Bentong and the Encanto by Irene Riot

Carmela laid her first born son gently into his crib. He has a little bit of a fever. She thought to herself. The baby intercom was turned on so she would be able to hear if Baby Ben started to cry. He had been fussy all day.

Benjamin Thomas. The name passed throughout the generations. Baby Ben’s father was Benjamin Thomas. Benjamin Thomas, the father, was named after his maternal grandfather. Baby Ben’s father was called Bentong as a child. They now call him Thomas.

Carmela didn’t hear her husband’s car pull up the drive way nor did she hear him enter their home. She was busy preparing baby bottles for sterilization. Carmela put her career on hold after she gave birth, a decision agreed upon by both husband and wife.

“Oh, Jesus!” Carmela cried as she saw her husband standing at the entrance of their kitchen. He was smiling shyly, holding…cartons of take out from her favorite Chinese restaurant.  Carmela was career oriented. He knew that from day one. Domestication didn’t suit her at all yet she struggled to tackle the role.

“Let's eat” Thomas said as he arranged the food on the table. Carmela reluctantly sat down at the table with her husband, head bowed in shame. She hadn’t started dinner. Oh, but everything smelled so good! He picked up all her favorites. As hungry as she was, she felt too embarrassed to eat. This domestication thing really sucks. She thought to herself.

 Tension at the table. She’s being hardheaded again. Thomas thought as he offered his wife a piece of sweet and sour pork. Slippery from the sauce, the mischievous morsel escaped from Thomas’ chopsticks and landed in Carmela’s lap.

Laughter. The couple ate, joyously, each one telling the other of their day. More laughter. Everything just tasted better when served with love. Carmela fed herself.

Thomas cleared up after their meal as Carmela tended to their son. After each completed their chores, husband and wife settled in the living room in front of the television. 


“Baby Ben had a little bit of a fever but he’s good now” Carmela informed her husband as she snuggled under his chin. Oh thank God! She’s not in one of her moods again! Thomas thought as he lovingly squeezed his wife.

“I remember, as a child, my parents got into this huge argument. I think they almost separated. My father couldn’t find work at the time while my mother worked all the time for my grandfather. He was a big time attorney” Carmela listened, ignoring the television.

Thomas went on, “Tatay was an accountant at this one big international company in the Philippines. They decided to transfer their factory to China then Tatay lost his job. He was paid really well and couldn’t find anything that could match as much as he earned. Nanay had to go back to work for Lolo”

“Nanay got extremely busy and I guess Tatay got jealous. Lolo offered him a job at his law firm but Tatay was being hard headed at the time” Carmela smiled at that remark. Thomas kissed her head.

“I remember being sick the whole time they were fighting; they quarreled for months. When things got better, I got better” Thomas started to become uneasy.

Silence. “Well?” Carmela eagerly asked, “What happened?” she said, playfully slapping her husband’s chest. Laughter. It felt so good for them to both laugh. “Tell me!” Carmela demanded. More laughter.

“When I was a child…” Thomas started out.

“How old were you?” Carmela childishly inquired.

“5, maybe 8. Definitely less than 10 years old. You know how I was always close to…”

“Who was Tatay working for at the time?”

“It may have been a Japanese firm. If not, Korean. I really can’t remember. Well any way, remember all the stories about my Lolo and the encanto?”

“Oh my God! You were cursed!" Laughter strengthening the bond of love.

“When I was about 5 or 8, definitely less than 10 years old, my parents fought terribly after my father lost his job. Nanay worked for Lolo so basically he supported us. This was a big insult to Tatay. Lolo offered Tatay a job. Being an accountant, Lolo assured him he was desperately needed but Tatay refused. He was too proud.

Tatay couldn’t find anything acceptable. As Tatay lost hope, Nany worked harder. The fighting got worse when Tatay agreed to be a stay at home dad. My older brother, Joseph and my sister, Lourdes were pretty much self sufficient and didn’t really need Tatay’s help much. Me being the youngest, he spent most of the time taking care of me.

Tatay would take me to and from school in our pedicab. Tatay would pedal fast, making the wind blow through my hair as we traveled along the side of the road. People we knew waved and honked at us. Lolo knew a lot of people where we lived so practically everyone knew us. Tatay attended my school meetings but would spend as little time with the other parents. I know he was embarrassed.

I can’t remember the first time I got sick but I remember one night I felt so bad, I walked into my parents’ room without knocking. I could hear their voices from behind the door but I couldn’t really make out what they were saying. I was that sick. I could tell from the tone of their voices they were both mad.

One time when I was less than 5 years old, I accidentally walked in on my parents during an “intimate” moment. From then on, I was instructed to never enter their room without permission. That night, I was so dizzy and nauseated. My fever was running high and I felt really bad. I walked into their room and threw up on their floor. That stopped their fighting.

I slept with them that night. The next day, Nanay and Tatay were lovey-dovey with each other and I felt better. They still fought after that. Each time, I’d get sick, they’d stop fighting and I’d get better. For a while, they thought I was faking everything. Then I got so sick and almost died. I did get better, obviously, but Nanay and Tatay never fought after that.




Tatay was taking me to school. He knew I wasn’t feeling good but he made me go to school anyway. I usually enjoyed our rides to school but this ride was unbearable. There were bumpy parts of the way where I would say “ahhhhh” just to hear my voice vibrate. The bumpy parts made my insides sting and cramp.

The breeze blew stronger the faster Tatay pedaled. I used to enjoy the breeze as it ran through my hair but that time, the breeze made my body chill more and the hair on my skin stood. The honks from friends were like sirens screaming directly in my ear. I got to school and I threw up as soon as I stepped out of the pedicab. Tatay took me home. At least I didn’t get the pedicab dirty.

I may have been sick for a week, maybe? I think longer. I had to go to the hospital. That’s when my encanto friend started to visit me. At the time, I liked it when he came to visit. We would play together, run up and down the halls of the hospital, visit other patients. Strange thing, people could see my body in my hospital bed but couldn’t see me and my friend as we played.

Well, some people could see us. Little babies could see us and those who were extremely ill and confused. My friend never went too close to the babies and the older ones who could see only him died. Not everyone saw me.

Then, my friend took me to his village. I had been there before. Lolo knew where my friend lived so I didn’t mind going. I was bored with the hospital anyway. I played all day in the village of the encanto. They were always nice to me and there was so much to do. Creeks for swimming, fields to explore and trees to climb.

By the end of the day, I wanted to go home. We were about to leave when my Lolo appeared. He called for my friend and signaled for me to wait. I was close but I couldn’t hear what they were saying. I don’t recall any verbal form of communication with the encanto. I never even knew my friends name. We somehow had a way understanding each other.

Lolo and my friend finished their conversation. Lolo smiled then kissed my head before leaving me with the encanto. I wanted to go with Lolo but the encanto wouldn’t let me. Even my friend was encouraging me to stay. He looked sad. The others surrounded me and tried to comfort me.

I was sad. My friend didn’t like seeing me sad. He went away that day and left me with the others. They were nice, not as much fun as my friend but they treated me well. It wasn’t the same without my friend. I was missing my family. I wished they were ok.

I was about to cry when my friend appeared. He was smiling. He took me back to the hospital. Our Lady of Peace Hospital. My parents were in the chapel. My friend and I stood in front of them. They were crying and holding each other. They couldn’t see us. They were telling each other how much they loved each other and apologized to each other over and over. They vowed to never fight like this again.

