Chapter 1
TABITHA
Tabitha lost her mind on a sunny Wednesday in May.
She was cooking breakfast, nothing special, Eric didn’t like special. He liked eggs, bacon, toast, and coffee—black. Her three-year-old daughter, Erica, was making a mess of her
bedroom. Eric was reading the paper in the living room. Nibbling on a piece of bacon, she looked around the kitchen, making sure everything was in place before serving. All was
right in her little world—or so she thought.As Tabitha was setting the table, Erica ran into the kitchen dressed in a Cinderella Halloween costume she refused to take off at home.
She went into the cabinets near the stove, with her eyes on the pots and pans.
“Oh, no you don’t, little girl.” Tabitha pulled Erica out of the cabinets by her leg. “You know, you can’t bang on those pans when Daddy’s here.”
“But, daddy’s leaving, Mama.”
“He’s not going anywhere, little girl.” She smiled, as she smoothed Erica’s hair, which was quickly becoming little more than an afro with barrettes.
“Un huh, Mamma. He’s putting on his coat.” Erica pouted and skipped back into the living room. Not again, she thought. Tabitha placed the dishes back on the counter and
followed her out into the living room. He hasn’t been home for a full week, and now he’s leaving again.
“Daddy, daddy,” Erica yelled as she ran up to Eric, pulling on his coattails. “If you’re going to the store, Daddy can you get me some potato chips please, please, pretty please?”
“I’m not going to the store baby girl,” Eric said. He smiled down at her with his warm chestnut eyes. “You better go and clean your room before your mother has a fit.” He swatted
her bottom, and she ran into her room with a little yelp.
Tabitha took a deep breath and put on a big smile. She quickly scanned the room, making sure nothing was out of place. The last thing she wanted to do was make him mad.
Satisfied with the house, she smoothed her hands down the length of her old ratted nightgown. She was suddenly too conscious of her appearance. Here we go again, she
thought, the last time he left he didn’t come back for a month.
“Where’re you going, baby?”
“Out,” he said shifting the magazines around on the coffee table. “Tab, you seen my keys?”
“No.” she lied, knowing she had hid them the night before. She took another deep breath, walked up to him and tried again. “Where are you going, baby?”
He rolled his eyes. “I said I was going out. Are you fucking deaf?” He patted his shirt and pants pockets. “Where in the hell did I put my keys?” Eric passed by Tabitha to look on
top the dinning room table, giving off a whiff of alcohol.
Oh God, he’s been drinking. Fear vibrated through her body. She saw her reflection in the mirror and quickly removed the scarf from her head.
Walk lightly, Tabitha, be easy. Don’t make him mad. She knew Eric wasn’t fond of head scarves, but she was so self-conscious of her new haircut. Not everyone could look like
Toni Braxton. I try though, anything to keep him happy—anything.
Tabitha cleared her throat. “Well, duh, I can see that you’re going out. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see that.”
She pulled on his coattails, but, she wasn’t graced with the same smile as Eric. His face crumpled into something demonic. The change in his mood was so sudden; Tabitha
didn’t have time to react. Eric punched her with such force that she went flying back into the entertainment center. She crashed into the lamp and fell to the floor.
Eric’s warm brown eyes turned black with rage as he kicked her repeatedly in the gut.
Tabitha’s world erupted in pain. No, Oh God no, I’m so sorry. Fear kept her mouth closed tight. Erica appeared in her doorway screaming. Her eyes were wide and frightened.
“Are you OK, mama?”
It hurt Tabitha to breathe. “I’m OK, baby. Go back to your room.”
Erica didn’t budge. She just stood there and broke into tears.
“Go in your room!” Eric shouted. She disappeared behind her door as Tabitha lay on the floor, surrounded by broken glass. He towered over her. “Look at you, you fat ugly bitch.
Who would want to stay here with you,” Eric laughed, and then hog spit into Tabitha’s face and turned his back on her.
The world tilted. His laughter echoed through her mind. With a growl, she grabbed a shard of the broken lamp and lunged for him. She tripped over Erica’s toy and missed her
target—his stomach—but slashed a deep cut into his thigh.
Eric grabbed his leg and fell back onto the sofa. “What the fuck is the matter with you? Are you fucking nuts?”
He didn’t look so sure of himself anymore. Tabitha stood over him, clutching the broken glass so tightly that it ripped into her hand. Blood soaked through his jeans and started to
pool on the floor.
“Oh, my God, oh my God, look at my leg, Tab. What the fuck is wrong with you? Put the glass down, Tab. Baby, just put the glass down.”
