Pink Friday

By Sylvia D. Mitchell

Pink Friday tells the story of a young woman who struggles with her identity, self-esteem, abuse, betrayal, and forgiveness. The novel outlines her dramatic and life-changing experiences with her family, and with herself.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sylvia D. Mitchell
• Release date: Sep 18, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301054121

Sylvia D. Mitchell

Sylvia D. Mitchell was born in Mt. Vernon, NY and raised in the Bronx. She says "Being one of fourteen children, I prayed for just an hour to be home alone in peace with my thoughts. For me, writing is personal, peaceful, and private."Her personal achievements as an author and poet for over thirty years became a springboard to write her first book. "Pink Friday" is a novel about a teenager's response to conflict with her battered and bruised spirit. With a glimmer of light, she makes a plan to get away from it all... definitely a much sweeter revenge.Sylvia currently has a successful career in financial services in the New York / New Jersey area. She has two sons, Omari and Kahlil; and four grandchildren; Omari, Malik, Isaiah, and Neriah. She now resides in Brooklyn, NY.

Book preview

PINK FRIDAY

By Sylvia D. Mitchell

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2011 Sylvia D. Mitchell

http://SylviaWrites.com

Cover Design and eBook: Kahlil A. Smith

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

~~~~

Table of Contents

DEDICATION

MANY THANKS

OMARI

Chapter 1 Pink Friday

Chapter 2 Outta Here

Chapter 3 All Aboard

Chapter 4 Home Again

Chapter 5 Summer's End

Chapter 6 Back to School

Chapter 7 Shopping

Chapter 8 School Again

Chapter 9 With Sly

Chapter 10 Victory House

Chapter 11 Picture Day

Chapter 12 The Admiral

Chapter 13 Graduation Day

Chapter 14 Move Out Day

Chapter 15 Freedom

Chapter 16 The Answer

Chapter 17 Later Years

Chapter 18 A Hand Up

Chapter 19 Making Peace

About The Author

~~~~

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to my departed parents; Floyd and Margaret Mitchell, my sons; Omari and Kahlil; and my grands; Omie, Malik, Isaiah and Neriah.

I am so blessed that God has given you as a special gift, for me to love unconditionally, and to leave you a legacy of aspiration, faithfulness to our Lord, and gratitude for His glorious favor.

Love.

~~~~

MANY THANKS

Many, many thanks to my eldest brother, Steve Mitchell, who always gave me a hand up when I needed it.

To my dearest friend, Macy Williams, of 50+ years, whose literary criticism brought this book through its numerous drafts.

To Bryant McInnis, my right-hand buddy, whose inspiration and artistic coaching motivated me to keep writing.

To my sons, Kahlil Smith, for designing the book cover; and Omari Smith, for his beautiful poem.

To my brother, Billy Mr. Apollo Mitchell, for the inspiration in getting my first novel published.

To Darlene Gist and Herb Boyd, who brought Pink Friday from manuscript to my first published book.

Thank you all for your love, friendship, support, and for helping my dream become a reality.

Much Love.

~~~~

OMARI

In my trials and trip-ups through the ages

I realize when you fail and gave it your all

Let the hurt feed you.

When love is lost

Let the lesson teach you.

When kids slip through your grasp

Don't let the future be a result of your past.

Alas! In my last half of the game

A shame! She must have thought while climbing

Looking at the rebel with no cause

Now I thirst for her smile like applause!