“Nanay, Tatay, Bentong’s awake!” Joseph burst in to the chapel shouting excitedly. Then I woke up in my hospital room. My friend was gone. I was surrounded by my family, Nanay, Tatay, Joseph and Lourdes. They were all hugging me. Lolo stood in the corner smiling. His arms were crossed in front of him and he looked proud, like he had accomplished something. Lolo was always an authoritative looking figure.

After that, Tatay went to work for Lolo and Nanay went back to school to become a lawyer. She eventually took over Lolo’s practice. The years she went to school were a little hard but they were good times. We were all happy then and Nanay and Tatay never fought again.”

The baby intercom spoke. Thomas and Carmela could hear Baby Ben laughing. Husband and wife went to their son. “There is my big little boy” Thomas said as he lifted his son. Carmela embraced them both. Baby Ben laughed but seemed distracted, as if to be preoccupied with something else.

Bangungungot By Irene Riot

11:47pm. Tess got carried away with her writing again. Though it was almost Saturday, she realized she had to be at work in a few hours and thus needed to get some sleep.

“Heeeethal, Hethal cat…where are you Hethal cat?”

It was a night like no other October night. There were a few stars in the sky. The moon wasn’t hindered too much by the clouds. All in all, a very unspectacular midnight. Green glowing eyes flashed, breaking the darkness.

“Hethal! Come here, kitty! Come here!”

As her eyes acclimated to the dark, she could see a darting form coming towards her. Climbing up the stairs to the deck, Hethal stepped into the light.

Scooping her precious ward into her arms, “Hethal, you silly cat”. Hethal replied with naughty purrs, looking towards the darkness as Tess snuggled its fur. Hethal still wanted to play.

“It’s time to go inside you silly cat. No more, cat. No, no, no more cat”

Stepping inside, Tess had a funny feeling. The doors to her home are not supposed to be open during the midnight hour, nor should she be outside. A spirit might come in. It was a silly superstition, she knew but one she followed anyway.

Exhausted. Tess lay down to sleep. Her mind was still running from all the caffeine. Allowing herself to get lost in her thoughts, she began to drift off to sleep. Darkness settled before her closed eyes along with a numbing sensation that spread throughout her body. Bright lights flashed. It was happening again.

Forcing herself  awake, “I’m not going to let you do this to me again” she said in her thoughts. “I’m busy and I have to be at work early tomorrow. Go away”. Anointing her forehead with the oil, placing the talisman around her neck, Tess went back to sleep.

It happened again. This time it was stronger. Drifting off to sleep, an electric shock ran up her spine and spread throughout her body. Her eyes shut open. Though asleep, she could see her room. She could feel herself float. She felt it at her back. It was trying to communicate with her, again.

“Why does she do this to me?”. Tess thought. These things would happen around special occasions like her mother’s birthday, Christmas. It was the month of October, Tess’ birthday month. “Well Happy Fucking Birthday to me, you stupid bitch. Go away!”

It didn’t. It got stronger. Numbness encompassed her sleeping body, she could feel it caress over her shoulders, down her arms, pressing itself closer against her. Tess knew all she had to do was move and she would break out of this but this time it was different. The harder she struggled, the stronger it got.

Tess was paralyzed now. Asleep yet awake. Eyes closed yet she could see. She could feel it right behind her, its being pressing against her face. Would this demon reveal itself? “Fuck you, stupid monster! Go back to the one who sent you!”

Then came an overwhelming sense of dread, excruciating sadness, a pull. “You fucking can’t take me with you! You can spook me but you have no authority over my soul! Go fucking away already! I have to be at work in a few hours”. Tess always woke up exhausted when these things happened.

Tess then felt a numbness enter her chest and surround her heart, constricting it, limiting its capacity to beat. Her heart compensated by beating faster. Too fast. She felt like her heart would explode. Tess took deep slow breaths, trying to ease her heart. Then the clawed fingers circled her throat, surrounded her neck, tightening.

“Oh hell fucking no!”

Tess forced herself awake and reached for the tassel to her bedside lamp. She was awake in the dark for a split second. For a split second she felt its presence. For a split second, she could feel its glare, its call, its frustration, its desperation. During that split second, Tess was suffocated by the scent of her mother’s favorite perfume.

The lamp was on now. Tess reached for the phone, “Startec longdistance, PLDT, please don’t fail me now!”

011-63-75…

“Hello, Mommie”. Of course she wasn’t talking to her real mother. She had called her sister’s mother in-law. They were quite close. She would run to the spiritista when ever these episodes occurred.

“Oh, Darling”

“Mommie, binangungungot ako! It was my birthday last week…”. Tess rambled hysterically as Mommie remained silent.

“Have you heard what happened to your mother?”

“Mommie, I haven’t spoken to her in years”

“I found out the other day your mother died. I don’t know when or how it happened. Someone in the market mentioned it. I just came from Sister Cecelia. Your mother needs prayers. She is suffering…”

Tess hung up the phone and started to cry.

Dinalaw By Irene Riot

N....I....C....O....L....A....S

"Eeeeeeeewwwwwww!"

"Omigawsh, Marese! you're going to marry Nic!"

"Na-uh! I'm going to marry a guy named Nic but it isn't that Nic"

"Ask how many kids you and Nic are going to have! You guys will have such cute babies!"

The glass circled across the ouigee board, spelling out the answers to their future.

Text ring. "SWEETY, IT'S LIKE REALLY LATE". It was Marese's mother wondering if she needed to take her child home.

Text back, "WE'RE ON OUR WAY NOW. I WILL BE A WHILE BECAUSE MICHALEA'S MOM HAS TO DRIVE EVERYON ELSE HOME FIRST. I'LL TEXT YOU WHEN I AM ON MY WAY". Send.

"I LOVE YOU, MOMMY". Send.

12:30am. Footsteps pound on the porch. Tess could hear the muffled goodbyes from inside. "Gosh, they're so freakin' dramatic," Tess thought to herself.

Marese burst in. "Hey, hey, Momma!" Plopping herself on the couch, kicking off her boots, Marese turned on the TV. Another one of her reality shows. "So, how was your day? Facebooking again? You should go out more."

"Good, no and what I do with my time ain't none of your business"

Mother and daughter smiled at each other. Packing up her laptop, "I'm going to my room. I can't write here".



"Sorry, Mommy. Can we have breakfast together before you go to work tomorrow?"

"Sure. Make sure you take everything to your room later. Please don't fall asleep in the living room with the TV on. Then I can't sleep"

"Okay!"

"Don't use that tone with me!"

"Sorry. Goodnight!"

Sarcastic bitch. She's becoming so much like her mother!

Tess settled herself into bed. Marese retired to her own room as well. Quiet. 1am-ish. It wasn't long before Tess drifted off to sleep.

"Welcome to Progressive! We are so proud you decided to join us! We are so proud! We are so proud! We are so proud of you!"

Tess found herself in the commercial she had seen on TV only this time the Progressive lady was Asian with black hair, China white skin and strawberry red lips. There were rows and rows of "policies” to choose from. It was bright in this dream but things started to darken as she walked down one of the rows.

Ending up in her room, asleep yet Tess was completely aware of her surroundings. Eyes closed yet she could see everything in her room. The jeans she wore the other day, her heels and purses scattered. There was a tapping on her window. Floating towards the window, the blinds opened themselves. There was a man outside. He was smiling.

“Oh, shit!” Tess didn’t have a hard time snapping out of this dream. Applying more oil to her forehead, Tess went back to sleep, clutching her talisman.


“…..and the ouigee board said I was going to marry some guy named Nicolas and were are going to have two kids. Mommy, if I brought a boyfriend home, would you make fun of him?”

