Finally Free

By Raquel Burks

"YOU CALLED ME BITCH FOR THE LAST TIME!" Click. Shami hung up the phone. It felt as though a refrigerator was lifted off her chest instantly. "Wow!" I said to myself. "It was that easy? I don't believe it." Shami is a young woman who dreamed of falling in love, getting married, raising a beautiful child, and keeping them together by any means necessary. She met and fell in love with a gorgeous man, John. Then her world turned upside down, and in the midst of it all, she became a survivor.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Oct 25, 2019
• ISBN: 9781684567263

Book preview

cover.jpg

Finally Free

Raquel Burks

Copyright © 2019 Raquel Burks

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING, INC.

New York, NY

First originally published by Page Publishing, Inc. 2019

This manuscript is a work of fiction. Any references to the characters or incidents deceased or alive are used only to enhance the authenticity of the story. Any things, any places, any people are used fictitiously, and the resemblance of reality is truly coetaneous.

ISBN 978-1-68456-724-9 (Paperback)

ISBN 978-1-68456-726-3 (Digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

The Beginning

Tribulations

Life Changes

Moving On

Bundle of Joy

My Epiphany

For my Dominique L.

You and me Forever.

Prologue

You called me bitch for the last time! Click. I hung up the phone. It felt as though a refrigerator had been lifted off my chest instantly.

Wow. It was that easy? I don’t believe it. I’m finally free! I said to myself, smiling as I walked four blocks back to my mom’s house from the pay phone that was sitting in the middle of the block.

I had been in an abusive relationship with the father of my three-year-old daughter for seven long years. I was terrified of leaving him because I thought he would hurt me or my daughter in the worst way. I didn’t want to leave him because I also loved him, and I wanted the three of us to be a family and raise our child with both parents in the home, but this day I couldn’t take any more. I was fed up and couldn’t take any more of the mental abuse, the physical abuse, and the humiliation year after year.

I really tried very hard to make a difference. I loved my daughter before she was even born, and I gave birth to her because I was ready to be a mom, but I also gave birth to her because I loved her father and I really believed he loved me, that he would marry me and we would be a successful unit. I was raised in a home with a mother who dedicated her life to raising her children, and she made our house a home. I was raised in the same home with my father who would sometimes work two jobs to provide for his wife and children. I wanted to give our daughter the same life foundation in spite of what I had to endure from my child’s father.

It took me seven years to realize that in order for a relationship to work successfully there has to be communication, loyalty, trust, understanding, honesty, endurance, determination, and most of all, love. I knew I didn’t have not even half of this, but it didn’t stop me from trying because I wanted it badly for my daughter. The great thing about this entire experience is that I now know that sometimes a family can be successful even if it is broken, even if the parents are separated. My daughter needed to be raised in a healthy, safe environment, and for her to be a happy growing child, I needed to be happy to make this happen. I acknowledge that only the strong survive and that yes, I’m a survivor.

The Beginning

Iwas visiting my sister Jeanelle one hot summer day. Actually it was the last day in June, and I wanted to spend some time with her before she admitted herself in the hospital. Nothing interesting was really happening on this day, and it was quite prosaic. Everyone in the house was gone. I discovered this as I awakened from a nap on the comfy blue couch I fell asleep on. I then stood up, stretched, and yawned. Then I walked over to look out of the second-floor window.

As I scanned everything and everyone outside, I landed my eyes on him. John! There he was directly across the street shirtless with a pair of denim cargo pants on with black sandals washing his four-door champagne-colored car. His body was chiseled from top to bottom, and he had the most gorgeous smile with beautiful straight white teeth and a dimple on his right cheek. Oh! He is fine! I said to myself. Where did he come from?

I had to know, so I immediately began fixing myself up. I grabbed my go-to silver hoop earrings and put them back in my ears. I went to the bathroom and wiped the sleep out of my eyes, wiped my face, and rinsed my mouth out with mouthwash and cold water. I brushed my hair back into the long black ponytail I loved to wear and put back on a fresh coat of my favorite cherry-red lipstick.

I gave myself a look over in the mirror and then ran downstairs. I stepped out on the porch and looked across the street to see if he was still there, and he was. I began a casual stroll down the sidewalk pretending I was going to the corner store just so I could be observed by him, and to my surprise, it worked.

Hi, he said to me. I kept walking. Hey, hey, you?

I stopped and turned around. Hello, I said to him.

Are you from around here?

I said, No, I’m not. Then I smiled.

The perfectly tanned and very toned man asked me if I had a boyfriend, and I told him no. Then he said with a commanding voice, Don’t talk to anyone around here okay, I want to make you mine!

I looked at him with his rock-hard abs and his short, thick curly