falling in leaves

fifty eight

"sweaters"

I sighed deeply, tossing my keys onto the nearest table after locking the door of my home behind me. While kicking off my shoes, I realized that there was a voicemail on the answering machine. I pressed the button that'd allow me to listen and plopped down on the living room couch to relax a bit.

"Yo, Quinn. It's Romeo. . . again. I was just calling to see if you were okay. . . again. I ain't tryna' jock you or press you or nothin' but hit me back. A'ight? I'll pop up on that ass, if need be. One."

I rolled my eyes, deleting the message and reveling in the silence of the apartment. I stared up at the ceiling, my thoughts not driving me mad for once. They'd done enough of that during the work day.

Eventually, I made it to my room, where I gathered what was needed in order to draw myself a bath. I then proceeded to get undressed in the mirror. The bruises that still lined my neck only caused annoyance to brew within me.

I murmured profane words under my breath at the sight of what Juwan had done to me. The bruises were fading, but they weren't doing so quickly enough. It was too hot outside to be wearing turtlenecks, and I was on the brink of cutting the sleeves and bottom half of the ones I owned in order to accommodate the weather.

I got into the tub, closing my eyes and sighing upon becoming settled. Although I enjoyed the peace of my blank thoughts, the sight of the bruise on my neck immediately got my mind running.

I wondered what all the stepping stones to my bitterness were. I wondered what Juwan meant when he told me he was already ahead of me when I told him he's a dead man. I wondered what Marlo was up to. I wondered what'd he do if he found out about what Juwan had done.

I needed to figure out what I'd do first. . . I said I was going to the police, but. . . I don't know. So many cases like mine get written off or shelved. Nobody cares about what happens to women that look like me. . . Plus, I did kinda' push Juwan to his limit. It's no excuse by any means, but I was just as guilty.

I'd always had a habit of pushing and punching, especially when I was upset. I guess I could work on that. . . I guess.

My mind continued to run even after my bath. It didn't cease until I'd dug myself into a hole.

I didn't know how I ended up in such an emotional state. It started with why my police report wouldn't be taken seriously and went to why no one has taken me seriously. Why Sweets hates me now. Why Marlo is with another. Why Juwan thought it was acceptable to put his hands on me. Why I had no friends outside of work.

I was supposed to be invincible, but how invincible could I be if I was suffering from a broken heart and a broken spirit? How strong could I be if I was so weak-minded?