Lovers In The Battlefield

“Lovers in the Battlefield”

Introduction

The courage to love is a beautiful thing, but the courage to be loved is another. This story is based on true events and is factual.

This book is dedicated to the one true love of my life Jesus Christ! Your timeless hand and merciful word has led me to explore the truth of my testimony. Times when I was just a girl, loving like a woman; who I believed was a man, but was actually a demonic force that I will be forever grateful for through your triumphant existence. The life you formed in my mother’s womb has left no scars because of your healing blood. By your stripes I am healed.

The process of love comes with the purpose of loving oneself through the promising process of growth. Getting to know you has been the best thing I could have ever done. We know the truth, that the enemy comes to kill, steal, and destroy, and he will use anybody to build his kingdom of darkness, even the ones we love most. Throughout this journey you have shown me to be set apart from those who you don’t know, and although I believed I knew them it was your spirit that came over me that helped me recognize how much I had to learn about people, witchcraft, your word, and my ability to trust in the unknown. I am nobody’s victim, but a testament to your will through and through. Thank you for choosing me.

When the storm rages you must continue to fight. And although you have served these individuals through the genuity of yourself some have taken for granted and taken advantage of the pieces of you you’re fighting desperately to get back, do not let them win. The Bible tells us that when placed amongst evildoers we must be able to live, thrive and survive off the bread of life which is the word of God. How dare you love those who have the intent to destroy your very existence? Through his will. We know that the battle is not against flesh and blood. The word of the lord tells us in Matthew 5:43-45. “But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven.

This book is a dedication to my children, without you, I would have never known what my other purpose was. You six give me a purpose to live and to enjoy the pleasures of life while living. Your carefree spirits remind me of how wonderful life can be. I want you all to know that throughout everything we have been through on this journey we will always be together. When you reach a primary point in life you will understand why I did my best to keep you away from the enemy that has tried to steal your destiny, victimize you, and have the works of the lord go against you. Spells are real. There are days you don't know about that I sacrificed to keep you warm, nights that you will never see that I stayed up praying over your souls. I will forever endure for you six, intercede for you six, and take on everything in the spiritual realm just to let the enemy know that everything attached to me wins. It is your love that has saved me, through the womb God created for me to bear you. I have found the hope to love and endure all things through the mercies of God and his everlasting grace. The word of the lord covers you, and is instilled in you to equip you for the traverses of life. In this universe, you will face many things, but as long as you stand for the truth you never have to worry about failing. Psalms 127:3-4 tells me that “children are a heritage from the Lord, offspring a reward from him. Like arrows on the hands of a warrior are children born in one's youth.” Luke 11:27 states that blessed is the womb that bore you, and the breasts at which nursed you. I love you.

Finally, this book is dedicated to those who wanted to see me fail. I know I am not battling you in your flesh, I know that many of you feel the need to attack me based on the light ai carry. Without your snares, misunderstandings and adversity, I would've never found my true calling. Without your witchcraft, lies, shame, and deceit I would've never found the courage to love myself and find hope in new beginnings. Thank you for your rejection, thank you for your coming against me, and thank you for your demonic attacks. Many of you believed that you could stop me, but in the midst of my trials and tribulations I found a man named Jesus, I hope and pray that you try him out. And remember he brings rain on the just and the unjust. Jesus loves you and I pray that you open up to receive him before it's too late.

This book is written for the sole purpose of sharing my story, my story of a spiritual truth that aligned my path as a chosen being with witchcraft, jealousy, envy, rage, malice, and deceit. There isn't anything the devil will not use to destroy what God has stamped. He will try to destroy your house, your children, your finances, and even your health. The devil wants what belongs to God but by the power of the blood, I decree and declare that me and my children belong to Jesus! This story will make you cry, it will make you smile, and most of all it will help you understand, that the soulless beings who has shape-shifted themselves on this earth are the very ones God places in your path to desecrate your credibility in him. It is up to you, you must develop the courage to love and remain in God even when the going gets tough.

