Chapter 1 Boredom

Chapter 2 Depression

Chapter 3 The Other Man

Chapter 4 Boundaries

Chapter 5 Following your heart

Chapter 6 Losing Him

Chapter 7 Mentally Ill

Chapter 8 Music Therapy

Chapter 9 Explanation

Chapter 10 Mother-In-Law

Chapter 11 Relapse

Chapter 12 Hospitalization

Chapter 13 Group Therapy

Chapter 14 Patients' Rights

Chapter 15 Obsession

Chapter 16 Professor

Chapter 17 Physical Abuse

Chapter 18 ODD

Chapter 19 Telekinesis

Chapter 20 Wedding

Excerpt from sequel

About the author

References 

The sequel to this book is now available. Buy now!

CHAPTER 1: BOREDOM

It’s 3:00 a.m. and Anika is dreaming of black pearl surroundings and a flash of white light, as the sun, moon, and planets charge toward her. Is this a dream or a nightmare? She quivers with icy cold fear and awakens out of her deep slumber. She stares at her clock, turns on the light, then says with a tone of distress, “Damn!” She springs up like a chicken with its head cut off and grabs a few articles of clothing. Dressing quickly, she leaves, slamming the door behind her. She steps into her 1985 lackluster blue-black Ford to embark on a long journey to see Mosi, the love of her life. The man she one day hopes to marry. An eternity can pass and she will still be waiting, ring finger pointed, for his hand in marriage. 

   Performing her daily ritual, Anika buckles her seat belt, starts her engine, and turns on her music, the music that makes her feel at home. The music that makes her love herself and others. The joy of music is what holds her together. It’s what gives her the stamina to struggle through life’s trials and tribulations. She can now drive, for she has found the right song for the right moment. Amidst nightfall throttled by chalked fog, she observes American flags swaying from pole to pole, grounding outside of each store front, lining the streets. 

Her eyes sweep past a red, white, and blue flag, and glance at the purity of a royal blue sky filled with opal stars, which to her, represent peace and tranquility, freedom, choice, love, honor, and the hope of fulfilling the American dream. She sees car dealerships, great buildings of grandeur, and corporations. 

She can have anything she lays her eyes upon…anything. She is aware of how corporate America chooses to advertise; the colors they use, the words used, the symbols, for she wants the same material possessions those entrepreneurs possess. She wants the beatification that she sees the entrepreneurs’ wives possess. She remains content as she listens to her music. She knows there are strategic steps to acquire the material possessions she wants. She exhales, inhales, and then exhales once more. She’s confident. She can stare at anything she chooses and still drive, without losing focus. She fast forwards her CD to one of her favorite songs. This song reminds her of Him, the one; He is and has always been the one. She begins to sing a song by Brandy Norwood, “He is,” and repeats it.   

Before she knows it, she makes it to her anticipated destination. Excitedly, Anika leaps out of her car, runs up to his door, and knocks. After the third knock, he bolts up to the door like he’s spiderman. Mosi’s bare, chestnut brown, muscular chest and massive broad shoulders greet her with a wet hug. She can’t help but stare as his athletic shoulders squeeze through his white tee. He is a towering, slender, well-built man. He would make any woman melt to her knees. He’s rough though; rough around the edges. He is her opposite, but it was when he first spoke to her she knew he was the one, her one and only. He was down to earth: an honest, faithful, loyal man who would never leave her side. She was sure of it. Anika met Mosi while she was a student in one of her business courses. He had his eye on her during the entire semester, but never said a word. He was swept away by her beauty. If it were any other time, with any other woman, he would have approached her as if he were a jungle predator, but around Anika he remained without words. Anika had to be the one to initiate conversation. She, too, had her eyes on him until the semester’s end. In the last month of classes, she realized she would have to make the first move.

It was on a Friday, she remembers, right after Christmas. She arrived ten minutes early to class, for she knew he would be the only one waiting for class to start, and she would have her opportunity to speak to him with no interference from other classmates. She gathered her uneasy nerves and spoke.

     “Did you get anything good for Christmas?” 

He seemed startled by her voice. So much time had passed and she had never spoken a word to him before this. He swallowed, then his first words stumbled off his tongue.  

  “I had a good Christmas. I got a lot of gifts. How about you?” 

Anika was then struck with words of a player.

  “I wish I would have had you for Christmas.” The ice was broken and they laughed.

