He sat on the bed. Lifeless. Full of new feelings that did not feel so good. And prior to this moment, he had never really experienced this with Chyna.
I mean sure there were times when he felt inadequate and insecure because Chyna was a little younger than he was. Not to mention, she brought it up more than a few times.
He read and read. He paced, he thought, and then he reread to make sure it was all true.
“What the fuck is this?”
“Who the FUCK is she talking to?”
“This CANNOT be my girl. No way. I don’t know her anymore.”
Tyshawn found Chyna's Ipad, full of text messages, pictures and video she sent to some random dude. He wanted to bash her face in. But he couldn't. I mean the most provocative stuff he always wanted her to send him. But she never did. She sent it to someone else.
There was even a wetness he felt as he wiped the backside of his hands across his eyes.
No. I'm bigger than this, he replied.
While Tyshawn tried desperately to brush his shoulders off, get his thoughts and game plan together, he was filled with heartbreak. He still wanted to maintain his composure. I mean after all, he just walked into all of this. Chyna’s roommate was in the dining area entertaining Tyshawn’s little brother who came to help him move Chyna’s things from her current home.
Tyshawn often teased Chyna that he wanted her back in their hometown so bad, that whenever she was ready, he would pay all moving cost to get her back there. At many times, he often felt he was the cause of her moving away to the suburbs of South Carolina from their New York City pad. Of course he would feel this way because she spoke about it very often, but certainly not until after she had moved to South Carolina.
Chyna was very scared of Tyshawn.
For many reasons. After her horrific childhood with her physically and mentally abusive stepfather, her countless encounters with abusive relationships, Chyna felt as though she mastered the very thought of pointing out those men with capabilities of rearranging a woman’s face because of his inner most insecurities.
Tyshawn had heard Chyna talking on the phone numerous times about some of her past experiences, many of which included previous relationships with an adulterer, a male whore, and an alcoholic, just to name a few. Tyshawn was in the business of convincing both himself and Chyna that he in no ways fell in the category of anyone who could possibly harm her.
Wait, let’s back up a minute because I forgot to tell you the crazy way Tyshawn and Chyna began talking.
Chyna’s fiancé, yes I said fiancé, was a member of city council in Manhattan. He consumed himself with work and all the females in his line of work. Long story short, Chyna was unhappy with the endless conversations of how they would get married and life would just POOF! change for the both of them. They, meaning her and the councilman, would live happily ever after. Not.
Tyshawn met Chyna through an online site she participated in as a pastime. She would never agree to meet with him in person, so Tyshawn threw a business proposition at her that she couldn’t refuse. They met at a local lounge to discuss business specifics and they never stopped talking from that very moment.
Tyshawn was not blown away by her beauty initially.
But the more time he spent with her, the more time he wanted to spend with her.
Chyna told Tyshawn about her then current relationship and although he appeared very concerned about the health of her relationship, he wined and dined her every chance he got.
He took Chyna to the most exquisite restaurants by the water. They flew to Dubai and many other islands, just as a weekend hobby.
Now. Let’s get back to the juice!
One weekend, the fiancé councilman left town for a business venture. Chyna found herself in the midst of self-evaluation. She was far from being in love with Tyshawn, but she couldn’t help but notice how well he treated her in contrast to her fiancé. Tyshawn talked, listened, and wanted to spend every waking and sleeping moment with her.
She even went as far as wondering what the sex would be like with Tyshawn. They had spent just about every day together for three months. Yea. You read that right. She had a fiancé who was gone all the time to the point she was able to have a completely different relationship with Tyshawn and the fiancé did not suspect a thing. Don’t think he cared enough to even ask her.
In fact, Chyna realized that the only reason she even engaged in more than business with Tyshawn was simply to have something to tell her fiancé about, thinking it might make him jealous and keep him home.
Eventually, Chyna left the fiancé. (That’s a whole ‘nother story I gotta tell you about)
Tyshawn was astatic to learn that he could possibly have her all to himself. No more fiancé. Nice. Time to make that move on her.
Two days after dumping the fiancé, Tyshawn showed up at Chyna’s job, filled with anxiety. He texted her…
Outside yo job. Got a min?
