Custom Made Straight Jacket

By Johnna b

You are more than the innocence that was taken from you.

More than the blood stains nestled between the fibers of your sheets,

or the smell of sweat that won't wash off your skin.

Your silenced voice is stronger than the loud grunts, echoing in your ears.

Your life is more than the nightmares you see with your open eye, or shadows that haunt you at night.

One day, you will be more than the dreams you have closed your eyes to, or laughter that has been stolen,

cursing you with eternal tears. And your life won't always be the trauma that has been your story…...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Johnna b
• Release date: Jan 1, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393090953

Johnna b

Johnna B is a St. Louis Missouri native. She Ascertained a passion for reading and writing at an early age. She currently has 7 novels and 2 short stories, 4 are published under her own publishing company Watch My Journey Publications: Sins of Destruction, Wydow Maker, P.O.V “Point of view” and Sex on the Rox(short story). She combined her talent with two other St. Louis Authors and Co-wrote Smitten Kitten.  Recently signed to Urban books: Titles Beautiful Nightmare and Vengeance “A never ending nightmare.” Under Write2eat publishing she has one novella: Title Wicked Deceptions. She is also featured in Anna J’s Snapshots Volume 6. Johnna decided to give the world a glimpse into her own imaginative thoughts, and become a part of the literary world. She is at hard work on her next novel.

Book preview

Copyright 2020 Johnna B

Cover Designed by Shadress Denise

Published by Watch My Journey Publications LLC

Editor Brenda Hampton

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without prior written consent from both the author and publisher Watch My Journey Publications, except brief quotes used in reviews, interviews or magazines. This is a work of fiction. It is not meant to depict, portray or represent any particular real person. All the characters, incidents and dialogue in this written work are the product of the author’s imagination and are not to be considered as real. Any references or similarities to actual events, entities, real people living or dead, or to real locations are intended for the sole purpose of giving this novel a sense of reality. Any similarities with other names, characters, entities, places, people or incidents are entirely coincidental.

This book contains graphic

details regarding rape, violence

pedophilla, and abuse. If you are a survivor read with caution.

My Forever Angel..........Dana G.

I AM

I am a girl who has been battered and abused. A woman whose heart has been broken too many times to count. A girl who has been raped, humiliated and dragged through the dirt. I am a woman who has cried more days of her life than smiled. A girl who lost faith many, many moons ago. A girl who prayed for life to end. A woman who traded her faith in God to be with the devil. A girl who never understood the reason for such burdens to be placed on a child. A woman who has fallen many times over but refused to lay there in the mud. A girl who has been judged and condemned by her peers. A woman who smiles in the face of her enemies. A girl whose hopes and dreams rested on the shoulders of Man. A woman who learned that faith in Man can do nothing but bring more pain. I am a woman who has been brought down to her knees, begging for someone, anyone up in the sky to hear her prayers. I am a woman who REALIZED I am a survivor, I am a lover, an inspiration, a believer, and a witness. I AM A WOMAN AND I THANK GOD EVERYDAY THAT...

I AM

Johnna B

DEDICATIONS

I dedicate this book to everyone who has come and gone in my life. IF you even made the smallest impact on my life, this one's for you. If you are still here in my life to watch my journey and transformation, this one's for you. If you are no longer in my life, but helped make me the woman I am today, this one's for you. No matter the magnitude of your involvement, I truly appreciate you from the bottom of my heart.

CHAPTER ONE

Sorry I never told you, all I wanted to say

Now it's too late to hold you, 'cause you've flown away

So far away...........Nathan Morris

My Greatest Heartbreak

It was Friday, the week before we were scheduled to leave for New York. Me and my husband, Wayno, decided to celebrate our six-year wedding anniversary. I was hyped because I had just signed a book deal under my favorite author’s publishing company. I had been stalking K’wan about signing me, and when he made a decision to sign new authors, I jumped on it. I was one of the select few he’d chosen. He was throwing a gathering for the authors he had signed; I was super excited about my first gathering in the book industry. I wasn’t sure what I’d wear to the event, but after I browsed some of the nice pieces of clothing in my closet, I plopped on the bed and reached for my cell phone so I could remind my mother about my trip. For as long as I could remember, she had been my biggest supporter. The second she answered her phone, a wide smile crept on my face. Hearing her sweet voice always did something to me.

What’s up, D Gizzle? I said, calling her by one of the many nicknames I used.