She could not believe that he was afraid. She took a step toward him, threatening him with the shard of glass. He scrambled to get away from her, his blood soaking the sofa.
Tabitha took another swipe at him and laughed as he recoiled. She threw the broken piece of lamp onto his lap and laughed again. She laughed as she stuffed all she could
inside Erica’s Barbie book bag. She laughed as she picked up Erica and headed for the door. She laughed when he asked where she was going. Tabitha laughed while she and
Erica walked ten blocks to her Mama’s house. She laughed at the look on her Mom’s face when she opened the door and saw them covered with blood. She laughed as she
walked up the steps and entered the room she grew up in. Then she saw her reflection in the mirror on the far wall and realized it was over, finally over. And, she cried.
LISA
Always in the beginning Lisa is aware of the dream. Her stomach flops. A tight coil of fear wraps itself around her heart. But, the feeling of awareness vanishes almost as quickly
as it forms. She is consumed by the dream.
“There’s never anything good on.” Turning the sound down, she flipped through the channels at warp speed. Her son’s cries cut through the air like a siren.
“That boy has a nice set of pipes”. Stretching, she headed to the kitchen to get him something to eat.
No bottles in the fridge. That’s funny; I know I put his formula in there. Lisa thought. She checked the cabinets above the sink and the stove, no bottles. The baby’s cries became
more insistent.
“Its OK li’l man, mamma’s coming. Where in the blazes is his formula?” She looked under the kitchen sink. The baby belts out a piercing scream. Then silence. She whirled
around. Head spinning.
“My baby,” the silence was so loud. “My baby,” she took the stairs two at a time. A million thoughts raced through her head.
“My baby, my God, my baby, please oh, please let him be OK.” She ran down the hall to her bedroom and paused when she came to the door. Lisa could not make herself go
inside. His little crib was so still, so very still.
Panic took her, making her move when fear tried to root her to the doorway. She walked toward the baby’s crib like a machine, instead of a terrified young mother.
The crib was empty. “Jesus,” she tore away the blankets. “My baby is gone.” Her heart refused to believe it. She threw the stuffed bears out of the crib flipped the mattress over as
if her baby lay beneath it. Lisa stooped to check under the crib and froze.
She knew he was there before she heard him, because she had to choke down the bile that rose up into her throat whenever she was in her stepfather’s company.
“Lisa, what in the hell are you doing down there?”
“I’m looking for my baby.”
Her voice shook, but she willed it to be stronger. “He was crying,” She picked up his teddy bear and clutched it to her breast. “Then he just stopped and—
“And?” He interrupted in that country drawl that she hated.
“Well, of course he stopped crying, sugar, He’s with his daddy!”
Lisa awoke in a tangle of sheets, slicked with sweat. Her alarm clock buzzed angrily on the night stand beside the bed. She picked it up and kissed it lovingly before she hit the
snooze button and put it back down.
“You never kiss me like that.”
Lisa nearly jumped out of her skin. “Jesus, Tony, you scared the hell out of me!” He was sitting in the corner of her bedroom smoking a cigarette.
“You look like the hell was already scared out of you! Were you having that dream again?”
She snorted and sat up on the side of the bed. “It’s more like a recurring nightmare!”
“You want to tell me about it?”
“No! You want to tell me what you’re doing here?”
He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “I was hoping to get lucky.”
She laughed despite herself. “I guess this is your lucky day, stud.” She stretched arching her back provocatively, and her thick black braids brushed against the small of her back
with the motion. I really didn’t feel like having this conversation with Tony, yet again. She looked over at him and sighed. The concern that she saw in his eyes tore at her heart. He
looked so handsome in his grey warm up suit. I don’t have the strength to argue with him about this, so I’ll distract him.
“You could join me in the shower, you know?”
She left him standing there sputtering while she walked over to the bathroom. Letting her night shirt fall in a heap in front of the sink she looked in the mirror. She thought death
itself was staring back at her instead of her reflection. Her skin was pasty and pale. Her eyes held deep dark circles under puffy swollen bags.
Girl, you have to have big brassy balls to invite someone to shower with you when you look like a troll monster.
Turning the shower on to hell, she grabbed her strawberry body wash and loofa sponge before stepping into the spray. The hot water needled and poked at her skin. She clinched
her teeth against the pain, stuck her head directly under the nozzle, and prayed that the hot water would burn away the after effects of her dream.
As always, thoughts of her stepfather left Lisa feeling filthy. Squeezing her eyes shut against the memory of his hands on her, she soaped up the loofa and began to scrub herself
with vengeance.
I can still smell him. She choked down the bile in her throat. Envisioning his hand sliding up her thighs, she began to scrub furiously until she finally began to feel clean. She
leaned against the shower wall, taking deep and rapid breaths.
