11 minute read
Living In The Light
“I AM BORN” (the series)
*Short story written and based on the life of Javannah Davis.
Latavia is sitting in a metal, beige folding chair in a circle of strangers. Each one sharing a story of their life's experiences. One after another Latavia listens empathetically as each person shares moments of their lives when led them to this group therapy session. It was then Latavia’s turn to share.
Therapist: Latavia, you okay? I see how this is affecting you. Are you okay with telling us a little about your story, and what brings you here?
Latavia gently wipes away the tears from her eyes with the rough tissues she took from the generic Kleenex box sitting on a table in the middle of the room.
Latavia: Yeah, I think I’m ready. I just don’t know where to begin. Its so much.
Therapist: Well Just take your time. This is a safe space. You can begin at the point you came to realize there needed to be a change made in your life. A time healing began for
you.
Latavia stares out into nothing as if in a trance. Her mind is flooded with the traumas that have led her to this moment.
Latavia: The very first time I knew things needed to change in my life was a month before my first ever boyfriend went to jail.
Therapist: Okay, take your time, and lets start there.
Latavia falls back into her chair as if a gentle nudge pushed her back. She slowly drops her head, and speaks.
Latavia: It started on my birthday one year. My “boyfriend” at the time convinced me to have a tattoo party.
The story brings us to Latavia’s living room. A party celebrating her birthday is going on. Latavia is on the phone.
Latavia: Quan where are you? I have people here asking where the tattoo artist is!
Quan: Yo, calm the fuck down. I told you I’m coming. I had to take care of some business.
Latavia: Okay, but you said that 4 hours ago. I had to get my mom to take me and get all the stuff for this party YOU wanted, and you not even here!
Quan: Listen, I told you I’ll be there! I was thinking about your stupid ass to make you some birthday money! Don’t call me again; I’ll see you when I pull up!
(Call ends)
Latavia is clearly frustrated and excuses herself and goes to her room. She falls across her bed; tears running down her face. Her cousin Zahara enters the room shortly after.
Zahara: You alright girl?
Zahara: Well, I just told everybody to leave; cause its clear you are not up to partying. You sure you don't want some of your cake?
Latavia: You mean the birthday cake I bought myself? No! And thanks for getting rid of everyone.
Zahara: He’s gonna pay you back right?
Latavia: I don’t know what the fuck he’s gonna do. I just want him to bring me my car back.
Zahara: I really don’t know why you put up with his bullshit. He talks to you reckless, doesn't appreciate you as he should, drives around in your car like its his, and having other bitc.....
Sahara abruptly stops herself and cuts her eyes away from Latavia. Latavia turns toward Zahara with the look of death!
Latavia: What were you about to say about other bitches?? What you heard Zay?
Zahara: Listen Cuz, I didn’t want to tell you, but my boyfriend said he saw Quan in your car with a chick a few times. I didn’t want to tell you cause you deal with enough.
Latavia: YO, How long have you been holding on to this? You don’t think that’s something I need to know?! You know what, it don't even matter! I just need to be alone.
Zahara leaves. Latavia lays back down.
Latavia (Narrates): I wasn’t surprised at what my cousin said. I had already confronted Quan a few weeks ago about a broken condom wrapper I had found under the front seat of my car.
A few hours later Latavia hears Quan coming loudly through the door. He comes into the room smelling of alcohol, cigarettes, and weed.
Quan: Where everybody at?
Latavia: No one is staying at a tattoo party nobody is doing tattoos at. So I basically wasted money on a party for nothing in Quan: There you go with that dumb shit! I told you something came up. Its only 12:30am. They could have waited!
Latavia: What do you mean they could have waited? Firstly, the shit was supposed to start at 4:30pm until 12am, because I TOLD YOU I had to work early in the morning! And what was so important that kept you gone all day? I haven’t really seen You OR my car since yesterday after you picked me up from work!
Quan: Don’t fucking worry about all that. I said I was taking care of something! I told you about your mouth!
Latavia: Did you just say “don’t worry about it?!” and you driving around in the car I pay for? Are you crazy?!
Quan: Whatever! I’m out. I’m not dealing with this from you.
Latavia: That’s okay, you ass can deal with whatever you want to, it just won’t be in my fucking car anymore! Give me my keys! GIVE ME MY KEYS!
Quan: You want the keys, here, take 'em!
(Quan shoots the keys; narrowly missing my head. They land against the wall creating a small crack.)
Latavia: You know what, just get the fuck out! Go use that bitch car who everybody in the town seems to see you with in mine Asshole!!
Quan lunges at Latavia and begins to beat her.
Latavia (Narrates): I couldn’t think of anything besides the pain; so much pain. It wasn’t the pain from the swift blow of his fist that broke blood vessels in my eye, or the painful ringing in my ears, or the pain in my jaw from the kick he landed with one of the size ten and a half Air Jordan 6 Retro sneakers I had just bought him for his birthday the month before. I thought it was painful just paying the $220 for them. Never did I dream that they would help to cause me physical pain. Still, all that was nothing compared to the gut-wrenching pain I was feeling from his betrayal, the hurt of his lies, and now the overall physical and mental devastation from the way he’s beating me as if he
never even knew me. All I could scream was, “Please, its me! Why are you doing this? All I wanted was for you to be honest.” The more I pleaded, the harder his blows became. I heard my grandmother's voice, ‘be still’ I fell silent, my body went limp, and when I regained consciousness I was being placed in an ambulance unable to move. I heard many voices, but it was his that stuck out the most as he shouted, “Fuck that
bitch nigga!”
