Beautiful Darkness by Maurice Mitchell (easy books to read in english TXT) 📕

I wouldn’t utter a sound in the process. Even though I was only 12 years old at the time I understood a lot more then I realized. I understood that what I was experiencing wasn’t normal and I understood that I needed to find a way out. However, what I didn’t understand is how and why a man would do such harsh things to his child. A child that he decided to bring into this world, a child that needed him more then ever. In a way I felt as if I deserved it, as if it was my fault. I think a lot of people who are abused, feel this way. Abusive individuals have a way of making you feel as if their insecurities are drawn about by the way you handle yourself. I felt as if I had done something to deserve this and was simply being punished. Consequently, I never told anyone, I kept it mostly to myself for years. I cried out in my own little ways with subtle hints and subliminal messages, but no one ever caught on. In a way I didn’t want them to, I was young but I knew how this ugly situation could become a lot worse. I knew if my Parents or my Grandmother found out about some of the things this man was doing his days would be numbered. I didn’t want anyone else to suffer due to the lack of sanity in this man, I figured I was already one person too many. So I kept to myself. To this day in fact, I’ve released bits of it at times but never as much as what’s in this book, and even what’s in this book is only the half the story. Its enough though, enough for me to gain some type of closure and feel some sense of redemption. I’ve never felt as light as I do now and I’m glad. The one thing I still worry about to this day though is his relationship with his wife.

Vanessa was sweet, she was a blessing while I was there and I don’t know that I could of made it without her. She had that warm feeling, and I really needed that at the time. She was a short, classy, dark-skinned woman with a great sense of humor. I remember she had the nicest smile and would light up a room whenever I told a joke. I miss that, I felt a connection with her, almost as if we were two people trapped inside the same painful experience. I leaned on her for support and love when I needed it, and when she gave both it was genuine. Their relationship never seemed genuine to me and I always felt as if she feared leaving. I could have been wrong in sensing that, but that’s just the way it felt to me. I experienced many sleepless nights due their late night arguing and fighting. I’ll never forget one night it seemed like they fought the entire night. I remember laying in my dark room, it must have been about 3 or 4 o clock at night. There was yelling, screaming, shoving and I could hear them tussling and breaking things. I figured it was another one of his drunken rages, which would end in a few broken dishes and promises. The fight seemed to never stop and I don’t think I got more then an hour or two of sleep that night. When I woke up that morning I remember walking into the kitchen and it smelled like blood and flesh. I don’t know if the description of that smell makes sense, but it’s very similar to the smell of a hospital, which is a smell I absolutely hate. The scene was unforgettable, there was blood everywhere and knives scattered across the floor. There might have been a hole in the wall and you could just tell by the scene that a fight took place. The funny thing is after seeing it, I turned right back around and went back into my room as if nothing happen. In that house, these types of things had become the norm and I learned not to make a big deal out of anything that didn’t concern me. So to this day, they never mentioned anything about that bloody kitchen on that bloody night, and neither did I. I still have no idea who the receiver was in that blood bath, I could only hope it wasn’t the person whom probably deserved it least.

Chapter 12 (Love Never Lost)