“Sure thing, Sweety. I’d laugh in his ugly face and call him stupid”

“Mom! But what if I brought home the perfect guy?”

“Sweety, you could bring home Jesus and tell me he’s going to marry you. He still wouldn’t be good enough. It’s a parent thing.”

“So you guys played ouigee?” The hairs on Tess’ skin stood. No playing ouigee in the house or else the spirit you call will remain.

“We played at Michaela’s house” Marese reasoned out.

Tess was convinced a spirit followed Marese home. “I had this really weird dream but never mind. Are you ready to order?”

“What time to you have to be at the hospital, Mommy?”

“Don’t worry, Sweety. Things are light today. Let me just answer this page”.

“Wendy is a 23 year old female with no prior psychiatric history admitted on a temporary detention order due to acute onset of psychosis. Patient is not able to offer any coherent information but family notice she has been increasingly paranoid, talking to people who are not there. Parents say patient has been using K2 and bath salts” the report read.

Diagnosis: Young, dumb and stupid.

Mouth open, blank stare, Wendy sat in front of Tess. Wendy mumbled incoherently as her gaze was fixed on a spot behind Tess.

“Ok, I’ll tell her” Wendy said.

“Excuse me?”

“He said he is proud of you. He came to visit you last night”

“Who?”

“El Pedeo”

“I’m sorry?”

“Tay-tay, he said to for me to tell you that Tay-tay is proud of you”

Oh! Tatay! Elpidio! It was the American twang that threw Tess off. Elpidio was the name of her grandfather. As a child, she called him Tatay. Tatay meant father. He was her mother’s father.

Ringing the nurse’ station, “Can I have someone come help Wendy to her room?”

“He also said not to worry about your mom. She is fine. She loves you and misses you very much.”

The Tale of Suzy Crackhead: By Irene Riot

16 y/o Caucasian female  

“16 y/o Caucasian female, admitted after threatening to kill herself. Patient made cuts to her wrists requiring sutures. Drug screen positive for THC, opiates, benzodiazepines and amphetamines. Blood alcohol level 102. No previous psychiatric history”

The sullen young blonde sat in front of me as I read her chart. She was a beautiful young teen with pale sky blue eyes and golden blonde hair. Her complexion was a little pale but it suited her. She reminded me of Snow White only the Snow White that sat in front of me was still strung out on the witch’s spiked apple.

“Cool shoes! Are you gonna be my doctor?”

“I’m Dr. Manaois and I am working with Dr. Gerald. How did you end up here, Suzy?” I was in my second year of residency training the first time I met Suzy. I was training to be Psychiatrist. I was doing my rotation in Child psychiatry. I loved working with children. It’s the parents that drained me, enraged me to no end.

Suzy nonchalantly told me her story. The whole thing was no big deal she explained. She and her friend were just “playing” and that she just cut herself “as a joke”.

“Well, I guess we did party a little bit” she laughed when I confronted her about her drug screen.

Suzy was the older of two siblings. Her sister was twelve. They lived with their mother and her current boyfriend of the moment. He was twenty two. Her mother was thirty. They had been together for about two months. Her mother didn’t work but was almost never home. Her father she was told was in jail.

Suzy was still in high school with mediocre grades. She wanted to go to beauty school. “I just love fixing my hair and make-up! I’m a girly girl”

Joe Dealer 

Message 1: “Jeannie, this is Joe. Tell Suzy to call me”

Message 2: “Jeannie, tell Suzy to call me. I know she’s there. Tell her I love her and she needs to come home”

Jeannie, the social worker burst into staffing, “Dr. Manaois, guess who called me twice this morning?” She announced in a sing songy voice. “Joe Dealer. He’s wanting to talk to Suzy but she won’t sign consent for us to talk to him”

Joe Dealer was Suzy’s boyfriend/fiancée/husband. She would interchange the terms depending on how the relationship was going. He was the father of her three kids and provided her with drugs.

They met when she was 15. Joe was 28 back then. He was a friend of her mother’s boyfriend at the time. Suzy was abused and neglected all her life. Joe gave her the only kind of nurturing she knew. Sex and drugs.

“How is Suzy doing on the unit” I asked.

“She slept all day yesterday. She says she not suicidal, not homicidal and not psychotic and wants to go home AMA today. She says she’s done detoxing and she can keep herself safe when she leaves here” the nurse reported.

“She went to my group this morning” the therapist chirped in. “Quiet and sat next to that guy whose wife left him”

“She just came in yesterday. Whatever. She knows the drill”

Leaving against medical advice usually meant no prescriptions and we would not make any follow up appointments. Jeannie always referred Suzy back to Dr. Cecil. She had dropped out of their clinic several times and they always took her back.

“Are you sure this is what you want to do? You know we still want you to stay”. Suzy was quiet but her hair was combed and she was a little more put together.

“Yes. I wanna go home today. I know you always try to help me, you and Dr. Cecil and I wanna thank you both but I have to do this on my own” Suzy went home that day with the guy whose wife left him.

7 Years Later

2:30am in the morning. My pager screams, breaking the silence of my slumber without shame. Dammit! How do you lower the volume on this thing?

“This is Dr. Manaois”

“Dr. Manaois, Suzy Crackhead”

“I want her medically cleared and then I’ll take her. Routine labs, detox protocol including taper”

“You got it”

“22 y/o Caucasian female with a history of Schizophrenia, Bipolar Disorder and Polysubstance abuse admitted after a suicide attempt by overdosing on Xanax and Lortab. Patient has a history of multiple overdose attempts and a history of self mutilating behavior as a teen. Numerous psych admissions. Last admission was in this facility 3 months ago”

My staff knows I will always take Suzy. She’s been here several times. We know each other pretty well. I know the names of all her three kids and she knows my second ex-husband. He is her out patient psychiatrist.

Schizophrenia? Definitely not. Bipolar? Maybe. Probably. Drugs? It always is. She wasn’t her perky self this time. She was disheveled. Her once golden locks now look like something that would clog one’s sink. Her pale sky blue eyes were stormy. Sunken from all the years of abuse.

“I left him, Dr. Manaois. I left him. I had to and I can’t go back. They took my kids. I have nothing. I can’t go to my mother. She’s just as bad as I am. My sister is in college and wants nothing to do with me. She’s clean. I have nothing, Dr. Manaois, nothing. I really want help, for real this time. I can’t go back to Joe. Not this time. Not ever”

She says this all the time but every time she leaves here, he is the one who picks her up.
Everyone does stupid stuff when they’re young but young, dumb and stupid is allowable up until 23 years old. Suzy’s birthday is in a few weeks.

 

Jonathan's Crush by Irene Riot

 Jonathan sat on the bench in front of the grocery store entrance. Inhaling deeply, he allowed the smoke to gently massage his lungs, letting the nicotine slip past the barriers and race throughout his body, calming him.

“Here she comes”

To read more, click on the link below. You can also leave a comment there.

http://goddessofthevolcano-ireneriot.blogspot.ca/2012/05/jonathans-crush.html

The Gift of Prayer By Irene Riot

In the Philippines during the early 90’s. First year of medical school. The start of Tess’ caffeine addictions. Anatomy. Physiology and the career ending Biochemistry. So much to process in seemingly very little time. After downing a few liters of barako coffee, Tess laid down to sleep.

Drifting off, her mind became more awake. A movie was playing, only the picture frames were moving so fast she could barely make out the scenes. She could hear voices. She could make out a few words but they were not in English or Tagalog. Latin? Body numb, almost paralyzed. Her heart was racing and her breathing was labored.

