Page 2 of His Heaven, Her Hell
When did my life come to this? Why did I acquiesce to Damien’s proposal when I knew I didn’t love or want him anymore?
Damien Murphy was deceptive, manipulative, and ultimately, my terror.
He was myNightmare on Elm Street.
As I sat aroundhisfamily on this Thanksgiving Day, I wanted desperately to run far away from here. While they smiled and laughed, having the best holiday ever, I was drowning in despair.
This wasn’t my family. I had been isolated from them for almost a year. I hadn’t spoken to my sister or my mom since Scottlyn was born almost a year ago. They came to the hospital when I gave birth to her, then Damien whisked me away to Buck Fuck Egypt, and I hadn’t seen or spoken to them since. In Damien’s mind, my family was trying to control me because they didn’t want us to be together.
That wasn’t entirely true.
My family saw what I didn’t see, and that was why you should never not listen to your mother when she tells you shit. My inability to see beyond the wool pulled over my eyes was the precursor for him to have free rein to abuse me—mentally, physically, and emotionally.
I should have known something was wrong when I saw him taking pills when we moved in together. He told me it was for his anxiety, and me believing everything the bastard said, I never thought to check to see if it was actually pills for anxiety.
Damien was a liar—a wolf in sheep’s clothing, if I had to describe him. The day I met him was a day I would always regret. Every time I thought about him approaching me that summer afternoon four years ago while I was at the beach with my sister, Jasmine, I became even more depressed.
His looks and charm pulled me in the moment we locked eyes. Our conversation was effortless and pure. He told me he owned three detailing companies and a barbershop. When I asked him how he had acquired those businesses, he told me he had made investments that grew over time. I shouldn't have accepted such a vague answer, but being the sheltered, naïve princess I was, I fell for the fine entrepreneur.
It wasn’t until a year later, and after I gave him my virginity, that I found out that he was one of the biggest kingpins in all of Detroit and Muskegon. He ran with some crew called the Broadstreet Bullies. I was terrified to hear that because I hadheard of the Broadstreet Bullies. The things they did to people had me blocking his number the moment I heard about his involvement.
Of course, he came with more lies that I ended up believing. We were together for three years before I got pregnant. At that point, I could see the negative subtle changes in him. He suddenly cut me off from my friends, then told me I couldn’t wear certain things, and eventually began to keep me away from my family more often than not.
After Scottlyn was born, he moved us three hours away from my family from Detroit to Muskegon, Michigan. He bought me a new phone, and when I asked if he had transferred my contacts so I could call my mom, he told me no and that he’d sold my old phone. I knew then that things between us would never be the same.
I wasn’t allowed to have social media, so while I could make dance videos, there was no way for me to showcase my passion. Being a choreographer had become a fleeting memory after he threatened to take my phone and break my legs if I even thought about posting any of them.
The asshole made sure he had a dance studio built in our 12,000-square-foot home and guaranteed I had all the luxuries I needed. But I wasn’t happy—hadn’t been since he moved me here and started putting his hands on me.
As I sat beside him, I felt invisible; unseen. His family didn’t care that he was a monster. Through the black eyes, broken ribs, broken arms, and busted lips, they ignored it all as if my being harmed was normal. At first, it started with pushes and slaps here and there. When he saw that I wouldn’t fight him back, it turned into punches and kicks. I confided in his mother and told her what her son was doing to me. She pretended to care and consoled me, but as soon as I got home, I was met with fists, feet, and words.
“You think my mama gon’ save you, bitch?”
So many times I wanted to run away, but with no money, no job, and my family miles away, I could do nothing but wait for an opportunity that I felt would never come.
As I looked down at my precious baby girl resting in my arms, my eyes watered because she didn’t deserve this. Damien doted over Scottlyn so much that you would never be able to tell he was an evil being. I, however, didn’t get that affection and attention anymore.
Bottom line: never trust a good dick and a handsome smile.
“Eat your food.” The command in his voice made me tense.
I didn’t have an appetite, but to avoid an altercation later, I picked up my fork and scooped some potato salad into my mouth.
The shit was trifling.
I hated potato salad, but of course, Mr. Hyde put a healthy amount on my plate because his mother, Delilah, said I looked thin.
“Aye, Dame. You remember when Luke busted that girl’s windows out of her house last summer?” Damien’s cousin, Deja, asked while laughing.
“Hell yeah! That girl had his head so gone. His ass was stalking her for weeks.”
“I still stalk her ass,” Luke said with a smile on his face.
They all laughed as if the behavior was normal.
This whole family is fucking toxic.
“It’s been two years, nigga. You need to let that go,” Dakari, Damien’s uncle, voiced while shaking his head. He was probably the most sane one at this table.
