Deep Dark Secrets: A Story About the Secret Lust of a Young Black Man

By Morei Robinson

Deep Dark Secrets is about a young African American man who grew up in a broken home and was molested at a very young age. Trying to find himself to put the pieces of his life together, the main character, Curtis Raheem Miller, finds that he may be attracted to men. While trying to fit in, Curtis tries to hide his sexuality by being one of the boys, dating women but also exploring his sexuality with many different men. Curtis later marries and has children. He then finds it difficult to continue living a lie, especially when he starts losing friends and seeing his lifestyle for what it really was. After years of depression, promiscuity, coming close to death, and losing friends, Curtis comes to a real low point in his life. Will Curtis remain married and stay with his family, or will he continue with his secret, down-low lifestyle, putting his wife and children in danger?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Sep 2, 2009
• ISBN: 9781441575708

Morei Robinson

Born in Washington DC, Morei Robinson has a degree in applied communication with a minor in sociology. Morei has traveled the country collecting stories of real-life situations from individuals who have lived various, exciting, and intriguing lifestyles, giving us his first novel, Deep Dark Secrets. In Deep Dark Secrets, Morei strives to bring consciousness to various social issues that are only whispers in the black community. Morei is a visionary, and in his novels to come will strive to make each one educational, yet exciting. Morei is an emerging talent and is ready to share it with the world.

Book preview

Deep Dark Secrets

A Story about the Secret Lust

of a Young Black Man

Morei Robinson

Copyright © 2009 by Morei Robinson.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted

in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including

photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval

system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

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63703

Contents

INTRODUCTION

CHAPTER 1

Family Dysfunctions

CHAPTER 2

School Days

CHAPTER 3

The College Years

CHAPTER 4

Brandon

CHAPTER 5

Craig

CHAPTER 6

Marquis

CHAPTER 7

The Addiction

CHAPTER 8

Two’s Company, Five’s a Gang Bang?

CHAPTER 9

The Surprise

CHAPTER 10

Church Queens

CHAPTER 11

Asia

CHAPTER 12

Unfathomable

CHAPTER 13

Xavier

CHAPTER 14

The Life Revealed

CHAPTER 15

Reconciliation

REFLECTIONS: A PERSONAL NOTE FROM CURTIS RAHEEM MILLER

A PERSONAL NOTE FROM MOREI

DEDICATION

I am grateful to Almighty God for all the blessings he’s bestowed upon me. I am thankful for everyone who has encouraged me to write this story, you know who you are. To all the ones who have struggled trying to find yourselves and to those of you who are trying to find your place in society; to all the ones who have stood behind your loved ones, loving them through their struggles; to my family and pastor who has stood by me and influenced my life—I dedicate this book to you. May God bless you and keep you.

In Memory of Ryan, Luis, E, Monique

and my inspiration, Mr. E. Lynn Harris.

INTRODUCTION

This book is based on the true story of a young African American man who struggled with his identity, masculinity, spirituality, and sexuality. After being molested at a young age by an uncle, Curtis Raheem Miller struggles to make sense of his life. In this book, Curtis will take you on his life’s journey from childhood to adulthood, revealing intimate details about his life and dealings with women and other men. The characters contained in this book are real people with whom we come in contact with on a daily basis. Some of the characters mentioned possess personalities of people we interact with—people in our families and people we share life’s stage with. This novel is based on a true story, but has been fictionalized. My hope is to help people that have struggled to bring peace to their lives. For those of you reading this book, let this serve as entertainment and also as a lesson. Sometimes we wish that somehow we could have been shielded from certain circumstances in our lives and somehow prevented a bad thing from happening. Let this story be a lesson to you. Learn from the characters in this book so that you will not go or continue to go down the wrong road. This is truly a story that will take you on an emotional roller coaster, so go ahead to chapter one as Curtis begins his story.

CHAPTER 1

Family Dysfunctions

I am thirty-four years old, and I’m dying! The old me is diminishing and the new me emerging. It hurts for me and for others to see me in this condition, but it’s probably for the best. Let me take you to when it all started. I was the product of two high school sweethearts who thought they were in love, but was actually lusting for one another as young people do. My father was captain of the football team at his high school, and my mother was an ambitious beauty queen, attending the same school. My father stood about six feet and two inches tall with a muscular build, dark brown glassy eyes, and a medium brown complexion. My mother would have made you think of Halle Berry. She was about five feet and four inches, had a light brown complexion with beautiful big hazel brown eyes, and with a figure that would make you want her or want to be her.