Tess had several of these dreams back then. She hated it when they happened. She always woke up tired. She would always fall asleep in class. Tess sat in the back and had to photo copy her classmates’ notes.

Every now and then she would see a young lady in these dreams. She was a petite Filipina. Fair skin, pretty with a sweet face. She had a mole on her chin. When Tess first started seeing her, the lady was always smiling. Then the lady appeared more frequent and she was with a man. His presence made Tess’ dreams even more uncomfortable.

Tess would see scenes of what may have been part of the young lady’s past. From what Tess could understand, the young lady was the daughter of a well to do family. Her boyfriend was the family driver. She was in love with him, wanted to marry him. Of course the family did not approve.

In one scene, the couple was going out for a drive together. They were driving fast. Their car crashed and they both died. In another scene, Tess was in the restroom with the young lady. She was crying and cut her wrists.

After several weeks of these dreams, Tess was annoyed. It was coming to the point where her studies were being affected. She would study in the early hours of the morning. Now, she was starting to feel a weird presence as she studied. If Tess was failing a class and had to study extra hard, maybe she could ignore the presence.

“Mom, can we go to the herbolario or spiritista? I’m having these weird dreams.” Her mother believed heavily in the supernatural. Tess believed in the supernatural when it was convenient.

Sitting in front of the spiritista’s shrine, covered head to foot in coconut oil, rosary around her neck, the spiritista was communicating with the spirits. Neither Tess or her mother told the spiritista of the dreams.

“You’re being visited by two spirits. A man and a woman. They were boyfriend and girlfriend. They committed suicide together because they weren’t allowed to marry.”

The hairs on Tess’s skin stood. The spiritista smiled triumphantly. She knew she hit the nail on the head with her prediction. “Don’t worry. They don’t want to hurt you. They just need prayer. When you go to bed tonight, dedicate your prayers to them so their souls can rest. What else?” she asked me.

“Will me and my boyfriend get married?”

She just laughed.

Before settling into bed that night, Tess prayed the rosary, “and I dedicate this rosary to the spirits in this house. May they rest in peace.” Turning off the light, not only did Tess feel their presence but she saw their silhouettes. Shocked, she turned the lights back on and left them on this time. She slept very little that night, if at all.

Tess no longer saw the young lady and her boyfriend in her dreams and she no longer felt their presence when she studied. She often wondered about them. One Sunday during mass, Tess remembered them.

“Lord, I hope they’re alright. I hope You forgive them” just as Tess muttered those words, she smelled roses. Tess smiled. There was not a single rose in the whole church.

Miss Juicy Sweat Pants By Irene Riot

“Dr. Manaois, we have a patient who wants to leave AMA when you get here. Just to let you know”

“Thanks. On my way”

“40 y/o Caucasian female admitted for detox. Not suicidal, not homicidal no psychosis. Multiple admissions mainly for detox but first time in this facility. Left rehab about 2 weeks ago and relapsed last night”

She had big blonde hair. Petite with an orange complexion. She was dressed in a crisp white hoodie with matching low rider sweat pants. The word “JUICY” was bedazzled across her butt and her hot pink thong bled right through. Her hoodie was zipped to show just the right amount of cleavage. The tie was removed.

She was very charming, talkative and very engaging. She related how she didn’t need to be here and that she realized she could do this on her own. “I’m supposed to see my grandkids today. My daughter will pick me up”

I encouraged her to stay, she declined. I informed her of the complications of improperly treated withdrawal syndrome to which she replied, “I’ve been sober 2 weeks! C’mon! I only had a few pain pills last night. I’m not detoxing! You’re such a sweetie! And you’re so pretty! You’re too young to be a doctor. You’re not married?”

We were the same age. She was an attractive lady but years of drug use aged her. Deep wrinkles in her forehead, eyes; even her cleavage was wrinkled. She looked way older than 40 but still dressed like she was 17. Her junior sized attire fit her well, though. After our session ended, she thanked me for allowing her discharge. I had nothing to make her stay. “Cute shoes by the way. You totally rock them heels!”she said as she walked out of my office.

“Dr. Manaois, can you come to the dayroom?”

Miss Juicy Sweat Pants was screaming on the phone “You good for nothing little skank! I hate you! You think you’re high and mighty now, you’re just a sorry piece of shit!”

“What happened?”

“That piece of shit daughter of mine won’t pick me up!” She was crying hysterically. “She said I needed to stay and let you help me” she said sarcastically. “I don’t need you guys. This place is a joke! I don’t have a way to get home. I’ll just go home tomorrow”

It turns out, Miss Juicy Sweat Pants was Suzy Crackhead’s mother. Suzy refused to come pick up her mother. Suzy swore she would never return here and this time, she kept her word.

I never saw Suzy again but Miss Juicy Sweat Pants became a frequent flyer. In and out of our facility. Hooking up with guys she met in treatment then returning when they dumped her. I took her back every time.

Over the years, I learned from her that Suzy’s sister was adopted by an aunt. She became a nurse practitioner and is married to a doctor. She never calls.

Suzy never made it to beauty school. Instead, she got her degree in counseling and is now a substance abuse councilor.

Sleeping With the Enemy By Irene Riot

Sleeping With the Enemy

You kiss me so tender. You hold me close like you will never let me go. You whisper your undying love for me. Sinking in your arms, lost in your embrace, it feels like forever, this will be my place.

I hear the pounding of your heart, each beat carries my name. I follow every breath you take, the breeze blows gently to my soul. I feel the heat of your skin, the fires are fueled by your passion.

You are my friend, my lover, my husband. You are everything to me. You are my world, my universe, the air I breathe. I am your wife, your mistress, your ally in battle. Together we represent an unstoppable force.

Our lives are young. The world is at our feet. There are kingdoms to conquer, leaders in need. Together we will fight, together our kingdom will grow. Together, my husband, seeds of victory will be sown.

This is where my story begins. It's hard to believe during this moment I am actually sleeping with the enemy.

"I am the best.." Sleeping With the Enemy Act 2

Together we walk. Side by side in battle. Future rulers. Together, we are an unstoppable force. My Husband, how much I love you. My Husband, I would do anything for you. Lead the way, I will follow. Tell me to jump, I will rise higher than the sky. Your love has been planted deep in my heart, it fills my soul and completes my very being.

My Wife, you are the apple of my eyes. My Wife, because of you, it is me other men despise. I love to hold you in the middle of the night, feel your softness, make you scream and cry. I will touch your body, I will make it respond. I will call and to me your body will come. I love to feel you tremble, I love it when you resist. You moan out loudly, I will quiet you with my kiss.

My Husband, the world is ours to gain. Together we will conquer, everyone will know our names. Your brilliance hardly goes unnoticed, your intelligence will always shine, I cannot believe, My Husband, you are truly mine! 

No need to worry, My Wife. No need to stress. For both of us, I know what is best. You walk on higher ground but my steps are more confident and sure. You are an officer while I, a mere soldier. I fight hard just like the rest but you cannot deny, I am the best.

"I can make it without her..." Sleeping With the Enemy Act 3

My Wife mingles among royalty. That place should be reserved for me. My Wife has beauty, My Wife has grace, that is why I chose her in the first place. She does have talent but not as good as mine. I am one she cannot outshine.

My Husband struggles through the ranks. With all your talent, My Love, why play those pranks? I mingle among the royalty and I hear what they say. When ever I praise you, I receive dismay. Let your talent shine, allow yourself to grow. The royalty have been around, they can teach what you want to know...