Chapter One: The Dark Trials of Low Self Esteem

One day in the coldest of fall back in 2008, the mysteries of my life began to unravel through what I would now call a web of tangled truths embedded with tangible lies. A fall from grace and a leap of faith is what I needed in order to defeat the adversaries against me unknowingly. Walking in the hallways of a low budget schoolhouse, pregnant, alone, and the victim of my mother’s abuse, I was lost in the eyes of a stranger whose heart I thought I knew, but turns out I was another victim of the abuse of a man who didn’t know his own truth.

This man was who I would call today the definition of a love, but with the immeasurable tendencies of pain. The man who I will stand in front of forgiving myself time and time again for what I allowed in my life. Standing at my locker getting ready for the school day he appears behind me, dressed in a leather jacket, khakis shots and with dreadlocks that hanged to his shoulders. He asked me a question that I couldn’t refuse. “Can I take you to the movies?” Pregnant, I stood there shocked, it was his boldness and courage that attracted me to him the most. I mean the heart to be blunt with what he wanted without the proper greeting of hello sent my heart into flutters of his circumvent, I said yes. I was ecstatic, not because I didn’t get the attention from boys, not because I had never experienced lust, but because this would be my first date ever.

A boy with the courage to date me pregnant could only mean one or two things, either he loved me or he wanted something he was not getting because he knew I was giving it. Days after our initial meeting we set a day and a time to meet for our first date. We decided on the movie Eagle Eye (more into that later). On the day of our date it was cold and rainy but we still decided to proceed with the plans we had made. We both ditched school at our shared lunch hour and caught the metro train to the Galleria Mall, in St. Louis, MO. When we get to the mall he asks if I wanted to eat before the movie because the movie meals were not satisfying. I happily said yes. I decided on Panda Express I ordered my favorite, orange chicken and rice and he ordered a Philly cheesesteak from Charley’s. We sat across from one another right in the middle of the concession area.

Seated at the table we fell deep into conversation starring each other in the eyes not caring about who or what was surrounding us. Careless teenagers eager for affection we talked, smiled, and got to know more about our dreams and aspirations. I couldn’t help but get lost, and like the lover I am I asked if he wanted to try my orange chicken, he said yes, and I proceeded to feed him from my fork, but he took it and ate from it. My heart couldn’t help but smile.

It was now time for our movie, we go into movie theater 9 and take our seats in the middle row. As the movie began on that rainy day in October 2008, we touched hands, we held hands and he even placed his jacket around my shoulders when I was cold. A true gentlemen in my eyes I waited to make my next move.

He rubbed my bulging belly and I began to caress his legs, from his legs I went up to his penis, now erected I leaned over and whispered let’s go to the bathroom. He followed me out of the movie theater and grabbed my hand, he said no let’s finish the movie. He grabbed me and hugged me and we walked back in the theater with his right arm placed around my shoulders.

After the movie conceded we got on the train, it was cold and I didn’t have a jacket so he let me keep his until the next day. We rode the train in silence with blank stares from here and there. Completely ashamed and embarrassed by my lack of self worth and self control he never mentioned that day to anyone but me. We continued on as friends as he began to date another girl from high school and I was still in the rampant fire of my first kids father. I didn’t feel our friendship had any stipulations as the inevitable would occur, at least that’s what I believed. In my young 17 year old mind I would give birth to my daughter and me and her father would become one, this was true to some extent but was definitely the latter. Oh, how many lies I’ve told myself about the dangers of men that lurked around my mere existence.

Finally, the day had come for me to see my daughter. Election Day 2008, I laid in a hospital bed, with tubes and wires attached to my protruding belly. I gave birth in the early morning hours on that day, and felt I had created history with Obama winning his first presidential term. My daughter was born at 7lbs 14oz, a number that has been a repeated investment in the lives of most of my children. Some would call it luck, but I would call it favor.