Wrapping her hands around the base of her stomach, she allowed herself one shuddering sob for the child that once lived there. “I’m sorry, baby.”
She didn’t hear the shower door open.
“Lisa, baby,” Tony whispered as he entered the shower. Seeing her standing there naked and soapy under the spray had him instantly erect.
“Damn baby, you’re beautiful,” he crooned. Tony ran his hand up Lisa’s arm and gently cupped her left breast.
“No!” She turned and swung wildly. Her right fist connected with his jaw with a loud crack. He took the punch with a grunt and barely had time to recover before she swung at him
again.
“Don’t fucking touch me, you pervert. Don’t put your hands on me!”
“Lisa! Stop! Damn!” He rapped his head on the soap dish trying to avoid a mean left swing.
“You asked me to shower with you, remember?” He tried to get his arms around her but she was slick with soap.
“Lisa, what is wrong with you?” He shouted while blocking a knee to the groin. He managed to get a grip on her, but she was trembling with fury.
“Look at me,” he yelled. She kept her eyes closed as she struggled to get free. “Damn it Lisa, look at me!” She could tell he was trying to keep his voice calm.
“You invited me in the shower with you.” He said slowly. He took a deep breath to settle himself.
“Lisa,” he said quietly. “Look at me.”
She opened her eyes slowly, realizing it was Tony and not her stepfather who held her. She lowered her head and closed her eyes. Humiliation covered her as completely as the
water. Sobs racked her body as he gathered her close and murmured soothing words into her hair. She clung to him despite her initial embarrassment. He was strong and clean
and not her stepfather.
The erection that was forgotten after her first punch landed started to rear its ugly head. Lisa was still wet and clinging to him. He sighed and stepped out of the shower. No matter
how much he wanted to burry himself inside of her, Lisa knew that he sensed that was not what she needed at the moment.
She stood still as he grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her. She said nothing as he lifted her from the shower, and carried her to her bed. He started back to the bathroom to
get his clothes, but she grabbed his arm and clung to it as if her life depended on it. With another huge sigh, Tony lie down beside her doing his best to ignore the fact that they
were both still naked. He rocked her to sleep, praying that whatever chased her in her dreams would leave her be and let her rest.
TABITHA
Tabitha lost her mind on a sunny Wednesday in May.
She was cooking breakfast, nothing special, Eric didn’t like special. He liked eggs, bacon, toast, and coffee—black. Her three-year-old daughter, Erica, was making a mess of her
bedroom. Eric was reading the paper in the living room. Nibbling on a piece of bacon, she looked around the kitchen, making sure everything was in place before serving. All was
right in her little world—or so she thought.As Tabitha was setting the table, Erica ran into the kitchen dressed in a Cinderella Halloween costume she refused to take off at home.
She went into the cabinets near the stove, with her eyes on the pots and pans.
“Oh, no you don’t, little girl.” Tabitha pulled Erica out of the cabinets by her leg. “You know, you can’t bang on those pans when Daddy’s here.”
“But, daddy’s leaving, Mama.”
“He’s not going anywhere, little girl.” She smiled, as she smoothed Erica’s hair, which was quickly becoming little more than an afro with barrettes.
“Un huh, Mamma. He’s putting on his coat.” Erica pouted and skipped back into the living room. Not again, she thought. Tabitha placed the dishes back on the counter and
followed her out into the living room. He hasn’t been home for a full week, and now he’s leaving again.
“Daddy, daddy,” Erica yelled as she ran up to Eric, pulling on his coattails. “If you’re going to the store, Daddy can you get me some potato chips please, please, pretty please?”
“I’m not going to the store baby girl,” Eric said. He smiled down at her with his warm chestnut eyes. “You better go and clean your room before your mother has a fit.” He swatted
her bottom, and she ran into her room with a little yelp.
Tabitha took a deep breath and put on a big smile. She quickly scanned the room, making sure nothing was out of place. The last thing she wanted to do was make him mad.
Satisfied with the house, she smoothed her hands down the length of her old ratted nightgown. She was suddenly too conscious of her appearance. Here we go again, she
thought, the last time he left he didn’t come back for a month.
“Where’re you going, baby?”
“Out,” he said shifting the magazines around on the coffee table. “Tab, you seen my keys?”
“No.” she lied, knowing she had hid them the night before. She took another deep breath, walked up to him and tried again. “Where are you going, baby?”
He rolled his eyes. “I said I was going out. Are you fucking deaf?” He patted his shirt and pants pockets. “Where in the hell did I put my keys?” Eric passed by Tabitha to look on
top the dinning room table, giving off a whiff of alcohol.