My Wife, why do you talk like that? You don't believe in me and constantly try to put me down. You rank higher than me but I am not a clown. I will show everyone that I don't mess around. My voice is strong my steps are sure. You are the only one who finds what I do obscure!

My Husband, I love you with all my heart, body and soul. I am only sharing what I think you should know. In order become royalty you must be able to play their game. You must understand that you must also clear your name. Your reputation proceeds you, they know you are brash but they also respect me as your better half.

Is My Wife trying to say she's better than me? Yes, the royalty respect her but they also must respect me. I fight hard while she puts little effort. Without her does she think my chances will be hurt? I can rise up above, I don't need her advice. I can make it without her, no need to think twice.

"I Love You but I'm not in Love With You" Sleeping With the Enemy Act 4

Why, My Love? Why are you asking me to leave? We made a promise to be together forever, this I cannot believe. Are you sad? What can I do to make you happy? Are you angry? What did I do wrong? Tell me, how can I fix it? Tell me, My Love, tell me now, don't let this linger for long.

My Wife, I love you but I am not in love with you. We are growing apart. Every day I grow stronger but you make me lag behind. Understand, My Wife, I am being kind. There is nothing you can do. Nothing you say will make my mind sway. You need to be out. There is no doubt, even though we are married, we are not meant to be.

My Husband, My Love, please don't say that! I love you, I cannot change how I feel. You are my everything, my life, my soul, my reason for living. My Love, was I not forgiving? Did I blame you for my short comings? If so, I'm sorry. Please, My Love, please, let me stay. Please, My Love, please, don't make me go away.

My Wife, don't make this hard for me. I love you but I am not in love with you. I love you, I love you, I don't want to see you cry. I love you, I love you, we still have to say our good byes. Come lay with me, I will fill you with passion. I will still hold you and show you compassion. No other man will love you the way that I love you. Come lay with me, I will force your body to move. I will press my lips against your skin, I will invoke the pleasure within. I will make you scream, I will make you cry. For now, no sadness no goodbye. Right now, you I will satisfy.

"This still is my place..." Sleeping With the Enemy Act 5

I'm floating in your arms. I land in your bed. I touch you and hold you as if it was our first time to make love. You kiss me so passionately, I can't tell what is real. After those hurtful words, your kisses do heal. Caught up in the moment, lost in the embrace, My Husband, this still is my place.

With the strength of my arms, I carry you away. Ever so softly, I lay you down. I know I just hurt you, I know I just crushed your soul. I cannot bear to see you cry but still we have to say good bye. I will still be here for you, I don't want to see you fall. My Wife, understand, after this we have to end it all.

My Husband, you fill me with passion. I know it comes from the love in your heart. Kiss me, love me, don't ever let me go. Our marriage may soon be over but our love will still grow. Our union will become stronger, this, I know. Kiss me. Love me. Make me scream and moan. Touch me. Hold me. I am yours alone.

My Wife, I will please thee then you must release me. After I make love to you, I will let you go. Lay with me tonight but leave before the sun starts to glow. Touching your body still makes my blood rush. Pressing against your skin. Invading the softness within. I release the anger I have in my soul.

Laying in The Wolf's Den: Sleeping With the Enemy Act 6

Laying in The Wolf's den, I feel safe and secure. Holding me in his arms, I lose myself in his embrace. The tears I cried The Wolf has kissed away. The pain in my heart, The Wolf has chased away. Our marriage will soon be over, at least that's what he says. He says I must go but why is he pulling me back? 

The silhouette of your body breaks the continuity of darkness. I watch your naked body move with every breath you take. The rise and dips of your curves. The smoothness of your skin. It all still stirs my passion within. I hate to see you cry. My Lady, I know without me you will die.

Back to back. My soul is still reaching out to you. Together we lay in the silence surrounding The Wolf's den. Looking out of the window, darkness seems to lighten. The sun is about to come up. Pressing my bare beasts against your back, hoping to weaken your soul. I'm hoping The Wolf won't make me go.

Lady General: Sleeping With the Enemy Act 7

I have been summoned to the royal court. My steps are slow but sure. Confidence echoes with every click of my heels. The Royals summon me to be Lady General in their army. Gladly I accept. This secret will not be kept. I will share my good news with the one I love.

I am now a member of the royal court. I am the leader of my own army. I meet with the other generals. They are older, wiser and all male. Lady General is how I am addressed. The other generals, they put me to the test. I stand my ground. I dig in my heels. I have to show them my skin doesn't easily peel. I have to make my reputation known. I will let them know my skills have grown.

They throw their punches. I stumble but I quickly recover. I may lose a step but I am never off balance. Alliances I make. Success is for me to take. I scratch. I claw. I hit and I kick. I stand and deliver. My training and experience, they do not consider. A child they think I am. Excuse me, but Lady General is who I am.

The Wolf lurks around in the corners. Still a soldier in training, popularity he is now gaining. Responsibility is given to him. Still, I am higher than him. Boldly he walks and gives out orders. Lovingly I look over his shoulders. I stand behind him. I want him to shine, even though his talents aren't as good as mine.

The Wolf: Sleeping With the Enemy Act 8

The Wolf is asked to help rule the land. Together with the generals, My Wolf does stand. My Wolf seems happy, he is still my man. Be careful, My Love, remember your place. These generals I work with will save their face. Be careful, My Love, please listen to me. These generals here aren't what they seem.

My Lady, I can take care of myself. Don't you worry now, it's not good for your health. Those generals you work with all believe in me. Of all people, my talents, I believe you don't see. You're now a general but remember, me you don't rule. I am my own boss and no one's fool. 

My Love, I doubt you not. The generals I work with, I trust not. You are bold and you are brash, with them you might clash. You are brilliant, you are resilient, you are rising fast. Listen to the generals, do as they say. Don't ripple the waters, don't launch an attack. These generals are ruthless, they care not for you. These cold hearted leaders can dispose of you, too.

Once again, My Lady, you put me down. Just because you're higher, you think I'm your clown. This is why we can't be together. Will your belittling go on forever? My Lady, if you truly love me, you would show your support and never challenge me. 

My Love, you are my everything, my heart and my soul. I love you so much, don't you know? I want to make you happy. Tell me how. Whisper in my ear and I will perfom for you now. I will lick you and love you, I will suck you dry. I will make you moan, I will make you cry..

"She ought to know..." Sleeping With the Enemy Act 9

Back in the Wolf's den we start some action. Trying to keep burning the flames of passion. Baby, let me do you tonight. Baby, you know I can do you right. Honey, you know I can ride your tide. Honey, you know, I'll be your baby for longer than tonight.

My soft curves rubbing against his tense skin. Drops of passion form within, quenching his thirst, putting out his fire. All this is aimed at maintaining his desire. No other woman will give you bliss. No, Baby, no other woman will put it down like this. I will lick you and love you right down to your core. Baby, go ahead, scream for more. I am no tease. You I will always please... Love me, Baby...

My Lady, you move with softness and grace. My Lady, I love the way you taste. On the tip of my lips, to the top of my tongue, My Lady, My Baby, I won't stop til I'm done. My Lady, My Baby, you want me, of course. My Lady, My Baby, do you want to use force? Moan, cry, scream for more. My Lady, My Baby, tonight, you are my whore!

The night runs long. Morning comes quickly. Laying in bed, thoughts run in our heads:

Morning is coming. My Lady must go. This won't last long, she ought to know...

Morning is coming. The Wolf is still asleep. I wonder, his heart, can I still keep?

Darkness is lighter. The sun will shine brighter. I will go now, My Love, my heart grows tighter...

