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Black Love Story
Our Happy Home


I'm very much in love with the guy next door and he loves me as well. His eyes are brown and so is his skin. I love him so much I can imagine being with him all the time. No matter what I'm doing, visions of him will pop into my mind.

Last night, I just happened to be looking out of the window towards his house when I saw a silver Cadillac drive up. He answered the door in just some blue boxer shorts to let the girl with the blond weave into his house. She looked about six feet tall and was so skinny she probably could have squeezed herself through his keyhole. They went inside and I saw the lights in his living room went off and the lights in his bedroom came on. I knew it was his bedroom because I watched him get ready for bed every night. I saw their shadows move together as they kissed and then parted. Then, he began to undress her. I didn't even realize that I was digging my acrylic nails on my right hand into my left wrist so hard that I was starting to bleed. After a while, the bedroom lights went out and I could see nothing for the next two hours.

I finally saw the girl emerge from his house at three in the morning, her weave dishevelled. She looked in the direction of my house and saw me as she made her way towards her car. I looked the other way to pretend that I was doing something else. I didn't want her to tell him that he had a crazy next door neighbour or something like that.

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When he came home from work that evening, I gave him a tuna casserole that I made from scratch. I quit my job about a month ago so I could watch his house while he was at work. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay. I was about to get fired anyway because I spent most of my time day dreaming about him. I was hoping I would be able to move into his place before rent is due again.
"Thank you." He said, taking the tuna casserole dish.
This was the tenth dish I had given him but it was okay. We would be living together soon.
"Did you have a hard day at work?" I asked, putting my foot at the door so he couldn't close me out.
I did that as I knew he didn't want to let me see his dirty house.
"Nah, I'm cool." He said.
"I'll talk to you later, alright."
He closed the door quickly. I guess he needed to go to the bathroom.

Two nights later, the same girl pulled up in front of the house. She probably couldn't even cook. And she definitely wasn't going to keep his house clean the way I sometimes break in and clean up when he was at work. Maybe the car is the difference between us. Hence, when I saw the lights go off in the bedroom, I grabbed my coat and went out to her car. My own car was repossessed three days ago. However, that was okay. We would work out transportation after I got settled into our home. Anyway, I knew better than to slash her tyres. That would just give her an excuse to stay in our house longer. I took my house key and ran it across her passenger door three times. I did the same thing to her hood and her trunk. I wanted to scrape my initials into that nice paint job, but I thought better of it. Some nice squiggly lines would do just fine. She didn't leave until ten o'clock the next morning this time. I was tempted to go over and drag her out at around four in the morning. I'm sure he wanted her to leave as much as I did. Nevertheless, I held my peace. It was okay because I would soon be living there and she wouldn't be pulling anymore stunts like this. In fact, I realized it was worth the wait when I saw the look on her face at the sight of her newly scratched car. She marched her flat butt right back up the hill and told him what had happened. I almost fell off my window seat as I saw her pout and stomped her feet like a spoiled brat. Speaking of brats, I think I am pregnant with his baby. I am pretty sure of it. They called the police, but I was sure he didn't want the mother of his unborn baby get arrested for something so stupid. The police even came to my door to ask if I had seen anything. I said no and I told them I wonder who would do such an awful thing.

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After she was gone, I brought him some baked chicken marinated in lemon sauce and mushroom soup. He didn't even take the beautiful silver platter I had spent my last fifty dollars to bring him the chicken. Since I am carrying his child, I guess he figured that I would need it more than him.

"I know you scratched Bailey's car."
So that was her name, huh? Well he wouldn't have to worry about Bailey anymore.
"What's the big deal?" I asked innocently as I pushed my way into his house.
He was much skinnier than I was and his body finally gave way. He stumbled backwards but regained his balance. I sat the platter down and looked around.
"Boy, I've got a lot of work to do, huh? I had to do all the cleaning when you're at work! You simply mess up the house when you get back from work, don’t you?"
I started picking up his dirty clothes that were strewn all over the place. I would wash them tomorrow. He just stood there looking amazed. I guess he couldn't believe a woman would actually do this for him. I could guarantee Bailey wouldn't do it. "You're crazy!" He said, shaking his head.
"I know. I do all the cleaning and all you do is mess it up."
I shook my head and continued cleaning.
"You got to go." He said grabbing my arm.

"Oh come on." I said still picking up trash.
"I'll get my stuff later on. Right now, I need to clean because I am not bringing my stuff over here to this junky house."
"Your stuff?"
"Don't worry. I don't have much. However, when the baby gets here, we will need a yard sale to make some room."
That's when he grabbed me by both arms and made me look at him. He better not come with that 'not wanting commitment' stuff, especially now that I am pregnant.
"You are not moving in here. There is no baby! You need to go home before I call the police."
I shook my head. Now I know what this is all about.
"Don't worry about Bailey's car. I'll go back to work until my maternity leave so we'll be able to pay for it."
Then, he started shaking me. I was scared for our baby. I knew he would never hurt us on purpose, but I had to make him stop. Therefore, I shoved him hard.
"Stop! You're going to hurt the baby."

He fell backwards and his head hit the edge of the kitchen table hard. I didn't know exactly how bad it was until I saw blood on the edge of the table and on the floor around his head. I ran to the bathroom and came back with a clean wet wash cloth and a large towel to wrap around his head. When I went back into the kitchen, he was still lying at the same spot. There was even more blood than before. I pressed the cloth on the exact spot that was bleeding and wrapped the big towel over it to hold the cloth in place. I pinned everything together with a safety pin out of my housedress. I knew I shouldn't try to pick him up as I am pregnant but I reckoned one little time wouldn’t hurt. Hence, I picked him up and slung him over my shoulder. I carried him back to what is now our bedroom and laid him across our unkempt bed. I made a mental note to get the sheets washed and pressed the next day. That night, I moved most of my stuff over to my new home. I was taking a break around nine when there was a loud knock at the door. I opened it slowly as I knew exactly who was on the other side.
"He doesn’t want to see you anymore." I told Bailey.
"We're going to raise our baby up together."
Then, I closed the door.

It's been two months since I moved in. I think I lost the baby I was carrying. However, it is okay as we can try for another baby again. I went back to work and he's been at home waiting for me everyday. The head injury kind of disabled him. Then, there's this problem about the smell. No matter how much Lysol I spray, it just doesn't seem to cover it. I can't open the windows because flies like to congregate around him. I would end up using a whole can of Raid to get rid of them. However, it's okay. I would never let a little thing like smell break up our happy home.


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