After the birth of my daughter I stayed in the hospital for what seemed like forever. My daughter’s father would come up to the hospital, but that would do nothing but continue the scars of the abuse I had endured from him since I laid on the cold floor giving him my innocence. My mother kicked him out of the hospital but he returned later that night, we argued, and he showered and asked me a question that still plagues in the back of my mind. He said what are you going to do when you get out of here. I said what do you mean, he said you’re going to get you a boyfriend. I said I already have one. Once in the shower I called up my high school friend and asked him to come to the hospital to meet my daughter.

He said he would, but I believe he was afraid at what others would think so he decided against it and instead kept an open contact with me throughout my tumultuous experience of pain.

Chapter 2: The Rebirth

Life went back to what seemed to be my new normal after the birth of my first daughter. Senior year had finally approached and I couldn’t wait to prove to myself that I could do this. I got back into action in my community, and school, rejoining student organizations, the basketball team and a host of other leadership opportunities the school had to offer for a 17 year old girl growing up in the ghetto of St. Louis, MO. I worked overtime to keep my grades up, and provide for my child. Enrolling in programs such as Teachers as Parents and Nurses for Newborns I did everything I could do as a single teenage mother. Nevertheless that didn’t stop me from wanting to be loved.

The friendship between me and the guy blossomed into more. We would see each other in the hallways and kiss underneath the steps. I mean I guess he had lost his virginity that summer and was eager to show me that he wasn’t scared of what I had to offer. One day while roaming the halls for a teacher, he walked out of class, meeting near the bottom of the steps going in opposite directions he grabbed my arm, as he grabbed my arm I looked at him in his eyes, he grabbed my chin, and leaned in and kissed me, we were caught by a childhood friend. I couldn’t help but think he smelt so good and how much I wanted to stay in his arms forever. Soon after those little kisses we began to see each other often and the more we saw one another the deeper the connection became, we slowly started to engage in sex. Still never putting a stamp on the terms of what we expected from one another we just built on what we didn’t know and this would later come back to become one of the rebirths of our lives.

He and I continued on throughout the course of 2009-2010, seeing each other and spending time with each other as much as we allowed ourselves. There would be times we would walk home from high school together, most days were to pick up his brother from the preschool located near my house, there probably wasn’t a sense in him walking me home, but more so just a coincidence in what I have subjected myself to think towards someone with the inability to be loved. We would meet at his houses often just to have ten minutes of intercourse.

Nothing to my remembrance or even to my liking, just a two young people trying to be grown. There would be mornings where we would meet to walk to school and I would buy us breakfast with my food stamps, mainly snacks, his favorite was Hostess iced honey buns, bbq sunflower seeds and the giant pack of now and layers. Back then you would get 18 pieces of candy in one pack with three different flavors. One day while walking toward his house to meet for school there was this strong sense of senselessness that had plagued my identity. I knew the struggle would only grow thicker. The funny thing about meeting this boy and falling victim to his life was just as ironic as the future would make it. And there is this way to the descriptive definition that would expose haters, misery, liars, jealousy, envy, witchcraft, and a host of other things that has unfolded on this journey while learning and growing through unconventional trials of abuse, error, destruction, and corruption, all underlined by the ability of a gift.

The guy and I would eventually go on our separate ways and not speak but once after the conclusion of high school. I went on to my struggle, trying to figure out life for me and my daughter. No real surreal help, and I was so angry as a young girl that I just couldn’t surrender to the support until I was ready for what I needed and actually understood that. I would meet an older gentleman by the name of David, and he and I would begin speaking under the terms of his support and my agreement to be supported. The older guy was the brother in law of my daughter’s aunt Lana.

Part of me knew it was foul, the other part knew it was because her father had refused to step up and be a man and I needed to ensure that her needs were being met one way or the other. Family would only have me around to use me, and I had no real friendships that were an important identifying factor that I could trust and rely on with our futures. All my friends were either prostitutes, or just fake and didn’t really like me because of my intellectual abilities.