The Moon's Story by Irene Riot

The Moon's Story

The lonely moon casts its shadow across the water, creating a beacon of light that shines for me. The stars have yet to come out to play. What is it, Moon? Is there something you have to say? I walk along the shore. It's a beautiful night, the waves are playing with my toes. The moon singles me out. The moon wants to talk to me. Here's how the moon's story goes...
"High in the sky, I shine for all lovers to see. I've heard them pledge their love, I've heard them curse at me. I've heard the passionate cries, I've heard the loving sighs, I even heard promises filled with lies. In your heart, I can hear your pain. Desperately you long to love again.
Be careful where you look. You heart is such an open book. You think you hide your sorrow and pain. Well my child, guess again. This is why I'm talking to you. I want you to have a love that's true. Patiently you must wait, for the one who will be your life long mate. Thieves may come and try to steal your heart away. Allowing this to happen will just lead to dismay.

Wait for the one who has honor in his intention. This one you should give your full attention. Wait for the man who can love you so, the one who can hold you and never let go. The one who can hold your heart in his hands, and never try to drop you because your pain he understands..."

I Answer the Moon (The Moon's Story part 2)

Respectfully, I say to thee, yes, I long for the one who can truly love me. The thieves you talk about hover and behave with so much false clout. Me, they want to know. They sing, they dance, they put on a show. It is all just a fog. Deep inside, I know they are all no better than a... straw dog.
I let myself get distracted. If I'm busy, my heart won't get impacted. I know I would just set myself up for a fall if I insist on doing it all. But Life leaves me very little choices. Alone I go on and satisfy the demanding voices; of the ones who put me in my position, I know I am here of my own decision. Although I live, I have loved and I have lost. The success I have came at great cost.
I am still waiting, I am hoping to find, a heart so true from one who can be so kind. I want a man I can crown as my king for I will be his loving queen. Him I will serve, my love I hope he will deserve. I will bow and revere if his heart is truly sincere. He will be my life, my love my everything. He will be the song my voice will sing. I will place my heart in his hands. All that I ask is by my side, please come stand...
I've made mistakes and I know I must still learn. I know, the love of my king, I must also earn. Is there a man I can trust to be my guide? Is there a man who can show me life's lighter side? Is there a man who can put up with me? A man who knows how to rule but still allow me to be free? These questions I have, I ask you dear Moon. The answers, I know, won't be coming anytime soon...

The King By Irene Riot

Descending down to the cold dark dungeon, into the filth where the old man lay, the young king makes his way through the stench. The old man calmly sits, facing the light of the moon like he has done every night for several years.

“Claim your victory, old man. You have finally defeated me”

Dumbfounded, the old man rose and followed the young king. For the first time in years, the old man breathed fresh air. As they walked in the night, the old man was able to fully appreciate the beauty of the moon he once adored from behind bars. In silence, they walked.

“Prepare him” the young king instructed. The old man was cleaned. Dressed in the finest robes, then lead to the court where the young king received him. Placing the crown back on his head, the old man assumed the throne once again.

“I swore that one day I would defeat you and become the ruler you never were. After every battle I won, I would tell you of my victory not to entertain you but to flaunt my victory; to see your tears of shame. Your silence spoke of your envy”.

“Victory became a raging fire fueled by my very being. The flames rose, embers burned bright then the ashes blew away. In the end, the person I once was ceased to exist”.

“By defeating you, I became something I never wanted to be. The person I once was, lost. I am now empty”.

The old king stood in silence as tears of shame ran down his face. He spoke, “Now that you are empty, my son, receive your father…”

Nanny Duty By Irene Riot

“RJ, eat your breakfast, Sweets. Come on, pay attention. RJ, put your iTouch away now”

Incoherent mumbling.

“RJ! Did you just say ‘fuck?’ You know that’s bad! Who taught you to say that?”

“Tita Tess did…”

“I didn’t teach him that! He just heard me say it!”

Muffled laughter. Guilt drove Marese to walk away from her mother. She, too, had a part in teaching her cousin “this new kind of vocabulary.”

Glaring eyes fixed on Tess.

“Did you still want me to buy RJ an iPad?” Tess asked her sister. “RJ, Sweety, what do you want me to buy you today?”

“We need to go to the mall. I need a Freddy Krueger action figure.”

“Whatever you want, Sweety. Hurry up and finish your breakfast. When you’re done, we’ll go buy your stuff.”

Nanny duty. Tess and Marese spent time with RJ as often as they could. Being an only child, Marese longed for a younger brother. She loved to play with little kids and hounded her mother frequently for a younger brother. She didn’t think her mother would ever find a man who would help grant this simple wish. RJ was a compromise.

Neurotic workaholic Tess was happy to be in a different role. She felt needed for a different reason. She was the cool aunt who would buy RJ all the inappropriate toys and video games. Different demands. Different expectations. While on nanny duty, Tess felt free.


Driving in the car, “RJ, your mommy won’t let me buy you any more Resident Evil games. You’ll have to pick something else when we get to the mall”

“Mommy, that’s like for adults”

“Well, how was I supposed to know? You know I don’t allow all that video game crap in our house. It’s too distracting. And they have like 1 through 4 already. He plays them all the time.”

Ring tone. It was RJ’s mother. She wanted to make sure RJ brought a sweater and make sure he eats something while they were out. And don’t stay out too late or RJ might get tired and run a fever.

“RJ…”

“Yes, Tita?”

Turning down the car stereo, Tess instructed, “I want you to say, ‘chill out, Mommy, I’m good”

“Chill out mommy I’m good.” The little boy answered without looking up from his iTouch.

“Good job, Sweety”

Reaching the mall, RJ lead the pack. Tess and Marese followed. RJ was in charge. This time was his, dedicated solely to him. Tess was his favorite aunt and Marese was his favorite cousin. Tita Tess would get him whatever he wanted. Almost everything, at least.

RJ jumped, skipped and ran ahead of the two. His face beamed with joy. His voice was full of laughter. He would dart in and out of the different stores. The video game store was a particular favorite. He would spend hours just looking at the different games if allowed. The store with the creepy novelty items was another favorite.






“Here, Tita Tess, buy me these, please”

“Freddy Kreuger. Cool. A Dexter doll? Who the hell is he?”

“Action figure, not doll! I need it.”

“Whatever. Let’s go pay”

Settling in the food court, the three were hungry. Each was going over their loot during lunch. Tess had bought Marese a whole new wardrobe that would last the young teen about 3 days and for RJ, a replica of America’s favorite serial killer. That’s what it said on the box.

“That would explain why there was red ink all over the doll’s hands. I thought he was a painter or something. Oh well.” Tess thought to herself.

“Are we done, kids? Let’s clean up our mess and go. I’m getting tired. RJ, Sweety, throw away the boxes to your toys.”

Driving back, “RJ, I want you to say, ‘F it, who cares”

“I can’t say that, I’m just a kid”

“That’s right, Sweety, you are a kid so you can’t say, ‘fuck’. That’s bad. You can say ‘F it”

“Is ‘F’ a bad word?”

“No, Sweety. ‘F’ is a letter of the alphabet. You know that”

“F it?”

“Yes. Now say, ‘F it, who cares?”

“F it who cares”

“Good job, Sweety. Now say, ‘stupid DA”

“Stupid DA”

“Do you know what DA stands for?”

Silence.

“Dumb ass”

“That’s bad”

“I know, Sweety, that’s why you can’t say that. You’re just a kid. You have to say DA”

“Mommy, that’s so wrong”

Laughter.