I struggled with a lot of trust and love issues after living in Virginia, I lost a lot of love for a lot of things. Most importantly I lost my love for family and for life. See the abuse from my Father drained out all of the love I previously experienced with the other side of my family. I couldn’t remember past all of the dark days I’d just experienced. The entire year that I was there was pretty much more of the same. A lot of dark days with a few sunny ones in between. I think I blocked a lot of that year our for my sanity, unfortunately I couldn’t block out enough to escape the hatred as well. As it turns out my love for life and everything else for that matter would never be the same. My lost of love for family wasn’t all my Fathers fault though, my Grandfather played a factor in that as well. See to my understanding my Grandfather is rich, and sadly I don’t know his first name. He’s a tall, slim, brown skinned man with a mini afro. Always keeps his hair on point, reminded me of Steve Harvey, when Steve had hair. He lived very close to my Father and I can count the amount of times I’ve seen him on one hand. There was no surprise there really, he had no relationship with my Father or my Uncle when they were kids either. It wasn’t until they were grown that he came back into their lives and bought them off as his way of apologizing for his parental negligence. See I now understand that that side of my family is backwards and simply don’t understand the meaning of being a family. In his eyes, I have never attempted to develop a relationship with him. Why would I? I don’t know him. As a parent or a grandparent, it will always be your responsibility to reach out and develop a relationship with your children or grandchildren. After all, no child asked to be here. How you could possibly believe that it is the kids responsibility to reach out to you as an adult is beyond me. Nonetheless, that’s where he stood as a man, which was just one of the many reasons I found it hard to respect him. See my Father always told me I should reach out to him, develop a relationship with him so he can help me with my finances. Maybe pay off my college tuition or buy my first car as he did for them. I could never, see that’s the difference between my Father and I, I don’t have a price. I stand on my own and have a clear understanding that love should be earned and not purchased. While the thought of that may be appealing to the average man, to me its merely a cover up for a man to clear his constantly nagging conscious. I’d rather die on my feet then live on my knees, besides I’m worth more then he could ever afford. Whether my Grandfather ‘s views upon being a Grandfather are commendable is subjective, however the fact remains it slanted my opinion upon family. I started to believe at this point that family wasn’t worth much. I had a Father who tried to kill me and a Grandfather who acted as if getting to know me was beneath him. If nothing else at least the men in my family weren’t worth much, that was when my view on men changed, forever.

With all the love that was lost, I did manage to pick up on a love that would change my life forever. In most cases it would undoubtedly be a woman, but in mine it was more. In the dark I found my second talent, in the dark I found my light, In the dark, I found….my music. See all that time my Father had been putting his hands on me, I was putting my own hands to use. I wrote until words filled up every single page in my notebook. I begin writing about everything I would experience, the good as well as the bad. It started out as just thoughts, which eventually lead to poems, which eventually led to rhymes. The more I wrote the better I felt. I remember just the thought of my Father coming home made me sick to my stomach, I used to get knots in my stomach every time I heard the garage door open. That was a feeling I dealt with every single day. It seemed like nothing else could soothe that feeling. I never felt safe until I locked myself in the bathroom and wrote until my hands hurt. Eventually my writing became more then a hobby, it became a passion. Music did more then give me something to look forward to, it kept me sane. In a way, I felt so long as I could put my thoughts on paper, everything I’d experienced to that point wasn’t in vain. Somewhere, at some point, someone would listen to my thoughts, and that was enough, I was content. The one thing I knew was that I loved writing, and I knew I was pretty damn good at, But how good? I had no idea.

Chapter 13 (Family Reunion)

After my seventh grade school year I immediately told my Mother I wanted to come back home. She was excited to have me back, but no where near as excited as I was. I was happy to be leaving my Father and all those dark experiences behind. The problem was the damage was done and I would never be able to look at my father in the same light. I felt as if it would have been better if he just remained out of my life, rather then actually attempt to be there and do what he did. Nonetheless I was gone and trying to close that chapter in my life. So there I was, in another new state, trying to adjust once more. This time I took my show on the road and headed to Denver, Colorado. What a difference. I felt it as soon as I landed, higher altitude and thinner air. More trees and less black people; more money…more problems. It was a beautiful place though, nothing like anything I’d ever experienced before. I remember seeing mountains in person for the first time and being blown away. I was so close I could see the snow still on the mountains in the summer time, that was crazy to me. Colorado was definitely the biggest adjustment I’d had to make up to that point in my life, it was nothing like what I was used to, I mean nothing. The good thing was I was back with family, my real family. My parents just had another baby, so I was welcomed home by another little sister. That was the best part, growing up with my Sisters was great. I had a great relationship with both of them. We grew up together and learned from each other. Ultimately it would be my Sisters who would teach me how to love again, and that was something that would continue to occur. The one thing my Father did do, was help me appreciate the man that was currently in