Oh God, he’s been drinking. Fear vibrated through her body. She saw her reflection in the mirror and quickly removed the scarf from her head.
Walk lightly, Tabitha, be easy. Don’t make him mad. She knew Eric wasn’t fond of head scarves, but she was so self-conscious of her new haircut. Not everyone could look like
Toni Braxton. I try though, anything to keep him happy—anything.
Tabitha cleared her throat. “Well, duh, I can see that you’re going out. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see that.”
She pulled on his coattails, but, she wasn’t graced with the same smile as Eric. His face crumpled into something demonic. The change in his mood was so sudden; Tabitha
didn’t have time to react. Eric punched her with such force that she went flying back into the entertainment center. She crashed into the lamp and fell to the floor.
Eric’s warm brown eyes turned black with rage as he kicked her repeatedly in the gut.
Tabitha’s world erupted in pain. No, Oh God no, I’m so sorry. Fear kept her mouth closed tight. Erica appeared in her doorway screaming. Her eyes were wide and frightened.
“Are you OK, mama?”
It hurt Tabitha to breathe. “I’m OK, baby. Go back to your room.”
Erica didn’t budge. She just stood there and broke into tears.
“Go in your room!” Eric shouted. She disappeared behind her door as Tabitha lay on the floor, surrounded by broken glass. He towered over her. “Look at you, you fat ugly bitch.
Who would want to stay here with you,” Eric laughed, and then hog spit into Tabitha’s face and turned his back on her.
The world tilted. His laughter echoed through her mind. With a growl, she grabbed a shard of the broken lamp and lunged for him. She tripped over Erica’s toy and missed her
target—his stomach—but slashed a deep cut into his thigh.
Eric grabbed his leg and fell back onto the sofa. “What the fuck is the matter with you? Are you fucking nuts?”
He didn’t look so sure of himself anymore. Tabitha stood over him, clutching the broken glass so tightly that it ripped into her hand. Blood soaked through his jeans and started to
pool on the floor.
“Oh, my God, oh my God, look at my leg, Tab. What the fuck is wrong with you? Put the glass down, Tab. Baby, just put the glass down.”
She could not believe that he was afraid. She took a step toward him, threatening him with the shard of glass. He scrambled to get away from her, his blood soaking the sofa.
Tabitha took another swipe at him and laughed as he recoiled. She threw the broken piece of lamp onto his lap and laughed again. She laughed as she stuffed all she could
inside Erica’s Barbie book bag. She laughed as she picked up Erica and headed for the door. She laughed when he asked where she was going. Tabitha laughed while she and
Erica walked ten blocks to her Mama’s house. She laughed at the look on her Mom’s face when she opened the door and saw them covered with blood. She laughed as she
walked up the steps and entered the room she grew up in. Then she saw her reflection in the mirror on the far wall and realized it was over, finally over. And, she cried.
LISA
Always in the beginning Lisa is aware of the dream. Her stomach flops. A tight coil of fear wraps itself around her heart. But, the feeling of awareness vanishes almost as quickly
as it forms. She is consumed by the dream.
“There’s never anything good on.” Turning the sound down, she flipped through the channels at warp speed. Her son’s cries cut through the air like a siren.
“That boy has a nice set of pipes”. Stretching, she headed to the kitchen to get him something to eat.
No bottles in the fridge. That’s funny; I know I put his formula in there. Lisa thought. She checked the cabinets above the sink and the stove, no bottles. The baby’s cries became
more insistent.
“Its OK li’l man, mamma’s coming. Where in the blazes is his formula?” She looked under the kitchen sink. The baby belts out a piercing scream. Then silence. She whirled
around. Head spinning.
“My baby,” the silence was so loud. “My baby,” she took the stairs two at a time. A million thoughts raced through her head.
“My baby, my God, my baby, please oh, please let him be OK.” She ran down the hall to her bedroom and paused when she came to the door. Lisa could not make herself go
inside. His little crib was so still, so very still.
Panic took her, making her move when fear tried to root her to the doorway. She walked toward the baby’s crib like a machine, instead of a terrified young mother.
The crib was empty. “Jesus,” she tore away the blankets. “My baby is gone.” Her heart refused to believe it. She threw the stuffed bears out of the crib flipped the mattress over as
if her baby lay beneath it. Lisa stooped to check under the crib and froze.
She knew he was there before she heard him, because she had to choke down the bile that rose up into her throat whenever she was in her stepfather’s company.
“Lisa, what in the hell are you doing down there?”
“I’m looking for my baby.”