The older guy would turn out to be a nightmare to me and my daughter. He would control us with his money and I didn’t like that and I would get angry and just destroy everything with no regard for its price or the consequences that would come with it. David was very controlling he was a crack dealer, who had a daughter the same age as mine, as a young teenage mother afraid of life and not shown anything by my mother and father but to be abused I went where I needed to be at in order to be here today.

Chapter 3: Freedom to Live

I dealt with the lines of David’s abuse for approximately two years and six months. There was constant back and forth between his trap house on Ridge and my mother’s house on Isabella. There was nothing in me that had clicked to knowing my worth and how I should have been treated. All David did was give money, and have his crack heads steal clothing and jewelry. He did nothing for my daughter as that was left up to me. My daughter’s father never did anything for her and his family was neither here nor there when it came to her. David and I would go on our separate journeys and meet up with hopes to rekindle only a few months later. It was then that David had decided he wanted to give me what I had asked for in the beginning, only that came with a price to pay.

Living with David and his addiction to money and cars had grown overwhelming, I felt like there was no place for me to be or no real truth to my story. As I’ve stated before David and I rekindled our romance and he finally got me an apartment. I felt that it was all a set up, but learning of this news I still was happy to finally have a stable place for me and my daughter to call home, that wasn’t filled with the smell of crack smoke, and the despondency of guilt. The trap was filled with roaches, had no kitchen and bathroom with just a shower and a toilet adjacent to one another. I tried my best to keep it together, but cooking on a hot plate and having to wash my dishes in the bathroom sink left me angered and enraged with the fact that I settled for something that I should’ve never settled for. I felt that David didn’t respect me so I didn’t respect him. I would do anything to show him how much I didn’t care about him, his daughter, his time, and his money. I would break things, I would call the police, I would call his daughter stupid amongst the many other things. I would still take care of her but he would do things to my daughter as well. He would get money and invest in his car, I was not the most important thing to David and neither was my daughter.

David hadn’t waken up to reality he was still a young boy in the body of a grown man and that kept me upset and bitter for years. When David got me and my daughter the apartment I had to find a way to get rid of him. I was unhappy, not only with my choices but with who he had turned into. All he cared about was that orange truck. Things had gotten so bad that he would leave us in the house all day with no transportation or food and wait on him to come back to feed us. It was at this jaw breaking moment that I had to leave. I had to plan out my escape. I had to figure out what was best for me. David had been gone all day and I was in general just in the house. He had come back from trapping and asked what did I want to eat, I said Rally’s, he brought back a Big Buford and some fries with him, he also had some CDs and movies. We had just moved into the apartment so we had to adapt to watching movies on a portable DVD player, reminding you that he sells drugs for a living but there was every excuses on why we lacked.

Not caring to question where his money was going I tried to enjoy our time together. I picked through some movies but kept getting frustrated at what he brought back, but looking out on today my frustrations steamed from far more than an action movie. When I chose what movie I wanted to watch he would make a statement to me that made no sense at all. We began to argue and I grew more and more frustrated with David that I just instantly threw the CD book at him. I mean I deliberately took out every CD and flung them across the room, he was ducking and blocking and trying his best not to get hit.

David got angry and tried to leave, the big age gap between us was evident but the way he treated women especially young women, was a red flag to say the least. I tried to stop him from leaving like the little 19 year old girl I was by taking his keys before he could get them. When I grabbed hold of the keys I decided to run outside and key his car, after I came from one side of the truck, he met me on the other side and punched me with a closed fist square in the jaw, knocking me to the ground. After I regained my strength I got up and kept fighting. He tried to get in his truck and leave but I didn’t stay on the ground long at all, before he could start the engine I was in the passenger seat crying holding my face. We went back into the house where the argument ensued and I told him he had fractured my jaw, he said he didn’t.

The next morning would come and he would be nowhere in sight. I decided to walk to the payphone to call the police as I was without a cellphone in the early 2010s. Sure enough he disappeared and we didn’t speak to each other for a while after that. I ended up in the emergency room with a fractured mandible and needed to take Tylenol threes, once a day. My big sister came up to get me, and she took me and my daughter back to her apartment for the night. There I would order things for a new phone and call to get some protection. I called my daughter’s father Christopher and we would finally be a family, at least in my mind.