But now, nothing surprised Chyna when it came to Tyshawn. As she walked down the long, shiny but dull hallways, she reminisced repeatedly on her conversation with the ex-fiancé. Tears started coming down her cheek. She was now second guessing the breakup. Just as she empowered herself to push open the glass doors surrounded by other coworkers, Chyna quickly wiped the tears and headed up the stairs and out of the gate to the metered area his car was sitting.
As Chyna bent down to tap on the passenger side window, she was blinded by Tyshawn’s Kool-Aid grin. As he reached over to unlock the door, she noticed a tiny brown bag.
OMG she thought. No.
Chyna took a seat slowly in the flamboyant champagne colored, 2-door, low-sitting Maserati. She never took her eyes off of the light coming from both his smile and the bald head that embraced it.
He began talking. And she began crying. Chyna heard none of the words he said because she was too busy pretending not to see that tiny brown bag that had an enormous presence in between them.
Tyshawn took Chyna’s hand abruptly and asked her:
“What would you do if I proposed to you?”
“I mean, I’m NOT proposing, but what if I did? What would you say?”
If ever Chyna could maintain a poker face, this wasn’t that time. She started trembling and crying and started to have a panic attack.
“I gotta go!” she mumbled.
Although she mumbled, in her mind, she screamed for help.
She never stopped thinking from that very moment.
What is he thinking?
I mean, am I even done with fiancé councilman?
I just poured my heart out to this man to console me, is he taking advantage of my situation?
Damn. I mean. I was just in a relationship two days ago. Why would he….?
Chyna’s questions and thoughts were on a roll.
Most people would say Chyna had it going on. But Chyna was now faced with many decisions.
So now we fast forward. Oh did I tell you they slept together?
Yea. Chyna and Tyshawn both needed to unwind a few weeks before this horrific event took place. Friday evening, she got off work, he picked her up with her favorite meal already in the car. They made a quick stop to pick up some patron, her favorite, and well, that’s how it happened.
Oh. You wanna know how the sex was?
Chyna was pleased with the fact that Tyshawn had an inch more than what she imagined. However, she still couldn’t believe that she slept with this older cat, while having a fiancé.
So now Chyna let Tyshawn come over one evening as he did many times prior. They ate, they talked, they drank, and they even laughed a little.
Then Chyna told him the news. I am going away for a couple of days.
Up until this point, Tyshawn thought he knew her every move.
Where are you going?
Well, councilman wants to talk. And I feel like I owe him at least that.
Tyshawn was furious.
And it showed.
What the fuck you mean? Oh, so you think you are going to fuck me, sex him and come back to me?
Bitch you crazy.
Just as Chyna figured, the conversation was quickly going south. She tried to hurry up and put some clothes on but as she reached for her shorts, she was met with his hands. Tyshawn grabbed her shoulder and pushed her down into seating position on the edge of the bed.
You ain’t going nowhere. Now. Saying something.
Chyna, frantic, scared, and realizing she was alone, began to say any and everything she felt he wanted to hear.
Needless to say, Chyna never left.
Even more. Chyna never got the chance to see the fiancé for a possible reconcile.
And just like that, Tyshawn made himself her man. She had no say in the matter.
So Chyna planned her escaped.
“Lord, please just let me make it home.”
Chyna chants as she hangs the curves of the interstate.
She fights to holds her eyes open. She is reviewing rules and regulations of driving in her head, to confirm that although she is inebriated, she is still very much coherent.
Chyna, now shaking her legs as she realizes the nearer she gets to the house, the more her urge grows to pee.
She skids into the driveway and parks recklessly. With cup and Prada bag in one hand, keys in the other, she races up to the door. In fear of peeing her pants, she opens the door and drops everything a few steps in. Barely making it to the bathroom door, she starts to feel the warmth running down her leg...
“Fuggit.” She sighs in relief just to be home.
Chyna makes it to her bed, flops down with clothes still on, and passes out.
She reflects on her past in a dream…
“Go warm ya bruvah up something to eat and bring me a beer back,” said Jake with his normal scheming look.
Chyna went into the bright yet dull country kitchen filled with so much needful clutter. She made her way to the stove, and then to the microwave.