Dinner went by uneventfully. Marese retired to her room. RJ went down to the basement to play video games. Tess’ sister was washing the dishes, talking about the on goings in her community, job and various other aspects of life. Her brother in law was watching television. Tess wanted to write. It was noisy on the main floor. She went down to the basement where RJ was playing video games. Resident Evil.

Led by the hand, Tess was taken to the back of the room. Her nephew was playing his game, oblivious of whether she was there or not. He played fervently. He would jump up and down. He would laugh whenever something died, whether it was a monster or his own character.

RJ was exceptionally good at playing any kind of video game. He would intentionally kill his own character when he pulled ahead of who he was playing against or when his score got high. Either way, he would always emerge the victor.

Tess had drifted off to sleep and woke up in her dream. Again. She was having trouble breathing. Damn! She left her inhaler upstairs. She watched as her nephew played. She had no clue what was going on. Whenever RJ’s character got hurt, her chest got tighter, breathing got more difficult.



Tess couldn’t break out of this dream. She was getting weak. She was suffocating.

“Gosh freakin’ dammit, RJ! Will you kill the mother fucking bastard already?”

The words didn’t come out. Tess couldn’t speak let alone breathe. RJ laughed as he let his character die. Tess’ throat started to close. Her chest was caving in and she could hardly inhale. The room started to dim.

“Ha! I beat your sorry A!”

Air gushed into Tess’ lungs. Her heart raced and pumped oxygenated blood from her lungs throughout the rest of her body. She broke out of her dream. She was shaking. She was dazed. She was breathing freely now. RJ was jumping up and down, laughing triumphantly.

“F it, who cares? You’re a stupid DA”

“RJ, let’s go. It’s time to go to bed. Who are you talking to?”

“Chill out, Tita. It’s all good” the little boy beamed.

“I saved you”

Grand Dame of the Hall by Irene Riot

Grand dame of the hall. Advanced in her years yet life still brimming as if her cup would never empty. If she was hot sauce, she would leave a kick that would last for days. Years of experience ripened her, allowing her flavor to develop its powerful punch.

Sometimes rays of sun bounce ever so lightly across the floor. She was more like burning flames that scorched, illuminating the darkness of the snake pit. Some creatures don’t like light. They prefer to cower in the shadows.

She came from money. Her husband had a more simple upbringing. She was the force that drove him to the distinguished man he is today. The others didn’t like that.

The others hated light. The food they ate was bland. They chose to stick to the same rigid routine even though their methods were out dated and unnecessarily tedious. They hated change and despised anyone who didn’t fit the mold.

Snakes have tongues that dart in and out. Mothers like to talk and assassins throw daggers. Razor sharp tongues soar in search of a place to land. A moving target may sometimes be hard to hit and the back can often be the most accessible area.

Flipping her hair before pulling out her seat, Grand dame of the hall settles herself in the middle. Pulling out a stack of papers, straightening them with loud firm taps; she is in the middle of the snake pit now. One would think she would be immune to snake venom.

Looking up, she announces, “You catty bitches cry wolf, I cry lawyer!” 

I Doubt It, Seriously...by Irene Riot

A picture I painted is hanging in the gallery. People I know congratulate me but tell me the colors are too bright and the scene is too big. I know. Being the artist, I just painted what I have seen.

There's a map of my life and people are tracking it. They marvel at how far I've come but tell me I took the long way and had too many stop overs. I could have had an easier trip if I took the shortcuts. I know. Being the traveler, I had to stop and rest. The short cuts had too many road blocks and weren't worth the passage.

I took a detour through the rose bushes. I got scratched by the thorns but the beauty of the roses made it all worth while. That's still better than getting stuck in the briar patch.

People tell me how I can paint a better picture based on what they have seen. They show me shortcuts they've taken but may not always be right for me. They give me recipes....knowing that I can't cook.

My paintings could be better. My trip doesn't have to be so long and I am learning how to cook. I hear what everyone is saying. I know your orders, please don't get upset if I don't serve you right away. I have demands of my own. When I get done with those, I will serve you next...

I wonder if anyone really cared to know what I was trying to paint or where I'm really going.... I wonder if anyone wants to know the orders that have come before theirs....I wonder if there's really anyone out there who can be patient enough to teach me how to cook....hahaha. I doubt it.

Callida by Irene Riot

Callida was a woman of ill repute. Orphaned as a child, she had no other living relatives after her parents died. She had no close friends. No one was willing to extend her any help thus she had to resort to immoral and often illegal activity to get by. Rumors were spread about her behavior but no one could ever bring about any concrete proof of her actions. She was as clever as she was savvy.

Callida was not proud of the way she lived her life. She had done many bad deeds but one thing she could say was that she never took the life of another. Every day she would wait for the tiny town church to empty so that she could enter and confess her sins. She begged for an opportunity to show she could do better.

Excordis was the nephew of a very wealthy merchant. He too was an orphan who was taken in by the merchant. The merchant pitied Excordis and provided him with a lavish life. He made Excordis manager of one of his businesses. Excordis was not very bright thus the merchant gave him a business that was small and not very successful.

Excordis never had to live on the streets but Callida knew he too was an orphan. She begged him for a job, any job that would provide her with an honest way of living. Excordis hired her to sweep the front of the shop and make sure everything inside was neat and orderly.

Callida was overjoyed. She made sure the shop was clean and that the front was pleasant to look at. The customers found this inviting. People were drawn to the store. Everything was neatly stacked and displayed properly so that the customers had no problems looking for what they needed. They were also able to discover other things they found useful. If there was something that could not be found, Callida gave proper direction. Because she knew where everything was in the store, she was promoted to sales girl.

Callida and Excordis became very close. They would often discuss business and Callida would give subtle hints on how things could be improved. Projects failed when Excordis did not follow Callida’s advice and business flourished when he went along with her ideas.

The merchant noticed business improved greatly since Callida started to work there. The merchant came to admire this hard working orphan who no longer lived off the streets. Because of Excordis, she was able to live a respectable life.

Excordis became very jealous of the attention the merchant gave Callida. When he and the merchant discussed business, he would blame Callida for any failures and claim any success as a result of his own ideas. The merchant was not convinced Excordis was responsible for the shop’s success.

Excordis feared the merchant would promote Callida and put her in charge of the shop. Excordis hid some money and claimed Callida had stolen from the shop. There was no direct evidence to link her to the crime. Despite that, the merchant dismissed her.

Business did not go as well when Callida left. Another sales girl was hired but she was not as efficient or as talented as Callida. Sales went down. The shop was not well kept. The goods were hap hazardly stacked and displayed in a disorganized fashion. Excordis missed his talks with Callida.

One day, Excordis went out in search of Callida. He was determined to make her to return to the shop. He found her in the marketplace exchanging her belongings for food. Callida saw him and looked away. Excordis stood directly in front of her, forcing her to face him. On bended knee, he offered her a ring. Callida accepted.

Out of Vivika's Box by Irene Riot

Meet Vivika

Her name was Vivika. Like Pandora, she too had a box; a box that was filled with all the evils of the world. Vivika opened her box and out flew all the evil it contained. She shut the box leaving Hope inside, for that's all she wanted her box to be filled with.

Ex2. That’s the name I have given to my second ex-husband. A lot convenient and nicer than Stupid Dumbass. We went through a very difficult divorce. Over the years, we were able to get past the pain. We are very good friends now. I love him very much but hell no, we are never going to get married again.

