“If I can’t have you goddamnit nobody else is gonna have you!” Then he … punched me in my face Catching up with BLACK, WHITE and READ ALL OVER

 The night I got my ass whooped and survived


Cover of "Kindergarten Cop"

Cover of Kindergarten Cop

It was 1991. I went by my homegirl Jackie’s house and we drank some brews and watched the movie Kindergarten Cop and laughed heartily and talked about personal stuff during the commercials and just overall had a blast in each other’s company.

I left her apartment at about 11:15PM and headed home to my cute little cottage with the tin roof. I loved to hear the rain hit that tin roof. It would soothe me during some of the most frightful nights I’ve ever had in my life. I needed to hear that rain on this particular night because this was the night I would become the victim of an assault by my ex-boyfriend.

I pulled into the parking space adjacent to my cottage, which was behind my landlady’s large 2 story house. I was told that my cottage used to be a storage place for potatoes and her family had farmed a lot back in the day. I don’t know why but I didn’t believe that story.

A pile of crack cocaine ‘rocks’

When I put my car in park, I saw headlights pop out behind me from out of nowhere. My heart began to beat fast and when I turned to look it was my ex-boyfriend, who I had just broken up with about a week ago, because I woke up one night and smelled this horrible chemical smell in the house, which was the smell of crack cocaine, and I did not know he was using that as a recreational drug. I couldn’t take it so I told him to leave.

Now he was back, standing at my driver’s side door, with both of his hands pushing my window down, his eyes as big as silver dollars and a look on his face that said he was going to take me out. He pulled down that window, snatched me out of that car, threw me to the ground, stood over top of me with his hands on my chest and said “If I can’t have you goddamnit nobody else is gonna have you!” Then he pulled me up, looked me square in the eye and punched me in my face over and over again like I was a man. I couldn’t believe it. I felt blood trickle down from my lip and my face stung, almost to the point of being numb but not numb enough that I didn’t start feeling the pain. I looked up and saw the curtains of my landlady’s bedroom window move. She saw what was happening. She saw him beating me and she resorted back to the comfort of her bedroom, acting as if nothing happened.

He snapped out of it, got into his car and left, leaving me there devastated and just unable to move or speak or anything. I went into my sweet, comfortable, welcoming cottage and called my homeboy, my trusted friend that I grew up with, who came right over and comforted me and stayed with me for a whole week until I was able to return to work without everyone seeing that I had been beaten to the point of not being recognized. I didn’t see my parents or tell them anything about it until another week had passed and when I walked in the door my Mom looked at me and gasped, as the wounds were still there. The bruising was still there. The look of fear and pain was still on my face. She grabbed me and hugged me and said everything would be fine. She was right.

I went through the court thing (nothing happened to him) and ended up moving to another apartment, for fear that he was coming back to that cottage that I loved. I saw this man about 3 years later coming out of a grocery store with his Mom and he says to me “Hey Kerri. How are you doing? Are you okay? Good to see you.” I didn’t know how to respond. Then I talked to my sister a few days later, told her about me seeing him and she told me that she took care of him a few years ago, by informing some of her home boys about what happened and they went to his job and well, basically took the law into their own hands. Justice had been served and I didn’t even know it. I could have hugged my sister through that phone when she told me that. I mean was it right that he beat me? Was it right that someone beat him for beating me? I felt comfort in knowing that he had been dealt with and was told to never EVER phuck with me again.

I miss that cottage. I hated what happened that night. But I survived. I survived. This is one of many reasons why I’m strong to this day. This is how I know I can never be defeated by anything!

via The night I got my ass whooped and survived | BLACK, WHITE & READ ALL OVER.


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