I was born April 9, 1975, at approximately 1:03 a.m. in Haddock, Georgia, a small country town an hour outside of Atlanta. The population at the time was less than two thousand people, and you could see fields of green grass for miles. I was born in Oconee Regional Medical Center. I was the perfect mixture of my mother and father. I had my father’s complexion and my mother’s beautiful big hazel eyes. I also had a head full of thick, curly black hair, truly the perfect baby.

Now my parents were never married, so my father wasn’t around when I was born. He didn’t even know my mom was pregnant. Dad went off to the military after high school and stayed in Germany for a few years. My mother remained in Georgia. When my mother found out that she was pregnant, she immediately notified my dad. He wanted her to get an abortion because he was not ready to be a father. Of course, being a handsome young man, he wanted to play the field. My mother, being the strong woman she is, defied my father’s wishes and had me anyway. Needless to say, she broke it off with my father and went on with her life, trying not to focus on her broken heart.

My mother ended up dating again and, a year later, had a beautiful baby girl. Again, my mother was left with a broken heart and another baby to take care of. She worked her fingers to the bone to make sure that my sister and I always had a roof over our heads, clothes on our backs and food on the table. At the age of twenty-three, my mother was a proud homeowner taking care of two kids by herself, she didn’t allow her mishaps to hold her back. She was strong and independent. My mother worked as a cook in the hospital where I was born and wanted badly to make a good life for her and her children, so she worked long grueling hours. My mother saved her money and bought the house that she loves. It was her reward for working hard and she now had a place that she could call home with her children. My mother also tried to embrace Christian values and wanted to instill them into her children. She did not wallow in self-pity after making her mistakes. She accepted her responsibility and tried to do right by her children. Her strong faith in God got her through until she eventually married when I was about three years old to a man who she felt loved her and her children. My mother met my new dad through a friend of the family. He was a Christian man with old fashioned beliefs. He wooed her by talking about God, his dreams and aspirations. My mother felt that he would be a good husband and a good father to her children.

My mother was the fourth child out of sixteen siblings, and she helped to raise them, so rearing children was not new to her. For my sister and me, she was a patient and dedicated mother. Tough economic times forced her and my stepfather to work endlessly. My mother put in twelve hour days at her job and my stepdad worked long hours as an auto mechanic just to make ends meet. This killed my mother because she wanted to be at home raising her children, but she couldn’t, so my grandmother kept my sister and me while she worked. My grandmother was a strong disciplinarian, but very loving and had a sense of humor. I was one of her older grandchildren and one of her favorites. My grandmother loved my thick curly locks of hair and used to say that I was so pretty that I should have been a girl. She would often braid my hair and put me in dresses to see what I looked like just to joke around. One day, my mother walked in and saw my hair braided with hair bows in it and just about lost it. She asked my grandmother never to dress me like a little girl again. Little did I know that at the time, my future was being developed just by my grandmother playing around, dressing me like a little girl and putting hair bows in my hair!

Now Na-Na (my grandmother) was a heavy set light skinned woman with salt and pepper hair, and a heavy voice that could shake the earth when she called your name. She was full of energy and had her hands full, not only with my sister and me but all of her children who were not out of the house, being that she had soooo many! My grandmother had a ranch-style brick house with five small bedrooms. The house sat on two acres of land so there was plenty of yard for us to play in. In this tiny brick house, my grandmother managed to raise sixteen children and some of their children, she truly loved her family. She had to, Na-Na was still having babies when her children were having babies. She and my grandpa started producing children by the age of fifteen and she kept having them up until her early forties. Na-Na always had a house full of aggravating kids, but she managed to show us all a little attention.

My family was very strange. Because some of my uncles and aunts are only a few years older than me, they thought they could boss me around and beat up on me. They used to aggravate me to the point that I would cry until I lost my breath. When Na-Na had had enough of us carrying on, she would make everybody go outside or sit the younger kids down to watch the soaps with her. Because of that, I knew everything about All My Children and One Life to Live before I even went to kindergarten. Now that was early childhood education.

