Her Untold Truth: Sandra's Story (FROM BRUISES TO BEAUTY)

Live for today, because tomorrow's not promised. Sandra lives by this motto. It hits closer to home for her than the average person. Beautiful and confident on the outside, Sandra is the perfect mentor to the girls she helps. She gives them all the best advice and tells them the truth, no sugar coating, about the realities of being a successful, black woman in this world. But the real Sandra isn't revealed by what she says. It's what she doesn't say that holds the key to her happiness...

     "Why in the hell do doctors' appointments take so long?!" Sandra thought as she sat anxiously in the waiting room of her doctor's office. As she fidgeted and bit her nails she continued to think. "I mean, you'd think because they're dealing with sick people, they'd move with some sense of urgency. I've been coming here every month for over a year. Don't I get priority treatment?"

      She looked up at the wall clock above the front desk. She'd only been waiting for half an hour. Sandra bit some of her pinky nail and spit it across the room. 

     "Ugh! I really need to quit doing this." she thought then shoved  her  hands in the pockets of her denim leggins. That 30 minutes felt more like 30 hours! By now, Sandra thought she'd be used to the waiting. Unfortunately, coming to get checked out never got easier. 

     "Ms. Cole?" The medical secretary called from behind the desk. 

     "Right here." she said and hurried over to the desk. "How you been doing?" 

     "I'm pretty good. How you been?" the secretary responded with a smile.

     "Alright, I guess. Anxious as usual."

     "Aww, don't be anxious. You're in good hands. You know that."

     Sandra let out a sigh. "Yeah, I know, but it's not you guys I'm worried about."

     The secretary smiled. "I understand. Monica's waiting for you. Come on back."

     Sandra walked down the corridor and followed Monica, the medical assistant, to the back of the clinic where the examination rooms were. She folded her arms and shivered in reaction to the rush of cool air that welcomed her when she entered the sterile exam room. The smell of bleach was pomiinent. "It must have been mopped recently." she thought. 

     After checking Sandra's vitals, weight, and height Monica laid a hospital gown across the examining table. She then instructed Sandra to change into the gown and wait for Dr. Kennedy before leaving the room and closing the door behind her. 

     Sandra slowly undressed. Each time she removed a piece of clothing she looked over the part of her body it once covered. Once she had taken everything off and didn't notice any unusual marks she looked up and whispered "Thank you, Lord!". Finally, she put on her hospital gown and sat on the exam table to wait for Dr. Kennedy's arrival. 

     The clinic seemed eerily quiet that day. The only sounds Sandra could hear were the ticking of the clock and her veery own breathing. She stood up and started to pace back and forth across the small room.

     About ten minutes later there was a light tapping at the door then it slowly began to open. A lump formed in Sandra's throat.

     "Hi there, Sandra." Dr. Kennedy said and let herself in. 

     'Hi..." Sandra said swallowing hard to get rid of the lump in her throat. 

     "How ya been feelin'?" she said in her thick southern accent. "The new medicine I gave ya treatin' ya alright?"

     "Yeah, Dr. Kennedy. It's fine. I still feel pretty normal. A little tired, but that's it."

     "Well a lil' fatigue's okay. Any body aches or night sweats? The medicine helping with that?"

     "None of that. The pills are doing their job."

     "Alright. Awesome. Now, let me take a look at ya." Dr. Kennedy said and motioned for Sandra to lay back on the exam table. 

     Sandra laid completely still as Dr. Kennedy rubbed her cold, freshly washed hands over her body. This was the most uncomfortable part for Sandra. She hated letting this woman touch all over her. Even knowing she was a doctor, Sandra still felt violated.

     Once she was done, Dr. Kennedy stood up and placed her hands on her hips. "You can sit up, darlin'." she said. "Everything looks good. No new marks or legions. I gotta admit, Sandra, I'm impressed. You're in really good shape. Givin' that virus a run for it's money, huh?"

     Sandra smiled for the first time since she'd been there. "I'm trying. I really am. I got kids I need to be around for." 

     "Well, you keep it up. At this rate the virus won't have a chance to mutate. I wanna see you live a long life like that basketball player. What's his name..." Dr. Kennedy said then looked up in deep thought, rubbing her chin. 

     "Magic Johnson."

     "Yep. That's it. He's a great example. Welp, you're good to go if you don't have any questions or nothin'." 

