different language. One time I asked her what she was doing and she said that when she did that she was slain in the Spirit and talking to the Lord. Then it occurred to me why God hadn‘t stopped Smoke yet. He couldn‘t hear me. So I started talking like Momma did when she spoke to God. But He didn‘t hear that either because the more I spoke, the harder Smoke pounded on my raw and dry pussy.