Nothing. What’s up, chic? You ready for New York? I could hear the excitement in her voice and predicted that her smile was as wide as mine.

Yes and no, I confessed with a slight roll of my eyes. I was a little bothered that my husband was going, because even though we were celebrating our anniversary, if something wasn’t all about him he would ruin it.

No? You should be excited! My mother yelled. She always did her best to cheer me up. My li’l Stephanie King is about to blow up!

She had branded me that name, once I started writing. It always warmed my heart to hear her call me that, especially since I knew Stephen King was her all-time favorite author.

I’m good. I just hope Wayno don’t get to New York acting like a miserable Betty.

She laughed and spoke bluntly. Girl, fuck him.

Ma! That ain’t nice.

I know that's your husband, but you know how I feel. Can’t nobody say nothing about his big head ass, but you know I’mma always speak my mind. I want you to enjoy this trip. Don’t let nothing ruin it, and I want to hear all about it when you get back. I still can’t believe my baby writing books! Then again, yes I can because you can do whatever you choose to do.

I didn’t think my smile could get any wider, but it did. Her words eliminated my concerns. She was the only person who could ease my tension with the snap of a finger. I thanked her, and as I started to tell her about my new phone boo, I lay sideways on the bed and tucked a pillow between my legs. Wayno gon’ always be Wayno, but let me tell you about me and my li’l long distance boo thang honey.

Boo thang? Now you trying to act like my daughter, she said, laughing. So did I. I can hear the enthusiasm in your voice, but calm down and fill me in.

Well, there ain’t anything major happening between us, but he’s someone who is hella cool. We talk about everything under the sun.

Talk is cheap. Get to the good stuff. When is you getting in the drawls?

I slapped my hand over my mouth and cracked up. First off, no ma’am! That’s not where me and your conversation is going. I said we were just phone buddies and he ain’t nothing like Wayno. 

That’s good to know, but please stop acting like I don’t read your books. I know you a ho just like ya daddy. Hell, I cheated on that nigga every day of my marriage with his ho ass.

I shook my head as she laughed hysterically. It felt good to hear her laugh, because like me, she had been to hell and back with this nigga bullshit, too.

Momma, will you stop laughing and listen before your son-in-law comes home.

Her laughing stopped and tone became more serious. I don’t need specific details about your boo thang.  I’m just happy you got a bright side opening up in your life right now.

Before I could respond, I heard a door shut. I quickly sat up on the bed and released a deep sigh.

Johnna Renee! I heard him say. I cringed as I listened to his footsteps getting closer to our bedroom. And as he stood in the doorway, with his hooded eyes connected to mine, it reminded me how much I despised him.

Who the fuck you talking to? he barked through gritted teeth.

I ignored him and cleared my throat.

That nigga must be home, my mother said. Seemed like all of the energy had drained from her voice, as it had done mine. 

Yeah, momma, I’ll call you back.

Okay. I love you, daughter.

Love you too, mother.

Never in my worst nightmare could I have known that would be the last time I would hear my mother’s voice. If I had known, I would have never hung up the phone. I would have gone straight to her house and lay in bed with her. I would have been there to protect her. I would have died with her, if that would have been an option.

When Saturday came, I was running around trying to make sure we had everything for our trip. Wayno seemed to be in a better mood, but I was sure it wouldn’t last for long. The littlest thing could trigger him. He was like dynamite, waiting to explode. Nonetheless, we were six years into our marriage and I was either on the brink of saying fuck it or trying to figure out a way to make things work. I just wasn’t sure, but I knew something had to change.

Saturday turned into Sunday, and when I woke up that morning, something felt strange. My plans were to head to the mall so I could find another pair of shoes, but it felt like I was moving in slow motion. It took me forever to get dressed, and as I drove back to the mall, I stared at the road ahead in a daze. Rap music thumped through the speakers, but instead of bobbing my head and spilling the lyrics like I normally did, I was silent. My lips felt glued together, face was in a frown for no apparent reason. My sweaty palms gripped the steering wheel and there was a knot in my stomach that felt like somebody was pulling it.  The reason why this was happening didn’t dawn on me until I was in the fitting room, trying on a pair of shorts. That’s when I got a phone call from my uncle’s ex, Tyra, who I considered my aunt.

Hey, auntie, what’s up? I said, twisting and turning while struggling to pull the shorts over my hips.