       Before meeting Anika, Mosi was a player. He didn’t believe in being faithful to one woman. He thought monogamy was a belief held only by the insane. Handsome man that he was, women catered to him. He didn’t have to lift a finger. He had one woman who would clean for him, one who would run his errands, and one who was available for sex, any time, day or night. Anika, to Mosi, was a wonder woman. She was a beautiful young Capricorn, born in January and unknowingly surrounded in purple rain, which was the natural color of her aura. She had a petite seducing figure; curvy like an hourglass. Her long jet-black hair shined as it flowed down her slender back and her flawless coffee skin was as beautiful and smooth as silk and satin. She was kind to a fault and forever reaching out to those in need, which sometimes could pull her into what some people may see as, ‘drama.’ She portrayed herself as an approachable woman from the wild color selection of her clothes to the type of jewelry she wore. She was what some people would call eccentric; although people knew she could be trusted and would undoubtedly solve all things through love.

Mosi smiles, his bleached snow-white teeth lined in a row of perfection. The warmth of his smile takes her breath away, every time. Inhale, pause, exhale, pause, inhale, pause. His jaw thrusts forward and he kisses her softly curled plum lips. 

The corners of her mouth then turn upward as she returns his kiss.

“How was the drive?” Mosi asks as his aroused pupils welcome her into his lavish home. His home looks as though it was decorated by a professional interior designer. A late renaissance canvas covers his beige walls. His ivory ceiling appears to rise with no end in sight, and his eggshell carpet feels like rabbit’s fur.

“Fine, I love to drive,” Anika replies. He fixes her a late-night snack. They sit on his leather chaise and enjoy watching television on his 65-inch. Anika’s eyes begin to peak as she dozes off. Mosi awakens her with his sexy voice. 

“You’re not falling asleep already, are you?” His u-shaped grin presses up against his dimples. She doesn't reply but attempts to awaken as she staggers toward the bedroom. She knows what he wants without a word spoken. Her eyes fall, pressing weight on her curled lashes.

Four hours later she awakens again, only to bathe, say her goodbyes, and rush off to work. Nine to five, eight hours a day, forty hours a week and on call; year after year. Working for others bothers her. She wants her own business. She wants to be the one in power who takes charge, gives orders, who is in control. Anika daydreams as she sits on her hard computer chair with virtually no leg room and enters numbers all day. How exciting, Anika thinks. She mumbles, “I can’t wait until thirty years from now when I can retire and this company will take care of me.” Yeah right. That’s unrealistic, Anika thinks. Most employees won’t last five years and definitely not ten. She remembers a former coworker who was in her tenth year of employment and quit right before she was due to retire. This employee, without warning, was given additional job responsibilities; more than she could handle. The woman did not know it then, but Anika knew that since she was earning so much from the company she worked for, after raises for ten years, the owner could no longer afford to pay her the same salary.

So instead of firing her, a sneakier plan was chosen; one that was decided by the surreptitious management team to force her into quitting. Pretty smart, Anika thinks. 

The time passes like a blink of an eye and she realizes it’s nearing 5:30 p.m. and she needs to rush off to class. 

Just as Anika’s feet touch the floor, here comes Mr. Boss Man. His redneck reaches her sight before his face does. He’s from Deep South, Mississippi; brags of being country and dresses the part to a T. Day after day, he dresses in loosely worn blue jean jumpsuits that have enough pockets to hold the contents of a wallet in each one. His feet are adorned with heavy onyx stone shoes, and his teeth are tarnished and straw colored from excessive use of tobacco and home brewed whisky. His eyes are bloodshot russet, skin rugged from hard work, and his hair is reminiscent of hay. He’s proud of the awards his pig receives for racing each year. Anika’s anxious eyes keep a sturdy stare as he strides toward her, erect and confident. Anika’s right eye peeks up at him with a look of timid surrender.

  “Am I fired?” She whispers as sweat dribbles from her restless fingertips. Mr. Boss Man’s eyes pause and his forehead droops in inquisition causing his eyes to squint. 

“No. Why is it that every time I come to your desk you think you are being fired? I need to give you a quick evaluation. For the past two weeks you have been tardy for four days. One more day late and you could be terminated. Is there a reason for your tardiness?” Mr. Boss Man speaks with an aggressive look in his stern sky-blue eyes.

“Lately I haven’t been able to sleep much. When I finally do go to sleep, I only have a few hours to rest and my alarm clock is not doing much good in waking me up,” Anika rambles while biting down on her manicured burgundy fingernails.