Fade out-
A week or so pass and Latavia is slowly getting out of a taxi with help from her mom. Latavia has a cast on her arm; and multiple bruises and swelling on her face. They slowly walk up to the house.
Latavia (voiceover): I was in the hospital for almost two weeks. I had an orbital fracture, scratched cornea, swollen jaw, a minor concussion, busted nose, a busted lip, four cracked ribs, and countless scratches and bruises. It was a nightmare; one of the darkest moments of my life. The whole time I laid there, I felt as if I did something wrong. What did I do to get me to this point? How could he do this to me? How could I have done this to me?” The signs were there, but in thirty-six years of my life I had never had anyone make me feel as if there was a chance for me to finally have someone to call my own, and vice versa. On the strength of hoping that someone could actually love me, and not just see me as a quick nut every now and again, was enough to keep me hanging on; even if there wasn’t much to hang on to. This is not what I had envisioned though, or hoped my first “relationship” would have been. I remember my mother helping into the house and into my bedroom. I could barely open my eyes. I was in so much pain. But as she helped me into the bed I saw tears starting to stream down her face. I saw her and immediately I began to cry. She cried seeing me in that situation, and me crying from the shame of being in that situation. I tried to speak, but could only whisper my words.
Latavia: Don’t cry mama.
Mama: How can I not, seeing you like this. That nigga could have killed you! You know if I tell your brother…
Latavia: Mama please don’t. I don’t want anyone else to get involved, or know. Please.
Mama: Okay, okay baby, I won’t say anything. Don’t upset yourself. Are you in pain baby? Mama: (she smiles) Even half dead you still a smart ass. I know you're pressing charges though right?
Latavia: Mama, The police took him away.
Mama: That’s not what I asked you!
Latavia: Mama please. I’m tired.
Mama: Okay baby. I’ll be in after a while with your pain meds.
Mama closes the door. Latavia slowly turns her head and stares out the window. Latavia watches a Red Robin sitting in the branch of a tree, and for a moment, wishes she was that bird to just fly away.
A month or so later, Latavia is healed for the most part, and is carrying a box filled with Quan's things. She drops the box off on the steps of his sister's house and rushes back and gets in her car. Latavia drives away just as Quan bursts through his front door and runs out into the street screaming her name. Quan slowly fades away from view in her mirror. Never looking back, tears run down Latavia’s cheeks as she drives on. Latavia finds her way to the beach, where she walks alone on the sands and fades into the distance as if walking into the bright light of the sun.
Latavia (Narrates): I’ve always felt that from the moment we draw our first breath, and have our first violent encounter by way of the doctor smacking us on the ass, I believe that such is a time that most of us begin a rough and lonely journey to finding whatever happiness is for us. Its almost as if the doctor is warning us of what the world is like, and that we should ready ourselves for a barrage of spankings to occur almost systematically throughout our lives.
But I guess, as with any forms of discipline, there are lessons to be learned that should guide us forward to whatever our happiness is. Its very frustrating, and disheartening to realize that I am 40 years old, and I’m still searching for my happiness. Most would argue that “Happiness comes from within”. But its not always that simple, and those that argue that it is, I’m so glad that you’ve found the utopia of your soul; but you have your journey, and I have mine. Respect it when I tell you that I have not yet.
I suppose I could take this moment of downtime to go over where I went wrong. Perhaps even figure out any pieces I may have missed that might help me complete the convoluted puzzle which is my life. Clearly the best place to start is always the beginning.
I AM BORN. From the time we take our first breath into this world, we inhale the first of our troubles. Born in sin, come on in. My grandfather always said, “Your troubles don’t last always, but if it does then you need to take a long hard look in the mirror!” He didn’t mention the fight one might have to go through with that reflection just to combat that existing trouble.
Each breath with or around Quan was like inhaling razor blades that lacerated my soul. I remember a time my approach to almost everything was fearless, and with great optimism. That is until I allowed those I thought I could trust to lead me to a place of fear, rejection, and insecurity. Outwardly, I have always been surrounded by people who have loved and cared about me. It wasn’t until high school that I became popular enough to acquire real friendships, which in itself is odd considering a person like me, their high school days were hell on earth. I had a decent number of trustworthy friends, and did pretty well in any social situation I was thrust into. However, despite the love, and care I received from so many there was very little understanding of who I really was as a person, or as an individual. In a lot of ways I was, and to a degree still am, invisible, and my presence seems to fade with the passing of time. Not because I am not seen for who I am, but with the constant struggle I had/have to just feel noticed.
…...to be continued.
If you or a loved one are in a situation of domestic violence there is help out there for you. Please contact the WILLOW Domestic Violence Center at: (585) 222 - SAFE, or visit them at: willowcenterny.org. You can also reach out to the National Domestic Violence Hotline at: (800) 799-7233 (www.thehotline.org ).
Any questions regarding this story, or want to read more on this series, please email me at: Javannahd.blaqueoutmazine@gmail.com.