To an artist

And her words would say

I'm so proud I birthed life that hot day

And named him Omari.

~~~~

Chapter 1

PINK FRIDAY

-top-

"You girls got boyfriends yet?" No answer came from Carol, as she was in slumber land. Martha was uncomfortable with the question and the subject, coming from a grownup. It was okay to talk like that with Carol, but she didn’t know which way to respond to him.

The Admiral glanced over, noticing Carol was asleep.

Well, cat got your tongue? You were chatty on the bus. Why you acting scared now? She wasn’t used to this, being alone with him. Nobody but them. It felt weird.

They okay, Martha forced out a reply.

She suddenly became aware of the fact that she had on her nightclothes – a pink and blue baby doll set her mother brought from Tremont Avenue, and no bra. Her breasts bounced a lot when she didn’t wear one. Like the day Ms. Taylor saw her jumping rope, and told her mother that her breasts were too big for her age.

Buy that baby a bra, she insisted. Them men is lining up around the block to watch her jump rope. Them things bouncing so high, she gonna give herself black eyes. Self-consciously, she covered up, pulling her knees up to her chest.

You really growing up good. How’s your mama?

"She’s okay.

And your other mama, your big sister Sharon?

She’s okay, too.

We’re alright, so please leave. And what do you mean ‘other mama’? she thought.

Listen, wake Carol up and tell her go get some ice, he ordered after a brief, uncomfortable period of silence.

She’s sleep. I’ll go, she offered.

No, wake her up. You too little to be walking down these corridors by yourself. Carol’s long legs can run fast if somebody’s after her.

We really don’t need ice, Admiral. We can wait 'til the morning.

Girl, he almost yelled, I want ice! Wake up Tall & Lanky and tell her to go get some."

Reluctantly Martha released her knees from her chest and walked over to Carol’s bed. She shook her gently, not really trying to wake her up. Carol came out of her stupor. And Martha repeated the Admiral’s orders through Carol’s protests.

Carol, he looks like he’s getting mad. You better go whispered Martha. As Carol crawled out of bed and threw on her matching Panda Bear bathrobe, the Admiral thanked her.

You a real team player girl. I’m so thirsty; I can drink your dirty bath water. Now go up to the fifth floor. The machine on this floor is broke.

Obeying authority, Carol closed the door behind her.

Come here girl and sit next to me.

I’m okay over here, Admiral, having come back to her position in the chair. Knees held up and close to her chest.

"Oh, come on. I like how you’ve grown. You’re just like a little lady now.

"Thanks Admiral, but I’m watching the show.

You can still see it from here, he patted the right side of her bed.

Martha inched over to the bed, and sat next to him. She could smell the liquor her mother and friends drank when they had card parties at her house.

He put his huge arms around her, and pulled her close to him.

You a beautiful thing.

Martha was nervous and felt even more aware that she was braless, sitting so close to the Admiral. Before the thought had completely cleared her mind, the Admiral slid his gigantic hard hands under the top of her nightie and cupped Martha’s right breast. Nobody had ever done this before, and she was too afraid to say anything.

Oh God, please make him stop, she prayed.

He whispered and was breathing hard, while he squeezed her breasts.

Girl, you beautiful. Don’t talk. Let me touch these fat titties. Oh you feel so good.

All she could do was close her eyes. This is not supposed to happen. This was the Admiral, her friend. Then he took her little baby-like left hand and placed it on his private part. She grabbed it away but he was too strong, and put it back on this big hard thing that she wasn’t supposed to see until years later.

Still squeezing her breast he murmured Touch it baby. Make it feel good. You make the Admiral hard. You know that.

Please hurry back. Carol, please hurry back before something happens, she silently begged her friend.

Her nightmare coming true, the Admiral became a groping, pulling, breathing monster. Within what appeared to be two seconds, he overpowered her 85 lb. frame. What are you doing? What did I do to make him think I wanted this? Fear, confusion, consumed her. Tiny, breathless screams, questions, escaped her lungs, as he deeply exhaled, simultaneously attempting kisses on her face as she squirmed in defense. Whispering unintelligible words in her ears, he pulled, he groped, he whispered. Why was he doing this? I’m just fourteen years old. Stop, stop.

The Admiral was on top of her. His thick, strong fingers were working their way down inside her favorite Pink panties, with ‘Friday’ stitched on them, denoting the day of the week. Pulling forcefully, he ripped the lace trimming around her left leg, and ruining them.

Please don’t Admiral....I won’t tell nobody...please.

Girl you drive me crazy. Let Admiral give it to you.

Martha started to whimper. She wasn’t sure if it was his groans of pleasure, or her whimpering she was hearing in her ears. His hands, his big hands and fingers were spreading her legs open now.

Open up girl. He breathed. I’m not going to hurt you."

She tried to keep her legs closed, but he was too strong. Martha was sobbing now, and could hear her own voice and pleas for him to stop. He yanked open her legs and moved his hands up and down the inside of her thighs.

The Admiral’s going to get you ready. Don’t you tell nobody. You gonna be my baby. It’s not going to hurt.

And at that moment, he shoved his fingers deep into her, sending her into a dark, sharp, painful, oblivion. She let out a shriek.

Girl, what’s wrong with you? he whispered. Stop that yelling before you wake people up. The Admiral’s gonna make you feel good. I told you I’m not going to hurt you. You old enough."

Admiral please stop. It hurts.

I know baby, it’s gonna hurt a little, but I’m getting it ready. You better not let nobody do this but me. You hear?

I don’t want you to.

Why? Did my fingers hurt so much? It’s gonna get you ready.

Yes, but I’m not ready, she replied, still crying but somehow less afraid. Almost trusting him not to hurt her.

Let me kiss it for you.

Martha tried to pull up her panties, as he released the crush of his weight on her. They were stretched out and lifeless.

Ah ah, baby. Lay down. You gonna feel better now.

He then pushed her back on the bed, spread open her legs and began to lick her slowly. She laid still, not knowing if she was supposed to like this, and ashamed that she almost did. It was like when she saw Poochie’s dog licking himself. It seemed disgusting, but she thought it probably felt good.

Martha was confused. Why did he say she was ready? What did it mean, anyway?

All of these thoughts raced through her mind as the Admiral continued to touch, lick, and breathe harder and harder on top of her. Martha’s body went limp as she gave up her fight, and prayed for it to be over soon.

You taste good, girl, he breathed huskily as he raised himself up. He stood up wobbly and began to unbuckle his pants. Martha’s panic set in. Please don’t let him do it to me. It’s gonna hurt. Please. Please.

You liked it?

I don’t know, Admiral.

Loud, insistent banging on the room door jolted him off her.

Who is it? the Admiral boomed, as