When I married Ex2, Vivika took me and my child and treated us like we were her own. Ex2’s whole family treated me that way. Ex2 and I were married 3 years. Even after the divorce, Vivika and I remained close. Ex2’s nieces kept in touch with my child. They were “cousins”. There was a small period when we lost touch but the important thing is now, we’re family again.

Vivika suffered a lot of abuse. She lived life and loved hard. She told me all she wanted to do was have a family and raise her children.

“I was the fill-in mother. When all you all professional mothers couldn’t be there for your kids, I was there to chaperone school trips and organize class events. I was den mother, girl scout and brownie mother, Babygirl, I was every kind of mother except a mother fucker”.

A Christmas Story

Warning: Violent content

“Babygirl, I got a Christmas story for you…”

I was married to Raymond, my first husband. He is one mean muthafukka (and when you write that, Babygirl, make sure you get the spelling right. "muthafukka" and not "mother fucker") The only reason he’s still alive today is because the Devil is afraid he might go to Hell.

Well, one Christmas, he came home and talked himself into a frenzy. I don’t remember what he was upset about or if he was even drunk. He was just mad and he started beating up on me, again.

This beating wasn’t that bad. Whenever he bruised my face up I would always cover it up with makeup. I made sure I looked flawless when I went to work the next day. Well anyway, This time I was able to get to the bathroom and I was looking at my face in the mirror on our medicine cabinet.

Then I saw a box of his razors and I got the idea to cut my wrists. I didn’t want to kill myself or anything like that. I just wanted to see if I could make him hurt the way he made me hurt.

When he saw me bleeding he was all over me, “Oh, Baby, don’t die!” “I love you, Baby, I’ll take care of you… Oooooooh!” He was bawling like a baby.

My cousin came over, I guess he called her and she said to him, “Oh, N*gga, so now you love her! Well, did you love her when you were beatin' up on her face?” My cousin was like that.

The policemen that came knew us. They were friends of ours and we used to run around together back in the day. They also knew Raymond beat me but I was afraid to admit to anything. They said that if they ever had to come down to the house again, they were going to arrest him and take me to a shelter.

I didn’t have to go to the emergency room since I didn’t cut that deep. In their report, they put I accidentally cut myself while slicing carrots. If it was reported as a suicide, I would lose my kids.

Raymond wasn’t nice to me a week when he got mad and beat me up again. It was just a few days after I cut myself. This time he went to the bathroom, took a bunch of razors, threw them at me and said, “Here, do it right this time”

How It All Started

My daughter wanted to go out for dinner that night. She was getting in one of her moods again. I told her that if she is having boyfriend trouble or BFF trouble, she needs to tell me and I will back off and give her some space.

She was irritable, snappy and well, being a bitch. I told my daughter several times that I will love her, protect her and give her everything I can afford. She just has to do everything I tell her to do and “Sweety, you don’t ever disrespect yo’ momma”. She was at the verge.

At the tender age of 14, my little baby was having boyfriend trouble.

“How long have you been together as girlfriend and boyfriend?”

“Since December”

“Like some sort of Christmas gift to each other? Sweet. According to my calculations, you guys should be broken up by February. Do the ‘it’s me not you’ thing I taught you. And cry real tears.  It might be better to break up with him after Valentine’s Day. He might get you something nice”.

The child let out an irritated sigh. Her eyes rolled.

“I don’t have the heart to break up with him and I don’t think he’ll ever leave me. He said that he will go to which ever college I go to”

Potential stalker. “Sweety, it sounds like your boy is a really nice guy, the kind of guy I would want you to marry. But you guys are just 14. Sounds to me like you want to keep him but at the same time, you want to explore”

“Sweety, you should cheat on your boyfriend. Just make sure he doesn’t find out”

“Mom!”

“I mean like, it happens all the time. I cheated on your father when we were girlfriend and boyfriend. He couldn’t say anything ‘cause he was doing the same thing to me!”

What Did I Just Do?

I felt funny for a few days. I knew what I told her wasn’t right. In reality, things like that do happen. Guys usually have a standby girl, the one they want to eventually marry, the one they cheat on then marry when they get done sowing their oats. Or they just dump her. Well, ladies do that too. I just never thought I’d be teaching that to my child.

If I was on good terms with my biological mother, I would have called her. I needed a mother. I was 41 years old. I practically raised that child on my own. I was an accomplished woman yet I still needed the guidance of a mother.

The details of what happened between me and my mother would fill another novel. I will never write that one. As far as I’m concerned, that book is closed and will never be opened. I will say this, I used to hate my mother to the point I wished she would die and burn in hell. That was the greatest pain I ever carried.

It was horrible waking up every day and feeling that pain. Then one day, I decided I had enough. I reconciled with her. It was good for about 2 months then I got screwed all over again. I walked away knowing I gave it my all. I walked away without guilt. Most importantly, when I walked away, my hate was released.

“Mother, I think I need your help. Marese is having boyfriend trouble and I told her to cheat on her boyfriend”

“Babygirl, why did you tell her that? The way she loves now will be the way she loves when she grows up. Isn’t it her spring break? Bring that baby here to me. I’ll set her straight. Imagine you, teaching my grandbaby how to sin”

“Mother, it don’t count if they’re not married. Plus, they’re just kids!”

For the record, I never cheated when I was married.

Kevin

“Mother, tell me a story”

“What kind of story, Baby”

“Tell me about your men. Tell me about that guy, remember when Allen and I were getting a divorce, you told me this story about this one guy you were in love with but you told him to stop calling you”

“Oh, now. That was Kevin”

Reminisce.

He was a beautiful man. No, he was fine with a capital “F”. He was an Adonis in chocolate. His skin was like Hershey milk chocolate. His moves were like that too, sweet and smooth. He had a smile that would brighten up the world, with teeth that were perfectly set like well disciplined piano keys. Almond shaped eyes. Dark brown. I got lost in them every time, yes I did.

He was hard not to notice. Every woman at the tennis court wanted to play with him, and not just tennis. You have to play tennis to be able to appreciate the body of a tennis player. He had perfectly chiseled thighs; you could see the outline of every muscle and watch every fiber contract when he played. Everything about him was like that.

He was friendly, so outgoing. I take that back. Friendly wasn’t the word. He was flirtatious. He would wipe the sweat off his brow, give you this look and it would be like, oh! Heaven would seem like hell next to him.

He was a very sweet man and he was good in bed. He would open the car door, pull out my chair, he did everything right. And he always smelled so good! Umm, umm, umm. Yes he did.

I was married to Daddy when I was with Kevin. Oh, I was so in love with that man. He asked me to marry him. I told Daddy about Kevin. Kevin is the only affair I told Daddy about.

It came to a point when I had to choose. Daddy or Kevin. Daddy said he would give me whatever I wanted if I stayed with him. Daddy was an engineer. We lived in this beautiful sprawling Spanish style house with the tile roof. I had my own car, a very nice car at that. Plus there were the kids, all four of them.

Kevin very outgoing but he had a simple job. His life was simple. With his salary, I didn’t think he could sustain me and the kids. I made a decision. A practical decision. A woman’s gotta do what a woman’s gotta do.

I told Kevin that if he loved me, he would let me go. I told him to never call me and if I called him, never answer. He did as he was told. I would call and he wouldn’t answer. That made me so mad. Every time the phone rang, I would pray to God it was him.

My feelings for him ran deep. It took about 2 or 3 years but the feelings eventually died.

Vivika told me this story when I was going through my divorce with Ex2. God, I was so in love with that man. I held on until he dumped me for someone else. I thought my feelings would never die. Vivika was right. They did.

Like my mother said, "This too shall pass..."