Quiet Storm

By Bella

Domestic Violence is one problem; however, it is handled and resolved in many different ways by its many different victims in a manner such that those victims may become survivors. How one victim overcomes may be totally different from how the next victim becomes a survivor. I know this to be true because of my story and my survival of Domestic Violence. This is my story, and this is how it happened for me and as I stated before, it will not be the same for everyone. Each journey is separate and has different routes and measures. I wrote this book to inform others of the cycle of Domestic Violence, and to bring about awareness to those who may be oblivious of this dark place and may have somehow unfortunately found themselves in it. It is extremely regrettable that so many individuals and families experience this tragedy and accept it as normal because they have not properly identified it as Domestic Violence. This book may also inspire others who may have a deep desire to advocate for victims who are living the nightmare of Domestic Violence. My hope is that this book will be a beacon to individuals who may be experiencing situations that are uncomfortable, dangerous, or violent to them or to their children and that they will quickly identify this problem and get assistance in getting out and getting out safely with their lives intact because sadly there are so many who don’t.

If you or someone you know are experiencing Domestic Violence, please get help by calling the National Domestic Violence Hotline at: [phone] or TTY [phone].

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Aug 31, 2020
• ISBN: 9781728370071

Bella

I was Down South on a Plantation to parents who were also born in the Deep South. I am the third oldest of ten children born to my parents. I was born Southern Baptist, and after moving to the state of Illinois in 1978, my family began serving in the Church Of God In Christ, (C.O.G.I.C.). I met the first husband, at that Church when I was singing in the junior choir. We were both in junior high school. I was age 13 and He was 14. I was very fond of him, but we did not start dating until later. I began college in 1985 and later we had a son and that is when I temporarily ended my college studies. Our courtship was only known to the two of us at the beginning. Before our separation, we had two more sons. There was a second marriage out of which came three daughters. I am a mother of six; three sons and three daughters, respectively. I currently reside in Southern California where I have launched a nonprofit organization that assists families who have experienced violence and trauma, and plans are also underway to begin a mentoring program for African Youth. I am creative with recipes, and I love to cook and create all types of dishes, especially Southern Foods. I am also the bestselling author of the book Quiet Storm. Most importantly, I have a heart and a mind to serve humanity and work for the betterment of underserved communities. I also work with other agencies for the same cause, donating to charities, and advocating for victims and survivors of domestic violence through the nonprofit organization that I have founded. The MOTH Foundation, Inc. The acronym MOTH stands for Matters of The Home.

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© 2020 Bella. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 10/20/2020

ISBN: 978-1-7283-7008-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-7283-7009-5 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-7283-7007-1 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2020915094

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

To the ones

who helped

me replace the silent cry with a loud

laugh……the true loves of my life.

Jeffery, Kendrick, DeShawn, Traneah, Tayva, & Taylor

I love you all so very dearly and couldn’t imagine life without you!

INTRODUCTION

This book contains chronicles of events that took place over a period that seemed like a forever; some are funny, despite the nature of the message, some are dramatic, and unfortunately some are violent. There isn’t anything ordinary about it, nor does it entail oversized words as if being presented by a sesquipedalian, except for that one time. Everything here is in layman’s terms for everyone to understand. This is a deep and moving compilation about a young wife unsuspecting wife who triumphed and overcame through courage and remarkable faith. She endured the unthinkable and unbelievable hardships of a marriage. She prevailed notwithstanding infidelity, emotional despair, deception, dishonor, domestic violence, and great public humiliation. Her road to a life of peace and happiness was made possible through standing on faith and knowing that these times would pass. This information is being forwarded in the effort to assist others who may be experiencing the like or similar situations in their relationships. It is also meant to be a beacon or to bring about awareness that can possibly save a child or a life or a family from the shattered results of violence in the home, unsettled blended families, or the perplexing heartbreak of not having rest or peace in your own home which is especially tragic for a child. In this story, the author explores how to identify, correct, get help, and get out of domestic violence. Now, experience through her compelling story her journey of surviving domestic violence; all the way from her birth on the plantation in Mississippi to current day, her story.