     Sandra shook her head. "Nope. No questions for me."

     "Okay, darlin'. You can get dressed and ready to go!" Dr. Kennedy said cheerfully and left the room. 

Little Girl Lost: Punkin's Story (FROM BRUISES TO BEAUTY)

She may be young, but she's ready. At 18 years old, Punkin is in her first real relationship. Her man's name is Andre and she has been the happiest she's ever been since she's been with him. Living in a house with an alcoholic mother who doesn't just abuse liquor isn't easy. She abuses men and Punkin just as bad. Andre's going to change all of that though. He promised to save her and give her a better life, and when it's time for him to show and prove, Punkin gets more than she ever expected...

'

     "Punkin!"

     "Oh, my God! What now?" Punkin said to herself instantly irritated by the sound of her mother's voice.

     "PUNKIN!" her mother yelled from the bottom of the stairs a little louder this time.

     Punkin stomped over to her bedroom door and yanked it open. "What do you want?! Damn!" she yelled.

     "Gimmie three dollas so I can get some cigarettes!" her mother demanded.

     "Don't Eddie got three dollas fo' you? I ain't got no money!" Punkin yelled then slammed her door.

     "You don't slam no door in my muthafuckin' house!" Punkin's mother screamed then marched up the stairs to Punkin's bedroom. She threw the door open and found Punkin leaning against her dresser with her arms folded.

     "I'm not in the mood right now, Punkin. Gimme three dollas now. I gotta get me some cigarettes." she growled.

     Punkin's stomach turned. She hated her mother's stench of cigarettes and malt liquor. She glared at Punkin through bloodshot eyes.

     "I'm not playin' witchu."

     "I don't have no money, Momma. Get outta my face." she said and shoved her mother away.

     Her mom stumbled backwards and fell. More because of the four 24 ounce cans of Olde English 800 she drank that day than Punkin's shove.

     She stood up and charged at Punkin who jumped out of the way and watched her mother slam into her dresser.

     Trying to hold back her laugh, Punkin reasoned with her mother. "Gone somewhere, Momma! I don't wanna fight witchu!" she said as her mother scrambled to her feet.

     "Get out my house, you hoe! Call that nigga you been fuckin' witcho fast ass!" Carole rushed Punkin again this time catching her off guard and knocking her to the floor. She climbed on top of her and grabbed her hair.

     Punkin kicked her legs and swung her fists in an attempt to get her mother off of her, but Punkin's never been much of a fighter. Carole yanked her hair and slapped her a few times in the face.

     "Get the fuck off me!" Punkin screamed.

     Carole slapped Punkin one last time before getting off of her.

     "Get out! I want you outta here, bitch!" Carole yelled.

     "I don't give a fuck! I wanna get away from yo' drunk ass anyway!" Punkin yelled back. She stomped past her mother and hurried down to the kitchen. She grabbed a garbage bag and took it back up to her room.

     "I'm 'bout to go stay with Dre." she said aloud to herself. He told her he lived in a nice condo in Beachwood. She knew he wouldn't mind her staying there.

     Punkin had been seeing her new boyfriend, Andre for about a month. She had fallen completely in love with him already. Punkin had never met a guy like him before. Andre was older and mature. He was doing his thang in the hood selling weed so he had paper. He bought her a D&G bag for their three week anniversary. Andre had fallen in love with her too and it was time for him to make good on his promise. "I'ma take you away from all this one day. Don't worry 'bout nothin'." he'd always say. "You gon' be my wife. I love you so much." Andre treated her like a woman instead of some young hoodrat. He took her to her very first nice hotel. This man was her soul mate.

     Punkin flung open her dresser drawers and stuffed as much clothing as would fit into the garbage bag then sat it by her bedroom door. She grabbed her toothbrush, deodorant, and the rest of her toiletries then stuffed them in her D&G bag.

     "I ain't never coming back!" she said as she threw her bag on her shoulder and grabbed her garbage bag full of clothes.

     Punkin hurried out of the house and started walking. When she got to the end of her street she pulled her cellphone from her pocket and dialed Andre's number. Her heart melted when she heard his sexy voice.

     "Hello..."

     "Hey, babe. I need you to come get me. I just got finished fighting my mother. She put me out."

     "Naw. I can't do it." he said nonchalantly.