Her voice shook, but she willed it to be stronger. “He was crying,” She picked up his teddy bear and clutched it to her breast. “Then he just stopped and—
“And?” He interrupted in that country drawl that she hated.
“Well, of course he stopped crying, sugar, He’s with his daddy!”
Lisa awoke in a tangle of sheets, slicked with sweat. Her alarm clock buzzed angrily on the night stand beside the bed. She picked it up and kissed it lovingly before she hit the
snooze button and put it back down.
“You never kiss me like that.”
Lisa nearly jumped out of her skin. “Jesus, Tony, you scared the hell out of me!” He was sitting in the corner of her bedroom smoking a cigarette.
“You look like the hell was already scared out of you! Were you having that dream again?”
She snorted and sat up on the side of the bed. “It’s more like a recurring nightmare!”
“You want to tell me about it?”
“No! You want to tell me what you’re doing here?”
He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “I was hoping to get lucky.”
She laughed despite herself. “I guess this is your lucky day, stud.” She stretched arching her back provocatively, and her thick black braids brushed against the small of her back
with the motion. I really didn’t feel like having this conversation with Tony, yet again. She looked over at him and sighed. The concern that she saw in his eyes tore at her heart. He
looked so handsome in his grey warm up suit. I don’t have the strength to argue with him about this, so I’ll distract him.
“You could join me in the shower, you know?”
She left him standing there sputtering while she walked over to the bathroom. Letting her night shirt fall in a heap in front of the sink she looked in the mirror. She thought death
itself was staring back at her instead of her reflection. Her skin was pasty and pale. Her eyes held deep dark circles under puffy swollen bags.
Girl, you have to have big brassy balls to invite someone to shower with you when you look like a troll monster.
Turning the shower on to hell, she grabbed her strawberry body wash and loofa sponge before stepping into the spray. The hot water needled and poked at her skin. She clinched
her teeth against the pain, stuck her head directly under the nozzle, and prayed that the hot water would burn away the after effects of her dream.
As always, thoughts of her stepfather left Lisa feeling filthy. Squeezing her eyes shut against the memory of his hands on her, she soaped up the loofa and began to scrub herself
with vengeance.
I can still smell him. She choked down the bile in her throat. Envisioning his hand sliding up her thighs, she began to scrub furiously until she finally began to feel clean. She
leaned against the shower wall, taking deep and rapid breaths.
Wrapping her hands around the base of her stomach, she allowed herself one shuddering sob for the child that once lived there. “I’m sorry, baby.”
She didn’t hear the shower door open.
“Lisa, baby,” Tony whispered as he entered the shower. Seeing her standing there naked and soapy under the spray had him instantly erect.
“Damn baby, you’re beautiful,” he crooned. Tony ran his hand up Lisa’s arm and gently cupped her left breast.
“No!” She turned and swung wildly. Her right fist connected with his jaw with a loud crack. He took the punch with a grunt and barely had time to recover before she swung at him
again.
“Don’t fucking touch me, you pervert. Don’t put your hands on me!”
“Lisa! Stop! Damn!” He rapped his head on the soap dish trying to avoid a mean left swing.
“You asked me to shower with you, remember?” He tried to get his arms around her but she was slick with soap.
“Lisa, what is wrong with you?” He shouted while blocking a knee to the groin. He managed to get a grip on her, but she was trembling with fury.
“Look at me,” he yelled. She kept her eyes closed as she struggled to get free. “Damn it Lisa, look at me!” She could tell he was trying to keep his voice calm.
“You invited me in the shower with you.” He said slowly. He took a deep breath to settle himself.
“Lisa,” he said quietly. “Look at me.”
She opened her eyes slowly, realizing it was Tony and not her stepfather who held her. She lowered her head and closed her eyes. Humiliation covered her as completely as the
water. Sobs racked her body as he gathered her close and murmured soothing words into her hair. She clung to him despite her initial embarrassment. He was strong and clean
and not her stepfather.
The erection that was forgotten after her first punch landed started to rear its ugly head. Lisa was still wet and clinging to him. He sighed and stepped out of the shower. No matter
how much he wanted to burry himself inside of her, Lisa knew that he sensed that was not what she needed at the moment.
She stood still as he grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her. She said nothing as he lifted her from the shower, and carried her to her bed. He started back to the bathroom to
get his clothes, but she grabbed his arm and clung to it as if her life depended on it. With another huge sigh, Tony lie down beside her doing his best to ignore the fact that they
were both still naked. He rocked her to sleep, praying that whatever chased her in her dreams would leave her be and let her rest.
| Strawberry Mansion Chapter 1 |
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