I went back to my apartment on 20th Street. I didn’t know what was next for me and my daughter. Although he paid the rent for the month I was still obliged to protect myself as much as I had knew how and ensure that me and my daughter remained stable. I called my daughter’s father down to help me with his daughter while I get on my feet. He had come but the same ole same ole still occurred. My daughter’s father was a bad omen and a horrible person to say the least. And nothing had changed except I had something he could benefit from. Christopher was in and out and the month we had shared together was just as toxic as it was when we first became parents. I decided I had enough. I knew that this was my daughter and that I had to face this battle alone and whatever that looked like I had to accept it.

I wound up calling my friend from high school, I had never thought to call him while I was in the middle of growing pains, but this year felt different. To be honest I had long forgotten about him. Once we connected via telephone he shared with me some family secrets or drama he had going on I told him to be safe and I invited him to see my place. He said to me in a sterile but confusing tone, “you got an apartment?”My reply was “yes”. Although my motive to that was to see if he would help me, but he never took the invite seriously as during the middle of the conversations he said he will call me back and that was the last I had heard from him over the next few years. Events occurred strangely to say the least, and it seemed as if the more I tried to win at life the more pushback I received from it. The woes and struggles would continue as it seems as if I was operating underneath a veil of an evil wicked spell and the vessel of me was plagued in a darkened room with no where to escape.

Chapter 4: Curses and Cursors

My daughter’s father would move out shortly after my reconnection with my friend, in fact he would be the one to provide the phone that connected me and the guy. Christopher ended up getting some money from his mother to help with the rent, well it was at least supposed to go towards that. Instead it went into his drug habit. I mean he didn’t even think to get our daughter a toy. As I try to build myself through college, work, and a full time committed mother I was excited about the family ventures that lasted only about as good as his mentality would allow him to pretend he cared for us. That is until one day he suddenly he fell ill, he had tracks in his hands, and kept saying he needed to sleep. During the week day I would leave the house going to the library with our daughter to teach her to read and give her time to explore her curious mind, and he would sit in the house listening to music. I mean music that I now classify as demonic due to the rearrangement of my faith. One song in particular that stood out the most was Usher’s “Make me wanna” he would play this song repeatedly on a daily basis while laying in the floor as I never had thought to invest in furniture for the apartment.

My main focus was being stable and for the next month we were so I had to make the best of what I had and take advantage of every opportunity to make a difference in Mi’Kele’s life. I was hired on at Walmart in the bakery department and I was excited. I had worked something out with the landlord to see if I could pay the rent late, due to the fact that her father was irresponsible but so had felt we had hope with the job. Christopher and I came up with an agreement that he can take our daughter to school and I go to work, he can live with us and we can be happy. I mean we were 19, 20 year old kids I lived in a lie and he fed that lie with his hidden motives and intentions. I didn’t know any better.

I sold myself a dream, I never not once thought why now, when I was the one putting in all the actions to be mislead and deceived when he had showed me what we meant when he left us to struggle. Christopher had come into thousands of dollars and never for once cared about me or my daughter, but I still believed in the power of lust. I sat at the brinks of a false reality and allowed myself to be abused by both him and his family for years without speaking up for myself by walking away.