While the food was heating up for the 4-year old brother, Chyna went towards the back of the house to check on the other siblings. They appeared to be jumping on the bed quietly while making silent jokes, as they knew not to be too loud and upset Jake. Normally, if he heard sounds of excitement, he would always replace it with the opposite of fun.
Exposed was Chyna’s youth for about 10 seconds as she tried to engage in the fun the other kids were having.
“Owwwwwww!” came from the kitchen, followed by an enormous cry. All the kids immediately wiped the fun off their faces. Chyna was terrified. What was that? Why is there noise breaking our fun? How pissed off is Jake that he was disturbed from his everyday 40-ounce ritual?
By the time Chyna made her way to the kitchen, she was forced back into the long and old-wooded hallway. Jake was smacking her, punching her, scolding her. Badly.
“I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean to.” She cried repeatedly. Jake beat her all the way down the hallway, back into the room with the other kids. The other kids grabbed each other in fear and watched in utter disbelief.
“You kids, get outta here. Chyna, you are on punishment. Why did you give that baby that hot food, knowing that it was too hot?”
Chyna’s face filled with question. What is he talking about? Why would I purposely burn my baby brother with food?
“Don’t turn these lights back on. And do not come out of this room for anything! You hear me?”
“Yes sir,” she whispered.
Chyna stayed in the cold and dark room, trying to figure out how to escape. This time for good. Chyna had run away from her mother’s home several times before, but her mother would always find her and bring her back. Chyna waited until her stepfather left to go pick up her mother from work.
She packed a duffle bag full of clothes and attempted to leave out the window when she realized she had nowhere to go. She ran into the kitchen and picked up the phone to call her cousin to meet her half way.
No dial tone.
Jake had unplugged the phone suspecting that Chyna would try to use it after he left. With no time to waste, Chyna darted out the back door, jumped the fence and hauled ass down the street. She did not know where to go but away. She ran until the streetlights became brighter and brighter. She was met suddenly by headlights coming from the opposite direction.
Her heart was racing and pounding. Did her stepfather see her?
Just as the car was approaching Chyna….
She woke up.
SHE’S A STREET-SMART DIVA WITH IQ OF A GENIUS…
Chyna's government actually came from the rapper Foxy Brown's album entitled "Chyna White". Her mother was a fan beyond explanation.
Somehow, Chyna's name played exceptionally well into who she was as a person. She was indeed of a darker, mahogany red skin tone just as the rapper. Her family origin was a mixture of Indian with a complimenting mix of both Caucasian and Afro-American.
Because Chyna grew up with only 3 older brothers and a younger brother, the limp in her walk sometimes gave off the wrong vibe, suggesting that she was only interested in dating the same sex.
Although Chyna was short and slim, her personality, hidden curves, and charisma made her irresistible to the opposite sex and envied by most of the females too. She often tested this gift by allowing homophiles to come onto her, just to politely advise them that she was strictly dickly.
Chyna Tamiyo White was born to Janet Little and Oscar White in the late seventies. Although a mute as a child, Chyna viewed the world very optimistically until she was about 11 years old. Because she was the only girl, Chyna got spoiled by her mother, father, and grandparents. She got lots of attention everywhere she went as Chyna had this “gift”.
She didn’t know how to explain it, she just knew that her entire family always bragged and boasted about her gift.
Overnight, the world grew to be a dark, lonely place. One cold, wintery night she had this dream that her grandfather was walking through this great white light. The entire dream, Chyna just watched her grandfather’s silhouette, trying to determine if he was walking towards her, or away from her. She quickly found out the reality…her grandfather was dying simultaneously as she dreamed. Her hurt grew thick. Her logic became complex. The rebirth of Chyna began.
She cried for 6 months consecutively as her grandfather was her best friend.
Her dad left her mother with five kids. Her mother moved on as well and remarried Chyna’s nightmare.
Chyna quickly gained a baby sister and the beginning of a lifelong terror.
Chyna’s stepdad despised the ground she walked on. He beat her about as often as he washed his ass.
Her stepfather, Jake was tall in stature. And although his body resembled a Slim Jim, Chyna was terrified of his every move.
