#guyanna

RIHANNA

“Do not fuck with me.”

His voice got louder, brown eyes growing to a shade of black.

It was the look of an insane person.

The look of someone who was at the end of their rope.

I guess he felt like he had nothing to lose.

Chris stared me down coldly.  He had become a stranger right before my eyes.  The transformation scared the shit out of me but I held my ground.  He was something like a wild animal right now.  And like an animal if he smelled fear he was likely to attack.

I had to remain calm, cool and confident.

Easier said than done.

“Just give me the box and let me do what I need to,” he said through gritted teeth.

“I don’t think we can have much of a conversation if you don’t use your inside voice,” I replied causally, studying the design on my nails.  I did that like I didn’t have a care in the world.  Like my heart wasn’t about to go through my chest.  My tone was belittling as I gave a look of mock pity.

As you can imagine it only pissed him off even more.

Voice strained he spoke slowly, his patience being tested.  “I. Don’t. Want. To. Talk.  I want this to be over with.”  His fist clenched over his chest like whatever pain he was feeling had suddenly become unbearable.  Slowly his shoulders slumped, his body growing slack.  The rage faded.  Hands planted on his head he scaled the wall until he ended up on the floor.

“I can’t do this,” he whispered shaking his head.  “I can’t go on like this.”

I didn’t know this person.

Christopher Maurice Brown was not weak.

He didn’t crumble.

He didn’t fall.

I had never seen him break a sweat in any situation. 

I had this image of him in my head and this wasn’t it.

Maybe it was the wrong reaction but he was making me mad, angrier than I had been when I walked in on this mess. 

I tried to reign in my sarcasm but I just couldn’t.  “The celebrity overdose?  Come on Chris, I know you're more creative than that.  You want the box?”  I located the chair that now had three legs instead of four and pulled it over to the wardrobe.  Balancing I stood on top and pulled it down.  I threw it at him as hard as I could.  “There.  Knock yourself out.  Literally.”

He ripped open the cardboard like his life depended on it.

Multiple pill bottles fell out.

I had the good stuff, nothing generic.

Vicodin.

Oxycontin.

Percoset.

Morphine.

They all pretty much did the same thing but it never hurt to have variety.

Then there were the psychotropic drugs because apparently I was bi-polar, suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder and was clinically depressed. 

I could put a pharmacy out of business with my stash.

I dabbled in extracurricular activities, some weed from time to time and a little coke if the occasion called for it but I was not a pill head.  If I took any number of these, like I had been advised to, I’d be in a corner somewhere drooling on myself.

I had the experience to prove it.

Let’s just say I wasn’t unfamiliar with the inside of a psych ward.

Being restrained to a bed, having your meds shoved into your veins and being forced to swallow pills wasn’t something you forgot. 

Which was why I never touched what was inside here. 

It’s not like I needed them anyway.  I wasn't the crazy one here.

Not even stopping to consider his options Chris popped the top off a bottle so fast the contents spilled on the floor.  That didn’t seem to matter to him.  He scrambled to retrieve them.

He was a fiend.  No better than a junkie after their next high.

It disturbed me like nothing else pulling at one of those memories I kept buried in the back of my mind.

I was six and they were fighting.  Again.

In the kitchen my parents screamed at each other.

I watched from  the cabinet under the sink clutching a tattered rag doll to my chest.  It was my usual hiding spot, the place I went whenever I wanted to disappear. 

My mother was her knees in front of my father, her pride weakened.  Her face was bloodied, the result of getting back handed. A steady flow of tears ran down her pretty brown skin.  Her crying made me cry.  Silently I wiped my face with the back of my hand watching a scene that would haunt me for the rest of my life.

“Think about your family.  Your child needs you.  I need you.  Just stop.  If you don’t do it for us, do it for yourself,” Monica pleaded.

He ignored her, not attempting to argue anymore.

I wished he would.

Hearing him yell was scary but this was so much worse.

Using his teeth, he pulled at the belt around his arm.

I didn’t know what I was seeing at the time, I only knew that it was something bad. 

“Ronald please.”

Her cries fell on deaf ears.

As soon as that needle entered his skin he was gone, lost to everything and everyone around him.

Heroine claimed his soul.

It was the beginning of the end for him.

That’s where Chris was bringing me right now, the hell hole that was my past.

“Are you really this selfish?” I asked squinting at him.  He paused, a number of pills in his hand.  “You’d put your family through another tragedy because you’re having a weak moment?”

“You don’t understand,” he replied sullenly.

I blinked incredulously.  “How could I not!?”  Now I was the one that needed to use their inside voice.  “You feel empty and lost and sad and just plain fucked up.  I get all of that.  I lost someone too.  Gran Gran wasn’t my mother but she might’ve well as been.”

Ashamed he bowed his head.

“You’re not the only one going through something.  In case you haven’t noticed the world is full of sob stories and unhappy endings.  This life is about struggle so if you want to end yours be my guest.  Just think about what that will do to those around you.  Your actions don’t just affect you, remember that next time.”  I scoffed and reconsidered my words. “You know if there is a next time.”

I started to leave but thought better of it.

He wasn’t going to off himself with my meds.