“What do you think can be done to improve your attendance?” Mr. Boss Man asks as he stares into her eyes. Anika cannot look into his eyes because she is afraid he might read her mind and know she feels guilty for her tardiness. Anika lifts her head.

“Maybe I should buy another alarm clock, one that’s much louder.”

“That sounds like a good idea; make sure you follow through,” Mr. Boss Man says. “Also, I have noticed your keying errors have doubled within the last two weeks. Let’s make sure you double-check your data entry before turning it in. Other than that, you are doing great. I know you’re anxious to leave, so have a nice day.” 

Anika releases the breath her diaphragm is holding, grabs her book bag, and surges off to her economics class.

She is taking classes in business administration and psychology at the top business university in the nation, the University of South Florida. Several of her professors work for the President of the United States. Because of this, she feels privileged to be a student. Even though she fails some of her difficult tests, she remains proud. Through going to college part-time throughout the years, Anika has learned a great deal about marketing, economics, management, accounting, finance, and just about anything anyone would need to know about psychology. 

Her most challenging class is “Womanist Vision in Religion.” This class is not challenging because of the subject itself. It is challenging because she has to squeeze in time throughout her day to write papers. She’s required to write papers on topics ranging from racism to religion; the sort of topics you dare only to discuss with a select few. She has a voluminous amount of knowledge on a variety of subjects coupled with the ability to effectively communicate with others. She is a natural tutor and teacher. She wants to teach those who have an open mind and are ready to learn. 

Sometimes she feels as if her mind will explode sending pieces of knowledge to those in want and need. She learned from her mother to always have an open mind and be ready to shut up and listen because as her mother says, ‘You just might learn something.’ 

Her economics teacher startles her when he speaks louder to get the attention of those who loaf in his class. This professor misses nothing; his eyes are perfectly glued to the back of his head. He has been in the teaching profession for ten years, is brilliant and quite wealthy. His tailor-made, midnight black suits possess an air of intimidation and creates an illusion of height. A day doesn’t pass where he forgets to mention that which is valuable to him; namely his shiny, black, voice activated and responsive Lexus, while adorning his uneven toupee.

“Ms. Muhammad, are we daydreaming again?” Professor Sharks says as the lines across his forehead squeeze tight and his eyebrows droop in a downward slope.

“No, sir. I am paying attention. You were speaking about poverty and how only one percent of America’s households makes one hundred grand or more,” Anika says as

her eyes remain shut.

“That’s correct. Please try to focus more in class,” Professor Sharks says. Before she knows it, her economics class is over and she hurries to her next class.  

CHAPTER 2: DEPRESSION

One of Anika’s best friends, Mary, gives her a call while she is driving home. Mary is first in line for the drama queen award. If there is no drama in her life, she will create it. If drama moves out of her life, she will surely follow, and if her friends are lacking drama, she will give a helping hand. Mary has been Anika’s best friend for six years. She is what most would call a hoochie. She wears large earrings that stretch her earlobes and four-inch rainbow bright nails angled into sharp edged shapes that she paints to match her toes. The dirt on her three-inch heels outline the pattern of her feet and her legs have never been shaved. Somehow, Mary thinks this will attract men. Not only that, but her hair is braided thickly with 100% horse hair and reaches past her waist. She wears skin tight clothing. She goes through more men in one month than most do in a lifetime and somehow this makes Mary think she’s an expert at relationships. The phone rings and Anika answers. “Hello?”

“Hey, what’s up girl? Whatcha up to?” 

“Nothing much, Mary; I’m just coming from class. How about you?”

“I’m not doing much. I got a favor though,” Mary says with insecurity in her voice. “I need a ride to HH Kencler. Can you bring me?”

“Sure, when do you want me to pick you up?”

“As soon as you get a chance.” 

“All right then, I’m on my way.” 

“All right; see you soon.”

Anika reroutes her drive to Mary’s home. Mary is waiting outside Bethel Heights with a few male friends. Music from several apartments is blasting loudly. There’s a smell of marijuana in the air. Children are playing tag through the brown grass and several young men rest against their neighbor’s cars talking about how much money they plan to make.

“What’s up, girl? I’m glad you got here so soon. I can always depend on you,” Mary says beaming. “How are you and your lover man? Are y’all doing all right?”

“We’re doing okay. We have our ups and downs but we’re good.”

“I can’t believe you’re still with him after all he did to you. I would have left him. First, he cheats on you, then he leaves you for another woman, then he kicks you out of his apartment. What’s next? How long have y'all been going together, anyway?”

“Eight years.” 