He beat her until she was old enough to develop. Then he began his multiple rape attempts. Chyna tried expressing this to her mother repeatedly. But her mother called her a troublemaker….so much she started trying to live up to the accusation.
Stay tuned. Shit just got real…
What’s Done in the Dark: A Woman’s Intuition
My coworker, Martin, discreetly handed me the flash drive. He shook his head and said, “Good luck.” He reluctantly gave in to my persistent requests. Ethical programmers have an honor code they live by. I asked him to break it this one time, because I needed to know. I needed answers.
I tried my best to restrain my anxiety as I rushed out the office to my car, hoping no one would interrupt my desperate exit. I only had one hour to get this done before coming back to work from lunch.
The short trip home seemed to take forever. I finally made it home and pulled the car into the drive way with a screeching halt. I entered the house, threw my jacket on the sofa and went straight to the back room where Terrence seems to always spend his nights. I shoved the flash drive in the port, plopped in the chair and scooted closer to the desk concentrating on getting this done, and fast. The keylogger only took about 5 minutes to load. I logged out of his computer, removed the flash drive and headed back to work.
I was barely in my car when guilty thoughts began racing through my head. Really, Chyna? Has it come down to this? Do you really want to check out what your man’s been doing on the internet? Would you want him to do it to you? Do you really want to know? Seek and ye shall find. Knock and the door will slam open and yank your ass in! Are you ready for that?
“Yep!” I said out loud, as I pulled into my job’s parking lot.
Every night, he makes his way to that God forsaken back room, and every night, I’d go to bed alone and frustrated. His excuse was always he needed his downtime. He would say, “It’s sorta like taking a shot of whiskey to wind me down. Chillout, baby, and let your man have his down time.”
I decided to ask him again this evening to come to bed with me. He barely looked at me and mumbled that he had a few things he needed to do on the computer. I was more cooperative than normal. I knew the keylogger would tell me everything I needed to know… good or bad. Without arguing I replied, “Ok, boo. Do you."
I don’t know when he finally made it to bed. I woke up the next morning staring at the back of his head, as usual. Cuddling had gone out the window a long time ago. I showered, dressed and went to work.
After work, I made a B line straight home, desperate to get to that back room and to the keylogger on his glorified computer. Just when I walked through the door, he called me to tell me he would be late coming home. Cool! I’ve got even more time to see where he’s been prowling on the world wide web!
I headed to the back room and turned on the computer. I took a deep breath and said, “Here we go, girl… Let’s do this!”
As I read the keylogger, my heart sank and my blood pressure began to rise. I didn’t expect to see what was laid out in front of my eyes. Dread filled my soul and I realized that I’ve been living and sleeping with a fucking stranger, a crazy freak! I followed his digital footprints to all kinds of shit! From freaky conversations he was having with his ex’s, all kinds of vulgar nude pics from females, and pics of his penis he sent back to all of them. I could have dealt with all of that. I would have gotten complete satisfaction from cussing and kicking his ass out. But, what killed my insides… What ripped my soul and stopped my breath was nude pics of a young girl. Her familiar face stared back at me lustfully. Her one hand groped her young plump breast, while the other played with her privates. Her legs were splayed open exposing her everything!
I knew her. I hugged her. I invited her in my house. I fed her. She and my daughter had become friends. She even called me Auntie Chyna! He told me she was his play niece. I couldn’t help but believe him. She was so young, no more than 14 years old! I couldn’t look anymore. If there was more to see, I didn’t care. THAT was enough.
I grew sick to my stomach as I thought about my daughter, Chelsea. I have my daughter living in a house with a child molester! I placed my baby in harm’s way while dealing with a sick ass niggah! What the hell?? I was so angry with myself and mad furious with this son of a bitch! I started thinking about all the times I left them alone together while I ran errands and how Chelsea would plead for me to take her with me!
The chair slammed to the floor as I jumped up and stormed out of the room. All I could think about was Chelsea and lighting his ass up with his own Desert Eagle .50 caliber and watching the life drain from this crazy monster! He should have never told me where he hides his gun! He should have never taken me to range all those times! Because he’s about to die tonight!! Point blank… POW!
[Did you like Chapter 1? Look for Chapter 2. Stay tuned.....]