Johnna, you need to get to your mom’s house, she spoke frantically. That girl done set the house on fire with your momma in it."

In an instant, I froze. My mouth opened, but I couldn’t speak. A tingly feeling started at my feet and spread through my body like a virus that made me ill.  I was numb and as I stood for a few more seconds, trying to let what she had said register, I started to hear her more clearly.

What the fuck do you mean? I yelled with a tight grip on my phone. Where the hell is my momma?

Ju—just get to the house as soon as you can.

She hung up, and I stood for a few more seconds, trying to process everything she’d said. My chest heaved in and out and my head started spinning in circles. I was so dizzy that when I yanked the shorts off, I almost lost my balance. My legs were so weak—I could barely stand to put my clothes back on. When I finished, I snatched my purse and stormed out of the fitting room like a bat out of hell.

Ma’am, did those items work for you? the sales associate said.

I didn’t reply. I ran towards the exit doors and jumped in my car. Once my foot hit the accelerator, the car skidded off the parking lot. I was moving fast, and through a very blurred vision, I weaved in and out of traffic. With one hand on the steering wheel, I fumbled through my purse to get my phone and call my husband. Thankfully, he answered.

Meet me at my momma’s house as soon as you can. There’s been a fire and I don’t know where she’s at.

Saying those words tore at my soul. My stomach hurt so bad I wanted to vomit. I kept telling myself this wasn’t happening and everything would be okay. But then, I’d thought about my feelings from earlier. A flood of tears rushed to the brim of my eyes, before spilling over. Even in that moment, I wanted to be tough like my mother had always taught me to be. I quickly smacked away my tears and then released several deep breaths.

I’m on my way there, Wayno said. Leaving work now. 

During the longest twenty minutes of my life, I called my aunts Tiffany and Daphne to tell them what I’d heard.

Johnna, nooooo! Where is your momma? I know she isn’t in that house, is she?

My aunts kept saying the same thing over and over, but I sat in shock without saying another word. My eyes were focused on crowds of people in the streets, standing around talking, pointing and shaking their heads. Since it was difficult to get on the street where my mom’s house was, I parked my car and slowly exited.  My heart thumped hard against my chest. A sheen of sweat covered my forehead and my legs weakened by the minute. Nearly everyone’s eyes shifted to me. That’s when I saw my cousins. They appeared reluctant to say anything, but as I moved down the street like I was walking on air, the house finally came into my view. My knees buckled; I struggled to keep my balance. One half of the house looked like it had been blown up and a cloud of thick black smoke filled the air. I shifted my head from side-to-side, crying out for my momma.

Where is she? I screamed and pounded my fists against my legs. Everyone just stared and no one would answer me. Where is my fuckin’ momma?

I was ready to hurt somebody . . . anybody. But she had to be in the crowd somewhere. I just couldn’t see her because there were so many people standing around.

Momma! I shouted as I rushed towards her house. Tears stung my eyes, but I was hopeful that she had somehow or someway gotten out alive.

Come on, momma! Move out the way so I can find my momma!

I shoved several people standing in my way. That’s when one of my cousins grabbed me and spun me around to face her. Pain was in her eyes, and with a scrunched face, she held my shoulders.

Johnna, co—

I quickly cut her off. Where is my momma? Have you seen her out here? 

I wasn’t trying to stand around and talk to nobody. I needed to get to her. She needed me. I knew she needed me to be with her.

She’s at Barnes Hospital, somebody yelled out.

At that moment, I pushed my cousin away from me and rushed back to my car.

Johnna, waaaaait! I heard someone else say, but why didn’t my cousin just tell me my momma was at the hospital?

The second I got in the car, my cell phone was ringing. I snatched it up, believing it was my momma. Instead, it was my cousin. I was annoyed by the way she hesitated, but I finally heard her words loud and clear.

Johnna, your mom didn’t make it. The coroner took her to the hospital.

I slammed on the brakes so I wouldn’t crash into the car in front of me. My heart pounded against my chest, and I released a deafening scream that echoed throughout my car. Why, why, why? I shouted and pounded my fist against the steering wheel. I wanted to throw a tantrum, but I grabbed my stomach and pulled over for a few minutes to think. The words she didn’t make it kept repeating in my head, but I still couldn’t believe it. I refused to believe this, and somebody needed to tell me where the fuck my momma was at! No way in hell would I or could I accept this. I had just spoken to her and this was not how her life was supposed to end. Fuck that . . . I needed some answers.

