Shattered Destiny: Part 1

-Shattered-

DEAD.
The word, floating through her mind, repeats itself once, twice, three times. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way, yet there he is, facedown in the bathtub, unmoving, and here she is, huddled in the corner, trembling, mumbling to herself…

* * * * * * * * * * * *
-Destiny-

I relaxed in the tub, reading Afterburn by Zane, my favorite author. For once, my son, De'Sean, was quiet. I was grateful for that, because I needed a little bit of peace and quiet. Being a mother is hard work, especially when you aren’t much more than a child yourself. I am only nineteen years old, barely out of adolescence, as my mother used to always say to me before we stopped speaking. She also used to tell me that my baby’s father, KeShawn, is no good, but that’s beside the point.

Anyway, my son was sleeping, which meant that I should have been sleeping too. But for some reason, my sleep pattern was off, and at 1:30 A.M., I was wide awake, so I decided to take a long hot bath. I put down the book and began to daydream, thinking back to before De'Sean was born, before I was pregnant, when KeShawn and I were together and going strong, when I was happier.

“Destiny, me and you is gonna get married one day, baby. I’ma give you the world on a silver platter.”

“Fa real? You wanna marry me?”

“Of course boo, I jus’ gotta save up so I could buy you a nice engagement ring. Then we could make it official. We gonna buy us a big ol’ house with a big backyard and have us a house fulla kids.”

So many promises made to me.

So many promises unfulfilled.

Instead of keeping his promises, he betrayed me, shattered my world, and destroyed all my hopes, dreams, and fantasies.

I was apprehensive. I didn’t know whether to be happy or angry. I was happy because I was pregnant by the man I was in love with, but angry because at 18, I wasn’t ready to give up my freedom. I wanted to go out, hang with my friends, go party and clubbing. Now I was going to have to stop all of that and be a mother. Plus I told him to put on a condom, but he promised he would pull out in time to avoid a pregnancy. Apparently, he hadn’t been quick enough, because now I was carrying his child. But I wasn’t worried, because I was convinced that my boo KeShawn would step up to the plate and handle his business. He’d take care of me and our child. I was sure of it.

So here I was, on the way to KeShawn’s apartment to deliver the news. I let myself into the building with my copy of his keys, and decided to take the stairs instead of the rickety elevator. I reached the fourth floor and opened the stairwell door, which opened into the fourth floor hallway right beside KeShawn’s apartment door. When I stepped out of the stairwell into the hallway, I noticed that my heart was beating at a breakneck speed, my palms were sweating, and I had butterflies in my stomach. I figured that suddenly my subconscious mind had become nervous of the prospect of telling KeShawn the news. I took a moment to compose myself, took out my keys, and let myself in.

The first thing I noticed when I walked in was the sound of Teddy Pendegrass, singing his heart out, coming from the direction of the bedroom. I walked through the kitchen towards the living room, which ultimately led to the bedroom.

The next thing I noticed was the clothing scattered throughout the living room. Pig, I thought, thinking that KeShawn had come in and just shed his clothing as soon as he walked through the door, as he often did on hot summer days such as this one. Then I realized with a start that there were clothes scattered that did not belong to KeShawn. Women’s clothes. Women’s clothes that did not belong to me.

Still not adding everything up, I continued walking. As I was passing the bathroom, I noticed the
steamed up mirror and, stepping inside, saw two towels tossed carelessly on the floor. Kicking aside one of them, I noticed a pair of women’s thong underwear laying underneath the other towel. This nigga cheatin’ on me? Nah it can’t be. There’s a good explanation for this. We in love, he wouldn’t mess that up, I thought.

I stepped out of the bathroom and walked up to the bedroom door. Almost drowned out by the sound of Teddy Pendergrass was a creaking that sounded suspiciously like bed springs, accompanied by a series of low moans. I froze, not believing my ears, and was only snapped out of my trance by a loud shriek.

“Oh yeah, Daddy, that’s it!”

As soon as my mind processed what I had just heard, I sprang into motion. I kicked open that door with such force that it slammed into the wall and bounced back. By the time it slammed closed, I was already to the bed, yanking my best friend’s naked body off of my man.

“Waaaaaaaaaaaa!”

My baby’s wailing yanked me out of my reverie, away from the memory of what I did to the two of those conniving backstabbers in the minutes that followed, and back into the present. I climbed out of the bathtub and wrapped myself up in an extra large towel. Then I went into the bedroom and pulled him out of his crib. I rocked him, sang to him, gave him a bottle, changed his diaper, and tried everything I could think of to get him to stop screaming, but he wouldn’t calm down. Anything I tried, failed. He’d just scream louder, and I was sick and tired of it. Every day, every night, this little bundle of sorrow and resentment screamed like this for more hours of the day than he was quiet, causing me innumerable headaches and a surplus of anger and frustration. With almost no help (other than financial) from KeShawn, I was basically all alone to fend for myself and my baby. Usually I managed to pull it together, but sometimes I got so fed up that I had to call out to God and Jesus to help me have patience.

This was one of those times. But the shrieked words to Heaven did not give me peace today. Instead, I felt something inside of me snapping. I shook my son and screamed at him to shut up. He continued to cry. I slapped him and threw him onto the bed. He cried louder. At that moment, I lost all control as I reached my breaking point. I picked him up by his legs, carried him into the bathroom, and dropped him in the tub, which still held my bathwater. As I watched his tiny body squirm underwater, with him unsuccessfully trying to draw air into his lungs, but instead inhaling a lungful of water, all I could think was that I was finally getting some peace.

Minutes passed, and eventually, De'Sean stopped struggling. I stared down at him, laying facedown in the tub, for what seemed like hours. Then reality set in, and the gravity of what I’d done hit me. That’s when I blacked out.

{{To Be Continued}}