     "Huh?" Punkin said confused. She looked at her phone trying to make sure she heard him right. "What you mean no?"

     "I got my son. I'ma be wit him and his mother for the rest of the day."

     "But... But I'm out here stranded with all my clothes. Can't you just come, drop me off at your house, then go back with your son?"

     "Bitch, I said no! Call somebody else!" Andre screamed into the phone then hung up in her face.

    

Displaced Anger: Andre's Story (FROM BRUISES TO BEAUTY)

Some of the toughest men on the outside are the most cowardly on the inside. Andre wanted to be the tough guy very badly but he just had too much bitch in his heart to do so. On the other hand, when the target is fragile and vulnerable, his manhood kicks right in...

     Andre paced back and forth nervously as he waited in the parking lot of Louis Pasteur Elementary school. "It's dark as hell out here." he snapped as he peered up at the abandoned building. He shuddered at the sight. Andre shifted his weight as he leaned on the hood of his car. The faint scent of urine crept into his nostrils thanks to the eerie breeze that blew softly. The fence had been taken over by foliage so the plant life made it look more like a giant wall of leaves. Andre quickly scanned the fence with his eyes making sure that no one was around.
     "This nigga need to hurry the fuck up!" Andre thought aloud. He pulled out his cell phone and checked the time. 11:53 pm. Monty was 23 minutes late. Andre started for the driver's side door. He was going to get in and call to see what was taking Monty so long when he saw headlights shining in the distance. Andre was relieved at the sight of Monty's car pulling into the parking lot.
     Monty parked next to Andre's car, turned his engine off, then got out to meet him.
     "'Bout damn time, nigga!" Andre laughed then reached out to give Monty dap.
     "Man, shut yo scary ass up." Monty replied. He looked down at Andre's hand, then up at him, and finally waved him off declining Andre's handshake.
     Embarassed, Andre filled with anger. Checking Monty would only cause him problems so he ignored the disrespect and got down to business. "Where that bread at?" Andre asked. He was ready to get his money and get the hell out of that dark ass parking lot.
     "I ain't got it, Dre. I had some shit to take care of real quick. I'ma get it to you next week."
     "What the fuck?! Naw, nigga. I need my shit now. Come up off my ends, bruh." Andre demanded then stepped to Monty's face.
     "I said I'll give it to you next week! Either that or you won't get shit. What it's gon' be?" Monty's tone of voice was serious and stern. The look on his face meant business.
     Andre knew that Monty would put a bullet in a muthafucka quick and he wasn't trying to get popped. He backed up a little and calmed down. :"What day next week?" he asked.
     "I'll call you. Tuesday and let you know."
     "Aight. Just hit me up." Andre said disappointed.
    "Aight. It's on, my nigga." Monty said then got in his car and left.
     Andre got in his car and banged his hands on the steering wheel. "Fuck!" he screamed. "I can't believe I  keep lettin' that hoe ass nigga play me!" Andre slammed his hands against the steering wheel again. "Next time he  gon' have to pay me upfront! That nigga gets no more credit!" He continued to scream. Then he started the car and headed to his mom's house.
     He called her first to make sure she would be awake when he got there.
     Pat answered after a few rings. "Hello?" she said sleepily.
     "Ma, you woke? I'm 'bout to come over there."
     "No, baby I'm in the bed. What's wrong?" Pat could hear the tension in her son's voice.
     "This nigga Monty late wit my ends again. I need $150 til next week. I'm 'bout to come get it." Andre told her.
     "I don't have it on me right now, Dre. I'll go to the bank in the morning and get it before I go to work." she said and yawned. "I'll call you when I get up."
     "No, Ma! I want it tonight." Andre said. The little boy in him came out.
     "I don't have it."
     "Well, let me come get your ATM card and go get it myself." he pleaded.
     "No! I'm not about to give you my damn ATM card. Take your ass to sleep, boy. I'll  call you in the morning, okay?"
     Andre pouted a little bit. He hated being told no, but he couldn't convince his mother to do what he asked. "Okay, Ma. Talk to you tomorrow." he said and hung up.
     "Ugh!" he screamed in frustration. He wouldn't be getting any money that night so he made a U-turn and went home.
     Tracey was waiting up for him. She was on the couch watching TV when Andre came in and slammed the door behind him. Startled, Tracey jumped a little bit. "What's wrong with you?" she asked.
     Andre ignored her and stormed into the kitchen. There were a few pans soaking in the sink. "What the fuck is these dishes doin' in the sink?!" he yelled.
     "They had food dried up in them. I was gonna wash 'em before I went to bed." Tracey called in to him.
     Andre went back into the living room, snatched Tracey up, and slapped her across the face. "Get in there and wash 'em NOW!" he yelled at her.
     Tracey grabbed her face and started to cry. "Okay." she sobbed.
     "Hurry up!" he said then went upstairs to take a shower. 