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I was in the emergency room with my baby. The baby was running a severely high temperature and crying a lot. The medical team had taken the required information and I was just waiting for my baby to be called in to be treated. The baby started to cry even more, and he started to show other symptoms and vomiting. I was very annoyed because of the length of the entire process.

I was sitting there trying to calm my eight-month-old son Lil Jason, when I heard a woman talking very loudly. She was crying and shaking, and she was terribly upset. This woman had been attacked and she was saying that she wanted her attacker to be arrested. She was shouting out the things that he did to her saying, What kind of freak does that to someone? Whoever did whatever to her, she made it known that it was a person of African descent. She kept shouting in the treating area that he was a black guy and referring to him as that fucking nigger.

Let me rewind and start from the beginning and bring you all the way to this day here in the hospital emergency room.

I would like to take this opportunity to tell of the journey that has landed me here, where I am today and writing this book. Let me start by first expounding upon from whence I hale. I was born in Minter City, Mississippi on a plantation. Some may have heard of it, Equen Plantation. I believe a movie or two has been filmed there. But let me tell you, my mother Mrs. Mattie Mae Harper was the real life HELP. Which is why this story begins with all her children, at the time, boarding a school bus because she was busy being the help for the plantation owners.

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From the plantation to your station!

I have heard so much about my entrance into this world and getting me up to speed. My parents already had two daughters and they got pregnant with me. Yes, number three. My mother has always been a work-aholic, and I guess that was the case even before I was born. She had been at work all day and she was quite tired. I believe my dad was in celebratory mode because he thought third times a charm and third times a son. His much desired son. Sorry, another girl. Dad also had a birthday coming up. Mom said there was a couch in their bedroom and dad was on that couch and she was in the bed. After work, my dad was out celebrating and drinking. Dad was out for the count on that couch and mom was asleep in the bed. My mom told me that she fell asleep pregnant and she awoke feeling something warm under the sheets and she could hear suckling under the sheets as well. She said that she was afraid to look but when she did, there I was, sucking my thumb. I had made my way into this world on my own. That explains a lot. Yes, I was born while my mother slept. I have always been very easy and gentle with her. She said she started calling dad and he was snoring loud. She started throwing things across the room to wake him; and nothing. Finally, when he was up, he started to put his pants on, but he was putting them on upside down. My dad asked my mom, What’s wrong, is it time? Mom told him, The baby is already here. Then the big question. Is it a boy or girl? She told him It’s a girl. Mom told dad that he needed to get the mid wives and my god mother, good ole Mother Sims.

When I was about eight months old, my parents were in a car accident and the passenger in the back seat, whom was a dear friend of theirs, tragically died in that car accident. My mom and dad were clinging to life. It was a terrible car accident that family members feared they would not survive. The scariest thing about it was that mom was pregnant with her fourth child, my sister Patricia. Of course, during this process, we were going from grandmother to grandmother and from aunt to aunt until our parents recovered and they were able to care for us again. But because of the pregnancy, mom had a much longer road to recovery than dad. Mom said when they finally came home from the hospital, she had some difficulties with the remainder of her pregnancy. When mom finally gave birth, my sister was sick and had some issues with her ears, among other things. By this time, I should have been walking but I was not, and my parents thought I had some sort of illness and that they were going to have to have me fitted for the leg braces. My dad used to tell me about how he would draw a line in the dirt, and I thought I would fall if I tried to cross it. And I guess my being a late walker did not help matters. So, by the time, my sister was born, I had not seen much of my parents. Now that they had a new baby, my turn for the spotlight was up. Next! By this time, they had six more babies to go. But time goes on and off to Kindergarten with me.

