Wrong Way Up

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Shattered Beyond Words

I have finished getting dressed for work right as Donavon makes it to the house to watch over the kids. He does not knock, walking in as if he still lives there.

“Why did you need me here if Kendra is here?” He asks me barley keeping the anger from boiling over in his words.

“She is drunk, and I do not trust her to keep an eye on the kids if there is an emergency while she is like this. I put her to bed as soon as she stumbled in the door. I am not asking you to do much Donavon, just stay here and sleep and handle the kids if anything should pop up.” I am already exhausted talking to him. Just seeing him releases a tornado of emotion inside me. It is like there are two parts of my body and brain that react to him. On one hand I can see the boy that I married, he has not changed much in the looks department and I have always found him handsome. On the other hand, looking at him churns my stomach as I think of the betrayal.

“Yeah do not worry about it, but I do need that twenty so that I can cover the gas. I am going to work on a project I started, and I will handle anything that happens while you are gone.” Donavon is already pulling art materials out of the bag he brought. I assume that his project was for school, so as he set up, I went and made my lunch for the night.

“Alright here is the twenty for coming and thank you for watching the kids.” I try hard to keep my disdain out of my voice. Perhaps it was my depression, or maybe it was just my morals, but I did not like the fact that I had to pay him to watch his own children. It really does not matter, the kids needed someone here with them that could handle an emergency situation, and Kendra was not that person tonight. “Kendra is sleeping upstairs, so when you get tired you are going to need to take the couch. I already set some pillows and a blanket up on it. The kids will hopefully sleep through the night. There are leftovers in the fridge, help yourself to them.” I give Donavon some final instructions before grabbing my coat. I do not know why but I have a gut feeling that something is not right.

I shake off the feeling. I may not like Donavon, but he would never intentionally harm the kids. I do not have anything that is worth any money, so I do not worry about him stealing from me. I do worry that I have already paid him, so he could leave before I get off of work. I berate myself most of the night at work, worried that he did leave. I hate that I have anxiety, my brain always brings up the worst-case scenario. Rationally I know that most of my fears are not true, but in the moment, they consume me.

Thankfully, work is not too bad. For the most part it is pretty easy going, a few moments get intense, but I handle it pretty well. I am ready to be home by the end of my shift. My anxiety has imagined a million different scenarios, including my house burning down. Like I pointed out before, I am aware that most of my fears are completely irrational, but my brain still likes to think them up. Sometimes I think that my brain hates me.

I heave a sigh of relief when I pull onto my street and see that my house is still standing. No flames are shooting out the windows, and the street is not lined with cops. My brain really does hate me. Donavon’s motorcycle is still parked outside, and I start berating myself for worrying as much as I did.

Walking in the front door, all my anxiety came flooding back. The first thing I noticed was the smell. Cheap perfume, liquor, and the scent of sweat and body fluids hit my nose. I took a deep breath, hating what I was smelling but needing to calm down. It was still very early in the morning and the kids were still sleeping. Knowing that I could not just stay by the front door, I steeled myself.

No matter how many breaths I took, nothing could prepare me for what I seen when I turned the corner and peered into my living room. My heart instantly shattered, silent tears had already begun, and I could not breath. Kendra was on my couch, fully nude with the blanket haphazardly draped a little over her mid-section. Donavon was asleep in the chair, dressed only in his boxers which were gaping open at the slit in the front, and his penis was pulled out now laying limp against his body. There was my bottle of whiskey on the floor between the two of them. It did not take a genius to decipher what had gone on here while I was at work.

Stunned, and crushed I stumble back against the wall. How could both of them betray me like this? Why would they do this to me? I allow myself a moment, a brief snap in time to try to process everything in front of me. As I looked between Kendra, and my soon to be ex husband it was like something finally snapped within my brain. Rage unlike anything I have ever felt before starts boiling within my veins. I relished it; I could handle rage it was the pain that I could not handle.

I allowed the rage to take me over. I allowed it to continue to boil inside me. I loved these two people, and they hurt me more than words can say. How dare they screw in my house. How dare they use me, live off the money that I was making working multiple jobs. Kendra has not helped with bills; Donavon certainly was not helping take care of our children. These thoughts kept fueling the rage, sending it into an inferno that was hotter than a volcano.