The Beginning of the end. Tracey's story. (FROM BRUISES TO BEAUTY)

Tracey finds out that she's pregnant. She tells Andre that she doesn't want to keep the baby. He wants to know why, but she has a secret that won't let her tell him why.

     "I promise!" Andre sobbed. He got down on his knees, wrapped his arms around Tracey's waist, and laid his head on her stomach. "Please, Tray, I promise. I'ma change. C'mon, please... Don't kill my baby Tracey!" Andre continued to cry.

     "Get off of me." Tracey replied and tried to push him away.

~

     Yes. Tracey was eight weeks pregnant and she had decided to get an abortion. She and Andre had only been dating for nine months and the last seven have been nothing short of a nightmare. Tracey had become a prisoner in her own home after two months of dating. Andre pushed his way in. He just showed up at her door with two garbage bags full of clothes and an XBox 360.

     Up until then, their relationship had been like a fairy tale. Andre was the most beartiful man she'd ever seen. He was mocha complected and looked a lot like the actor Morric Chesnut. He reminded her of Paul Owens, the cutest boy in her third grade class. She'd been lucky enough to be his girlfriend for one month that school year. And it made her feel so good because she was known as "Gappy Gappy Over Lappy" for her crooked teeth and large gap in the front two. He chose her despite her flaws.

     That's the feeling Andre gave her when he pursued her. The super handsome, popular dope boy picks the average skinny black girl with the gap in her teeth.

     So when Andre showed up on her doorstep, Tracey let him stay thinking this was the right thing for their relationship. After being there two days, she realized that she couldn't have been more wrong.

     That day she came home from working as an STNA in a nursing home and Andre instantly started arguing with her because he felt it took her too long to het home. This was the first of many fights Tracey would have to endure.

~

         "No, Dre! I said get off of me!" Tracey said and continued to pull his arms from around her waist.

     Andre tightened his grip. "I'm for real, Tray. Please! I won't ever put my hands on you like that again." Andre cried harder and tears streamed down his face wetting up Tracey's shirt.

     "Look at me! Look at my face! Look at all the bruises on my arms! I'm tired of this shit, Dre! I can't have no baby by you and you treat me like a damn punching bag!" Tracey said angrily.

     Andre looked up at her. She had a small bruise under her right eye from when he slapped her the night before. She'd made peas for dinner. He hated peas.

     "I'm sorry about all that. You know what I've been through watching my father beat the fuck out of my mother. I don't want to belike that. I wanna be better than that nigga! I can't do it without you though... And my baby. That's what's gon' make me change. Being a man formy family."

     Tracey looked into Andre's eyes. She'd never seen him like this before. So vulnerable. So hurt. She felt horrible watching him beg her to spare her child's life. Listening to him cry and plead with her enhanced the guilt that she was hiding inside. She wanted to be Andre's wife and the mother of his children. It's just that she made a terrible mistake and now she has to make it right. Andre couled never know her secret and the only way to ensure that was to get rid of this baby.

     "I can't..." Tracey said and began to cry.

     Andre stood up and grabbed Tracey tightly by her wrists. "Why not?" he growled. The expression on his face instantly chaged from sad to pissed off. "I'm not understanding you right now." he glared at her with daggers in his eyes.

     "Y-you won't..." she stammered.

     "I won't what?!" he snapped then tightened his grip on her wrists.

     Tracey was overwhelmed with fear. She had come to learn the sighns of Andre's rage. The look in his eyes, the tone of his voice. It all spelled trouble and Tracey was in no mood for fighting.

     "Okay, okay..."

     "Okay, what?"

     "I'll keep the baby."

From Bruises To Beauty Book Trailer

It's finally here! My first ebook, 'From Bruises To Beauty' is done and ready for download. Check the trailer:

To read preview and/or download the entire book click here to go to the Books, Bass, & Beauty blog!