A couple of years later, my parents added another girl to the Harper Crew, Pam. That was girl number five and I know dad must have felt like giving up on his boy. So much time had gone by and this young family was growing fast. By this time, there was a house full of girls and dad. At this point, I thought I had started understanding life and family and had just begun kindergarten. We all remember my youngest sister being very clingy to dad. Dad had to sing to her to get her to eat. And she would only eat eggs. So, there he was singing Love me like a Rock, by Paul Simon to Pam and feeding her eggs. Sometime later, I noticed mom was not at work the way that she normally would be. She would go to work and then come home and then spend the rest of the day in bed. Then my dad took her away and we went to the grandmother’s house. Then she returned at went back to work, but she came back home again. I remember my parents having a conversation about something that I did not understand at the time, but I learned later that they were discussing the fact that mom was pregnant again and having some serious issues with her sixth pregnancy. The doctor wanted her to have a procedure that would have ended the pregnancy, but mom refused and kept trying to hang in there even though it was extremely difficult for her. After a while, mom could not work at all. I remember she closed away in the room and when I saw her again, she was feeling better and she was much stronger and still pregnant. And then it was time. My grandparents and the midwives and the god mother all came to our house that next week and we were not allowed to go to that part of the house. We children were not sent away to grand’s house this time; mom wanted us there. I remember her saying, Leave them right here. So finally, a baby came, and that baby was my parents’ sixth child and their first son.

I was expecting this new baby every other year thing to continue forever but as time went on, it seemed as though they were stopping at six kids. At this point, everyone was school age except for my brother. Mom and dad were back on track and it was back to work as usual for them. One day we were all sitting in the living room watching TV. Mom and dad were outside at first and then they came in the house. Before anyone could say anything or greet them, dad just yelled and said, Sit down, keep watching TV, and don’t get up. And everybody knew not to try it with dad. They went down the hallway and closed the door. Something was so strange about them. Even if we could hear our parents discussing something, and they may have been off a bit on some of the facts regarding a situation, we were not even allowed to intervene and correct whatever it was. That was a No No and considered being fast and thinking you’re grown. A few minutes later, mom started dinner and dad went outside to feed and water the yard. That was the first time that I was aware of domestic violence but not aware of it. They were having a fight and it went from verbal to physical, even though they tried to keep it from us. I knew it.

My sisters and I had arrived at our stop to get off the school bus. It was extremely hot on this day. When we got to the house, my oldest sister had a key to let all of us in. She started to cook for us. My big sister seemed to know just what to do, even though she was just a kid herself. There was a knock at the door. It was a neighbor, the one who came and never knew when to leave, a friend of the family, Miss Kate. She came uninvited and stayed there until the parents got home. My sisters and I were snickering quietly so the lady would not hear us saying, Why doesn’t she go home, who asked her to come over here anyway? When my mom arrived, she reassured her that the kids would be fine until she got home from work, and that she did not need to sit with us. After dinner that night, I asked my mother if I could stay home from school the next day and she said, No, why do you want to stay home? I said to her, Mom, I don’t think I’ll be feeling all that well in the morning. No, you get to bed right now, what kind of mess is that? My sisters, always picking and making fun, got a kick out of that one. Well my trying to stay home from school failed to work out for me which really gave them something to laugh about. They asked me, What is your problem, why don’t you want to go to school anyway? I didn’t want to tell them that I had this situation happening at school, so I said to them, Never mind, don’t worry about it; I’m going to bed."