As if I am in a trance, I start moving towards them. I pick up the now empty bottle of whiskey sitting between them. I am beyond mad that they had the audacity to use my whiskey, I am not even a drinker it was for making rum cake, and occasionally I use it in glazes for meat. I lift it up staring into it, this bottle is like my life right now, empty with just memories floating around. The longer I stare at the bottle the angrier I become.

I step back once again staring at the two people in my life that should have never of betrayed my trust. They used me, they manipulated me, and they hurt me. I snap and with all of the pent of frustration, anger, hurt, and pain coursing through my veins I fling the empty whiskey bottle at the wall right above Donavon’s head. There is some satisfaction in watching it shatter like my heart and seeing the bits of glass fall on Donavon’s head. The bottle breaking was loud, and now both Donavon and Kendra are waking up, although Kendra is not as awake as Donavon is.

“What the hell Noel?” Donavon asks me, shooting up off the chair, trying to brush the shattered glass off of his skin. His dick is still flopping around, flaccidly dancing a jig as he moves erratically trying to get the glass off of him.

Nothing matters right now; all I can see is red. All I want to do is hurt them. There is not a rational thought in my brain. “What the hell, really that is what you want to ask me? I come home from work to MY house and find you and this whore naked in MY living room, and you want to ask me what the hell.” My voice is loud, but ice cold. It is a strange feeling the fire of rage burning me from the inside, and yet hearing my voice with an artic chill.

Kendra is now groping around, more awake and realizing that she is naked. I do not know which one I am more upset with, her or him. She was supposed to be my friend, my best friend. I have helped her, supported her financially. This is how she repays my kindness.

“Oh, so now you want to cover up. Now you want to act like you have a shred of modesty. Look at you Kendra, screwing every man that walks by. How many diseases do you have honey?” I am out for blood. Watching both of them look at each other and turn and look at me I can see that it is just registering with them what they did. I do not care that they had sex in a drunken haze, to me it was unforgivable.

“So, Donavon was screwing her like trying to throw a hotdog down a hallway?” I am not going to hold back. Knowing that they slept together in my house has broken all ties of kindness for them in my heart. “Well aren’t you just a regular stud muffin. Out screwing young college girls, and drunken whores that have been with the whole town. I bet your momma is so proud of you.”

“Noel please I did not mean to.” Kendra is crying, finally sitting up on the couch realizing what she has done.

“You did not mean to. What exactly did you not mean to do Kendra? Did you not mean to move in here and not pay any bills? Did you not mean to take and drink my whiskey with what is STILL my husband? Did you not mean to spread your legs, and let him have a go at your foul pussy? Or do you simply mean that you did not mean for me to find out?” My voice is now screaming. Somewhere in the back of my mind I can hear my children upstairs. I know that I am not handling this situation right but right now in this moment I cannot stop myself.

I grab Donavon’s jeans that have been discarded by my bookshelf and throw them at him. “Both of you get your nasty assess dressed, and out of my house in ten minutes or I will have the cops here. Do not ever come back here. Kendra I will be sending you a bill and if I have to, I will take your ass to court. Now get going both of you before I start swinging.” I have never been a violent person, but this is too much for me to handle. I want to hit something, someone. I want to watch them bleed so much right now.

Kendra, and Donavon start moving grabbing their clothes quickly. Donavon takes off first, he did not have much to grab. Kendra tries to talk to me again, but I cocked back my fist. I was ready to swing.

“You got two minutes left. Do not worry I do not want anything from you, if you left something, I will take it up to Kelly’s.” Kendra was scrambling trying to grab her stuff. I just wanted her out. She grabbed her duffle bag and headed to the front door.

“I really am sorry Noel.” Kendra tells me as she walks out the door.

“I am sorry too Kendra. I am sorry that I ever let trash like you into my life.” I slammed the door in her face and turn the deadbolt. My mind is reeling over seeing everything this morning and I just want to break down and cry. My anger will not let me though. Instead I stomp into the kitchen intent on serving the kids a three-course breakfast. I need to move right now. I cannot stay still. Was I really that unlovable that even the people I thought were friends would betray me?

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