My vision was so blurred—it was a miracle I had made it to the hospital. My Aunt Shonettda, Uncle Rony and Wayno stood outside the entrance. Nothing but sorrow rested in their eyes. It seemed like no one wanted to face me.

Is my momma in there? My eyes shifted from one person to the next. I wanted so badly for somebody to tell me she was inside and that everything was okay, but that didn’t happen. My uncle walked inside and returned seconds later with a police officer behind him. His words sliced through my soul.

Ma’am, I need someone to identify the body.

I looked around at everyone, but there was dead silence. My legs wobbled, but before I fell, I felt someone’s arms around me. I stared at the police officer, feeling like I had just been run over by a Mack truck. Identify the body? I thought. Identify the body? What body? Not my momma's!  Was I in denial, confused . . . what was happening?

What’chu mean, identify the body? I shook my head as my anger grew by the seconds. Why would the police officer say that? How in the hell could I identify a body that wasn’t even my mother’s?

I can go do it, Johnna, my uncle said.

I sucked in several deep breaths and looked at him. No. I will.

If she was gone, I needed to see her. I needed to touch her. I needed to be near her. She was alone, lying somewhere looking for me. I knew she was wondering where I was. She had to be asking the doctors where her daughter was, wasn’t she? Forget what all these people were talking about. My mommy was NOT dead! I’mma show all of them. The lies, lies, lies. Why would I need to identify her body when she could tell them her name herself?

I swallowed the huge lump in my throat and straightened my spine as I walked down the long, narrow hallway with my husband and the police officer. The strong smell of Pinesol infused the air, and as numerous doctors and nurses moved around, I felt like all eyes were on me. I was eager to see my momma, just so she could look me in the eyes and tell me they had all been dead wrong. More than anything in my life, I needed for her to tell me she was okay.

As we approached a room in the far back, the police officer turned and looked at me without a blink.  This is a murder investigation so you can’t touch her.

My mouth dropped open, but no words followed. Before I could respond, he turned the knob on the door and walked in. I stood as if my feet were covered with cement, still very confused.

"What—who was murdered? I asked in a high pitch. Did he say a murder investigation?" 

My mind started racing again. Nah, this ain’t happening.  Not my mommy, not my Dana. Why would anyone want to hurt her? She’d never done nothing to nobody. This had to be a mix up.

With a somber look etched on his face, the officer waited for me to enter the room. When I did, my eyes focused on the bed. There was something underneath the white clean sheet but it wasn’t my momma. Thank God it wasn’t her. He had finally answered my prayers, and after all I’d been through, it was about time. I was in the wrong room—my momma was somewhere else waiting for me. They needed to stop playing because this shit wasn’t even real. That’s what I’d thought, until the police officer eased the sheet back. I felt a hard punch to my stomach, and as my mind went blank and my screams exploded, I doubled over in insurmountable pain. Wayno locked his arms around me, but I scurried away from his grip and tried to jump on the bed with my momma. The tears I had been trying to hold back flooded my eyes and ran down my face like rain. I kept reaching out to grab my momma, but each time I tried, she just slipped away.

Let me gooooooo! I yelled and scratched at my husband’s arms, peeling back skin. He wouldn’t release me. The officer wouldn’t release me, not even when I punched his chest. Why wouldn’t they let me get to her? Why couldn’t I touch my mother? She needed me! Why didn’t they understand this?

I swung wildly, until my arms got limp. I was exhausted. And when I fell to my knees, I still felt Wayno’s arms around me.

Who did this to her! Why would they do this, damn, why in the fuck did this happen!

As Wayno rocked me in his arms, so much throbbing pain rushed throughout my body. It felt like somebody had a bat, beating it against me. I jumped after each blow and my mind was spinning so fast that I didn’t know how long I’d been in the room with my momma’s body. I did, however, know that I would never be the same after this. This would change me forever. I felt broken into a million-and-one tiny pieces. To say I was devastated would be an understatement. The word was . . . dark. I slipped into a darkness and didn’t know what I could do to ever see lightness again.

I soon found out that my mother had been murdered by someone she had been nothing but nice to. Damn, that was fucked up and it left me feeling like I couldn’t trust no one. My mother’s smile and laughter had been stopped