Mary and her male friends burst out in uncontrollable cackling, causing Anika to feel self-conscious. They all screeched out, “Eight years!”

“You for real? I would have left him. You should leave him. He ain’t nothing! He should have never done those things to you,” Mary says with a look of repulsion across her face.

“After one year you should know whether a man’s good enough to marry. Eight years? He’s using you for sex,” Brian says as he pulls up his sagging pants and passes the rolled-up marijuana joint.

“Somebody that looks as good as you, I would have been married. It doesn’t take eight years to know if you the right one,” Reggie says.

“You’re right. But I’m not going to leave him,” Anika says as she folds her arms in a poised manner. Mary sees the grief on her face.

“You know I’m only trying to help you right?” Mary says. 

Anika replies, “Yeah I know.”

“It’s like this. When a man ain’t doing what he’s supposed to be doing, you got to put him in his place. You want to get married, right?” Mary asks.

“Yeah.”

“Well, you’re not getting any younger; you got to put your foot down and tell him he better marry you because you have been with him for eight years. Eight long years and you’re tired of this mess. If you’re thinking of staying with him, y’all might as well get married. You can have anybody you want and you know that. You are young, attractive, and smart. Forget him. All he’s going to do is cheat on you again. Once a cheat, always a cheat.” Mary slaps her outer thighs.

“He may not cheat again. And I never actually caught him cheating; I just suspected that he was a cheater.”

“You got that right; he may not cheat again, but chances are that he will, and you are worth more than that. You have to find your worth. You don’t have any confidence in yourself; that’s the problem. You have to start standing up for yourself more. You need to get some male balls.”

“Some what?” 

“Some balls.”

“All right, I think I get the point!” Anika’s right palm pushes the air. “You’re contradicting yourself. First you say I need to leave him then you say I need to marry him. What are you trying to say?”

“I’m not offending you, am I? I’m sorry if I am; I was just speaking the truth. You’re crazy if you stay with him,” Mary says as her eyes roll in a disrespectful manner.

“I am not crazy. I love that man. I don’t care what any of you say. I want to marry him, and he will marry me one day.”

“Sure he will,” Brian and Reggie say while laughing and slapping high fives. Anika and Mary step into the Ford. They remain quiet as they pull up to the store and their silence continues the entire time they shop. When they finish, Anika drops Mary off and they say their goodbyes.

Anika is on her way to her mother’s house. She is feeling down because of the conversation with Mary and her friends. She searches different radio stations for the right song that will calm her shaken nerves. Her fingers halt at 95.7, The Beat with Steve Harvey. She arrives at her mother’s house and immediately tells her mother how upset she is, filling her in on the details of what just happened.

Her mother wears a beautiful lilac scarf covering her natural ebony hair. Her dress flows down touching her ankles. Her ankle bracelet and toe ring are the only means to show off her sexuality. Ms. Muhammad has gone through more tragedy in life than most. Her first husband was abusive; Anika’s father. He always accused her of infidelity. When she would arrive home from work, he would check her underwear for signs of cheating. Besides going to work, she could not leave his side. He would verbally abuse and demean her.

“You got to be smarter than a paper bag,” he would say. The first day he struck her was when she was returning from her sister’s birthday party. It was past two in the morning and he accused her of spending the night with another man. She raised her voice for the first time to defend her honor and prove her innocence, but before she could utter another sound, the back of his right hand landed across her cheek.

From that point on, she made plans to live a life on her own. She opened a separate bank account without his knowledge. The funds were automatically drafted from her pay every two weeks. Once she had enough money for her own apartment, she planned to flee. She underestimated her husband’s inquisitive nature and on the day of escape, he shot her twice. Thank God she survived. She also had other misfortunes throughout her life. Life has been challenging for Ms. Muhammad, but she never gives up. She’s high-strung yet will attempt to please others to the point of self-sacrifice.

“Mom, I’m upset and embarrassed. Mary made me look like a fool in front of her friends, telling them how I’ve been with Mosi for eight years and saying I should dump him. I’m not going to listen to her advice; I love that man.” 

Her mother sits up straight in her seat. “You must know who you are and your purpose in life so you will not be so affected by what others say. You must learn how to solve your own problems. One of the reasons I don’t give advice is because it might come back to bite you if it’s not what they want to hear. Besides, most people want you to just listen to them when they have a problem instead of telling them what to do. And I try to stay away from drama at all costs.”

“What do you mean, drama?” Anika questions with a perplexed look on her face trying to fit the puzzle pieces of Ms. Muhammad’s teaching. 

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