There was this one day in particular where I had to be at work for training and he had left the day before, his sister stayed in the building next to us so I was lucky to able to find a replacement sitter for my first shift. My daughter’s father had stolen the food stamp card with the intent to sell them. I searched high and low in every corner and pocket I could find for my card, one night I was laying in bed and decided to call the 1-800 number on the back of the card to report it stolen. I had already memorized the 16 digit card number on the front of the card. Once the card was reported stolen her father would pop up, this was all of course after I had lost my job due to lack of child care assistance and found myself back on the bottom of life yet again searching for my way to the top. He would show up angered that the card didn’t work, and proclaim he was trying to help me and my daughter. But when he came back he was met with a reality that ruined his identity as a man or as to what we believed was a man, in the conspiracies of his blinded truth

After Christopher’s stint and blow up we had an altercation. I had moved on in my mind and had a guy by the name of John spending the night just for company mama men I dealt with like John was due to the fear of being alone or trying to prove to Christopher I didn’t want him. John was a drug dealer who sold marijuana and believed that he was going to turn my place into his kingdom of dope dealing heaven plagued with the identity of my poor choices, but God had other plans. Christopher and I would have a fight in front of our then three year old daughter about John leaving my house while he was coming in. When my daughter’s father and I got into our altercation he wound up hemming me up against the wall twisting my jaw even more after I decided not to show up to have it wired shut. I decided to leave the apartment there was too much bad that was happening and too many things were occurring that was beyond my control. John believed that he was going to do what he wanted to do and treat me like I was some prostitute or whore, so I stole his weed and moved back in with my mother. Not knowing anything about the drug dealing business I just roughly made the best with what I had. My goal was to never ever get sucked into the lifestyle of fast money but if I had too to use it as a means to survive and get through day to day while my situation wasn’t the best I dealt with what I had in order for her and I to love to share our stories.

After I left my apartment due to almost being evicted my mother said we could stay with her for a while. That was the worst feeling in the world. My mother never treated me right when it came to certain things and there is more to that later.

Chapter 5: Borderline Insanity

After going back to my mother’s two bedroom apartment near the Hanley station, I developed a plan that would again fail to prosper. I decided to sell the weed I had stolen from John. I bagged up the ounce of weed in quarters and would sell them for cheap. I set up shop without my mother’s knowledge mainly when she was at work. This was when I would maneuver after I had put my daughter down for bed. Most of my weed deals consisted of me giving away free weed. My brother was the best customer. When I finally made the one sale I did make, I sold it for $20.00 and it was three blunts in there. On the night I made a sale to a guy who had lived in the adjacent building of my mother, I tried to convince him to put a word out, but to no avail changes would swarm in and, God would slap me back to the brinks of reality once again. The street life just wasn’t for me.

As I sat on the porch thinking, I couldn’t understand how to be a dealer if I wanted to. I never talked to anyone as I was always to myself. It had taken me a few attempts and fails to recognize selling drugs was not for the introverted personality I carry. Not only was I not interested in the lifestyle, I was afraid of the results it could bring. My father was a prime example of this matter. I always felt that gambling wasn’t in the best interest for me or my daughter. I didn’t indulge in smoking, and drinking, parties, or even the material lifestyle that came with the choices I was making. I believe I was acting on the instances of survival and developed the skills I simply believed would work because I saw my mother intertwine her life in that matter.

Being that she was my only example in life I had timo learn, I had no idea what awaited on the other side. I had no real help or guidance as to what to do next, I mean I was trying but, in my opinion I kept failing. As I sat alone in my thoughts years later, I recognized how much of a loser I was trying to fill a void in my life based on the inexperiences of someone else’s truth. I was a follower, and the things I was following was a generational curse that had me bounded by the control of my mother and the hatred my father had towards women.

An incident would occur between my mother and I and a heated discussion would soon follow as I ended up leaving her residence with my daughter. And like always afraid of the dark, I found someone wandering in the shadows of my mere existence lurking to destroy what I had yet to learn about myself. My calling was exposed loud and clear and many broken men could sense it, but I have yet to follow through with learning what self love truly meant. I ran into a local joker, he was a disused jail bird living out his nephew’s girlfriend’s apartment. The only thing that was interesting to me about this guy was his looks, he didn’t have money, and he was older.

Upon meeting him I knew he was a user, but I thought that I could get more out of the situation being that I was a young woman with a child. There were so many instances in which I exploited myself trying to escape the reality of my mother’s rules.

Author’s Note: This is a rough draft of a book I am enjoying while writing.