The women in his life was moving on and he couldn't understand it. When both women was in the same area he gotten curious about what they were doing and what they were talking about. His main focus was looking at booty pictures online to peak his desire, and not paying attention to anything else but that.
His wife called him more then once but he didn't answer. He blocked her number really quickly. Malia was his pret, since that was still his wife and he wanted to know what she was doing. Malia seemed happy and she didn't mind showing it. Cray approached her but she ignored him completely like he did her. He only shook his head in acknowledgment as if he could take what he dishes out but deep down he was angry about it. The things that he did was catching up with him, and he was scared. Malia somehow brought comfort to him but she closed up on him and didn't give any chance to speak.
Being busy creating her kingdom, while he was creating his chaos. She didn't care about his feelings, cause her feelings wasn't coming in return. Every guy looked at her and she smiled back at them in front of Cray and that made him feel like she was moving on without him.
Cray sat in front of her, looking at her but she didn't bother to look up. The look of curiosity came on his face and she felt it. Since she matured and in his eyes she wasn't mature enough for him, he wanted to see what was it about her that made him want to know more but she wasn't giving any vibes for him to know anything.
Malia gets up and takes off her shoes. Then sits back down. Cray still sits there, watching her.
What you want, Cray? Asked Malia Aren't you supposed to be somewhere. Maybe fucking both your mama and sister? Or your brother or cousin? Something like that.
Cray smiled at how pathetic she was sounded. And even though secretly he wanted to fuck his sister, he knew how wrong it would be.
Do you think you telling my family about what I said to you was going to make me look bad. He joked.
Malia kept eating and not answering. It was like what he said and does doesn't matter to anyone. So, she kept eating, ignoring his crude, fucked up ways. Malia didn't respond. She wanted to cry but she held it in and kept her problems to herself. Even though she felt like she wanted to blame him for everything he putted her though. She just knew he wasn't going to take action or responsibilities for the past. In truth there was nothing that he could do but be the tough guy that he claimed to be and act like he was proud of his mistakes or choices. It wasn't Malia responsibility to bring him to see how wrong he did her and she found that out finally after 23 years of marriage. Months turned into days, days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into mouths. Going into a new year. He was still acting a fucking fool.
From different phones Emma called on. She was stalking him with different phone numbers.
I got to go. Said Cray. Getting up from the table but waiting for a response as he was leaving but he didn't get that. Cray aggressively pushes the chair in and walks away. Malia drops her sandwich onto her plastic plate with her French fries.
Emma was secretly drawing naked men in sketch book, coloring the characters body nice and slowly, licking her lips. Placing her imagination into how she wanted a man to treat her but couldn't voice it. She drew Cray but with a most ugliest attitude and the cruelty personality of his whole manhood.
Fuck you , Cray! She said. Scrapping his picture she drew with an art knife that she had hidden in underneath her bags. She was nude sitting in a chair, drawing her emotions. Waiting for him to come home. Dinner was ready, and she was just hoping he would come home and he did. Angry about something small, angry about something he couldn't control. He was angry about everything that he had done, and realizing his world was being found out. He had to come back with a comeback.
Perhaps being silent, and not answering. Being secretive, and not showing too much was his main objection. Being an ass is part of his own personal empowerment until someone beats towards him with his own game.
Emma looked at the clock, and quickly putted everything away but the only thing that she left out with the oil paint that she made placed into a Cologne bottle that her mother gave her when she was younger. The mother passed it on to her once her father passed away and that was the only memory she had of him, besides the hurt and pain that he caused her for the hell out it. The only thing good about her father was that he knew how to dress and smell good. That is the only thing she wanted to remember. She was good of making things of how she wanted things to go in her secret world of Creativity.
Emma checked the clock again, once a car light flashed through the window. She looked outside and saw him coming in. So, she ran to the door and stood there, controlling her breathe, standing in a posture position where one leg out and one leg in kind of stand. She placed on a fake smile. Cross her hands, where paint was still on her hand. When she saw that it was, she was so scared to move. He liked her in a standing position when he came in, and until he told her to move.. She wasn't let out or off the hook.
Cray rushed in, slamming the door. Giving her a pathetic grin and walked beside her, tossing her aside and just not paying attention. Emma was almost in tears. So, what she did was pick up her robe, and placing it on her body, while looking at him. He turned on the TV but smelled some Cologne that she had. It paint inside a cologne bottle and a ketchup bottle also but she didn't close the bottle up right.
Is there a man in here? Yelled Cray.
Emma shakes her head fast, breathing heavy.
Your lying! Said Cray. Getting up, marching up, stumbling on everything he walked on, moving tables and chairs out the way.
Where is he? Yelled Cray.
Nobody is here! Emma said calmly. He looked at every drower as if he a man can fit in it. Emma tried to stop him from going through her stuff but he was too strong to do move or push around.
He throw everything on the ground, her secret was exposed. He glanced at every picture she had ever drawn of men. He became more angry.
I'm not enough! I am not enough! I am never enough! Said Cray. Tearing everything up. And since I'm not enough... Your not either. He said. Pouring Gasoline on the paper.
Emma didn't fight back, she just cried as everything was happening. She slides down the corner of the wall, crying her soul out while fire reflections lighted up in flames