The following day, I was walking into my classroom, and this boy punched me in the stomach as hard as he could. I was very intimidated by the boy, so I did not let the teacher know that I was having these terrible experiences with another student. When our class was preparing to take the test, the boy told me that I had better give him the answers or he was going to punch me again. I had a friend who knew that this was going on and after school she asked me why I had not said anything to Mrs. Hollins about this situation yet. I told her because Mrs. Hollins cannot be there every time, and that I will handle it myself. My friend said to me, You better say something so his crazy self will leave you alone. I was thinking to myself, I’d better find a way to handle this because right now it seems to be handling me. When we were getting on the school bus, I was once again in the company of my siblings. My oldest sister asked me, What is your problem, and were you crying just now?’ Of course, I told her, I’m ok and no, I wasn’t crying. The only thing that kept me going after school that day, is knowing that I was going to pick some berries with grand and Ms. Cassie. She said we were going to make a berry pie when we were done picking the berries. My grandmother had already finished cooking dinner, so we were on our way. When we were walking on the road to get the berries, grand and Ms. Cassie were laughing and talking, and they started singing together, of course gospel hymns. At that time, I could not even imagine what had brought them to such a compassionate place; they were even holding hands at that point, still singing. Whatever they were experiencing, it was immensely powerful, and we dared not ask. We did not get in grown-ups conversations interrupting the way I’ve seen some kids do today. Living in the Delta, deep in the south like that and being who they were in such a time, I know grand and Ms. Cassie had both experienced and seen situations that most could not even fathom. I just remember them hugging and then my grandmother said, Us made it, didn’t us gul? And they both had a since of alright-ness. Ms. Cassie said, Come on here Bell, lets git dees sheer berries." I have thought of that day so many times since I have been an adult, especially when watching the news which makes me utterly understand their moment quite well now. I will not forget, ever. How I miss them so dearly. Now on a lighter note, that pie. When we got back, my grandmother made that pie while we were getting the dishes out and preparing the table and after we were done with dinner, it was pie time. Grand loved hers with that vanilla ice cream on top and I did as well.

There were these 5 brick houses on this road leading to the main house on the plantation one of which was our house. Behind these homes was water, a sort of small body of water like a river that was referred to as the bayou. We were supposed to never go there. Well I guess you know by now; we went there. I really did not want to go; I mean I was the biggest chicken when it came to stuff like that. So, we went there, and we start having rock skipping contests. One of my older sisters kept daring me to get closer to the banks of the water. I told her that I was going to pick some berries and go home. She started calling me chicken and pretending that she was going to push me into the water anyway. I was really scared but I was trying to act like I wasn’t afraid. The other sister was screaming saying she saw an alligator. I said, No you didn’t, you saw a snake. All of us took off running and screaming in terror. When we all got closer to the house, my sister started taunting and antagonizing the hog. She kept hitting the sow with a stick and moving her feed tray away from her. The hog was so big she could not move fast. She pretty much stayed in one place all day long. My sister had taunted the animal so, until she was just lying there not even trying to get her food anymore. My dad was finally home from work. He was the sharecropper at home and cotton binder and tractor driver in the plantation fields. Before dinner, every evening he watered and fed everything in the yard. He went out and there was a mink in the chicken coop. He caught the mink and killed it and hung its fur over the doorway of the chicken coop. The day that my sister was teasing with that sow, that day was a long day for my daddy, I guess. He came in the house where we kids were and he asked, Who was out there messing with that hog? Nobody said anything. Somebody said, I wasn’t feeling well after school and I wasn’t out there at all. But she was the ringleader. She manipulated her way out of the entire situation, and I got my ass tore to pieces about the hog. I said to my sisters, and to the main culprit, that that was the worst whipping I had ever gotten. I asked my sister, Why did you tell dad that you weren’t there? You know I’m too scared of that hog to even go near her. You started the whole thing. You make me sick; you are always doing things that you never get in trouble for but everyone else does. Everybody gets in trouble except you. That is just not fair. She just shrugged her shoulders and poked her tongue out. In large families, there is always the kid who seems to get away with mischievous deeds. Down South, the kids were not allowed to say; It wasn’t me or let me explain. Or at least in our household we were not. My dad would just say, Be quiet, I don’t want to hear nothing, and don’t you say nothing." And you just take the whipping and it goes down in history that way whether you did what you were being accused of or not. Parents should be aware of this little tactic in child rearing as it sticks and grows with the child, sometimes going to school with them, in social settings with them, and leaving home with them going on into their adult