I loved Na-Na dearly; she was the best grandmother, and she could cook her ass off! She had her daughters in the kitchen like they were working on an assembly line when preparing meals for our large family. They would be in that hot kitchen wiping beads of sweat off their foreheads. A window fan would be blowing to help them stay cool as they sweated and slaved to prepare a feast for the family. Na-Na was very busy trying to keep house and trying hard to keep up with all of us. My Paw-Paw (grandfather) was a tall, thin dark skinned man with a broad nose, big ears and wore an afro with sideburns at the time . He was a quiet man that did not like to be bothered with kids (I guess he had too many). He worked long shifts and came home drunk most of the time. He would get off work and get drunk with some of his buddies as a stress reliever and then come home and climb on top of my grandmother (hence all their children). A lot of times we kids had to entertain ourselves because the grown-ups were too busy to deal with us.

One summer afternoon, it was blistering hot outside. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, so the sun was just baking us. We were all out playing basketball, hopscotch, dodgeball, and slip and slide on plastic garbage bags we had cut and sprayed down with a water hose. I played so hard and long that the sun had gone down, so my mother just let me stay the night at my Na-Na’s house. After I had my bath, I went to sleep in the room with my uncles. That night, my life changed forever! I had the most horrifying experience that no child should ever have to go through. One of my uncles started playing with my private parts and rubbed his penis against my butt. I was only four years old! I didn’t know what the hell was going on. I got scared so I just continued to lie there and allowed it to happen. My uncle placed a smelly, mildewed pillow over my face when I started to cry. I was frightened! I never told anyone what happened to me out of fear that I would get in trouble or get a beating. I carried this incident with me for a long time. I was no longer a normal child. My innocence had been ripped from me! This horrible experience caused me to latch on to my mother. I hated when she would go off to work and leave me alone because I was scared that something bad was going to happen to me again. I would cry and throw tantrums and hold on to her legs to prevent her from walking out of the door when she dropped my sister and me off at our grandmothers. My mother would just pick me up, dry my tears and kiss me on the cheek. She would tell me that she had to go to work to make money for the family. I could tell that she didn’t want to leave her children but she had to do what she had to do.

A few years passed and I had started elementary school, I had dismissed my experience as a bad dream. I just didn’t want to think about it. I withdrew from my family big-time; I hated going around them. My mother sensed something was wrong but was consumed with the other two children she now had, my brothers. She was just too busy to deal with me now that she had given her husband some children. We were one big family now. Me, my sister, my two brothers and my parents. My mother wanted badly to have all her children grow up in a normal family setting as much as possible, so she and my stepfather decided to make us a family by giving us all the same last name. Being that my sister and I were born outside of marriage, we carried our mother’s maiden name. I really didn’t think that much about it until one day a lawyer came to the house and asked my sister and me a whole bunch of questions about our stepdad. Being that we were young when my mother decided to marry, she never told us about our biological fathers. We grew up thinking that the man she married was our father, so we called him Dad. The lawyer asked my sister and me if we wanted our dad to be our dad. We both answered yes because we really didn’t know what was going on. So on that day, my name changed from Curtis Raheem Williams to Curtis Raheem Miller. I felt special because when I went back to school, I had moved up in the alphabet, so I moved up in the lunch line since the class lined up in alphabetical order when we went to the cafeteria to eat lunch.

In school, I had discipline problems. I was unruly and very disrespectful. I remember all through elementary school in conduct I would get a U for unsatisfactory. I was acting out at school because I didn’t like people and I didn’t like people telling me what to do. I wanted to do my own thing. My mother and stepdad would try to beat the tar out me as they called it. I got beaten so much that I just expected one every day. I guess the beatings paid off because eventually, I made it to the fifth grade.

The morning before I started the fifth grade, I had a bad dream that a robber dressed in all black would break into the house, then come into my bedroom and mess with me. He would cover up my mouth so that I wouldn’t scream. Then he took my hand and rubbed it on his crotch. I struggled to get loose, but he was too strong. Somehow, I managed to get his hand off my mouth, and I screamed for my mom. My mother entered my room and witnessed me in bed, kicking and crying. She immediately woke me up. She comforted me by telling me that I’d just had a bad dream. After I was calmed, she proceeded to get me ready for school. I never told my mother about that dream because I didn’t want her to get mad at me for dreaming about another man, especially feeling on one. Because of my recurring nightmares, I began to have strange attractions towards men, and I didn’t understand why. I knew it wasn’t right to like other men, but I couldn’t help it. I would sneak the department store underwear ads from the Sunday paper and hide the men in underwear behind my dresser.

Not only did I think something was wrong with me, but other kids did too. I wasn’t as masculine as the other boys, and I