I snatched the pills out of his hand and grabbed the box, dumping the bottles inside. 

Now I could go.

“Find another way to kill yourself and while you're at it try to keep it down.  I would tell you not to make a mess but it looks like you’ve already accomplished that.”

I stormed out, slamming the door so hard the floor shook.

I probably shouldn’t have left him alone but I was too irate to stick around.  I shoved my bare feet back into my boots and kicked open the front door.

The beach was already occupied so I headed in the other direction, never mind that it was practically jungle.

I wandered through trees trying to follow the path in the darkness.

If I remembered it correctly it should be-there.  The hammock had seen better days but I still eased into it.  It was another one of my childhood spots.  While Manuella and my mother would stay up late talking and drinking wine I’d sneak off to catch the view.

There was no smog here, not fumes, no air traffic just stars.

I laid there a while staring up at them.

It was as good a time as any to evaluate my existence.

Chris needed to be fitted for a straight jacket, Cai was nowhere to be found and I was stuck having to deal with it all.  It was to screwed up for words.  I did something I hadn’t done in a while.  '

I prayed. 

I wasn’t sure to who I was talking to or even if I was doing it right but I figured the big guy (or girl) up there heard me.  If they didn’t it was no love lost, it had helped clear my head some.  My lack of liquor consumption over the last week probably helped too.

I had no idea how I long I stayed there but eventually I pulled myself up.  I had to get back to reality, no matter how confusing it was.

The house was silent when I got back.

I couldn’t tell if that was a good or bad thing.

There was only one way to find out.

I took a breath, relief washing over me as I opened my bedroom door.  It didn’t look so much like a disaster area anymore.  Some of the furniture had been put back in its place, at least the stuff that wasn’t in pieces.

“You’re still alive,” I said flatly.

Chris was on the bed, arms folded behind his head.  He was studying the ceiling like it held the answers to his problems.  “Thanks to you.”

I shrugged not knowing what to say.  I was past exhausted.

“You were right,” he said after a moment.  “I was being selfish.  It would destroy my family, my father especially.  He’d not only loose his wife but his son too.”  He sat up against the headboard.  “It’s not the first time, you know.  I thought about doing this the day of her-“ He struggled to say the word, “funeral.  I don’t know what gets into me.  It’s like I’m trapped and I can't escape any other way.  That’s stupid right?”

“Not at all,” I said.  “It’ll get better Chris.  It has to.”

“You really believe that?”

“No but it sounded like the right thing to say.”

He chuckled.  “I love your honesty kid.”

“At this point, it’s all I’ve got.”

The corner of his mouth crept up into a sad smile.  “Is it bad that this isn’t just about my mother?”

“Depends,” I replied.  “What else is on your mind?"

He gave a simple answer:  “You.”

I arched an eyebrow.  “Me?”

He nodded slowly.  “The way you looked at me in the kitchen earlier-it did something to me.  It was like I disgusted you, like you couldn’t wait to get away from me.  Then the thing on the way to the airport.  I brush up against you by accident and your cringe.  Your body language says you don’t trust me and I guess I just never thought we’d end up like this.”

That made two of us.

I didn’t say anything, letting him continue.

“I want you.  I always will but if we never get back together I just want you to know that I appreciate all that you’ve done for me and that I’m sorry-sorry for all that I’ve done to you.”

I searched for the con but found none.  He was serious.  It was easy to blame him for our dysfunctional relationship but I played a major role in it too. 

I hadn’t been the best girlfriend. 

He hadn’t been the best boyfriend. 

I guess we were equally bad partners.

I thought all of this but that didn’t mean I had to admit to any of it.

“Our relationship wasn’t the healthiest Chris.  We didn’t treat each other right so for that I’m sorry too.”

It looked like we had finally reached a truce.

It was fragile probably temporary but it was something.

“You should get some sleep,” I said not acknowledging our semi-breakthrough.  Being around him was strange enough.  If we kept being civil to each other I didn’t know where we’d end up.

His eyes became anxious.  “You could stay.  This is your room after all.  I always sleep better with you around anyway.”

That was true although when we got in bed together there wasn’t much sleeping going on-if you know what I mean.

A bed.

With him in it.

It was asking for trouble.

“I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

He winked.  “No hands Rih.”

I rolled my eyes and fought to hold back my smile.  “Just for tonight,” I warned.  “Stick to your side and I’ll do the same.  No funny business."

"No funny business," he confirmed.

I pulled out sweats and a long sleeved t-shirt, not advisable in the heat but I was trying to make myself as unappealing as I could.  Realizing that my phone was still on the porch I went down and got it, half hoping that I had a missed call.

There was nothing.

Somewhat disappointed I got in bed with Chris.

The remaining lamp was turned off and the curtains opened, letting moonlight in.

“Good night Robyn.”

I looked over my shoulder.  “Night Christopher.”

I felt him staring at me but soon enough he was snoring quietly.  I didn’t have the same luck.  I wanted to shut my mind off but I couldn’t.

She was occupying it once again.

I reached for my phone and began to dial for the millionth time but stopped abruptly.  My bedmate was making himself comfortable.  Against me.  His body was warm against mine, his arm wrapping protectively around my waist.  At first I thought he was awake but nope he was still out of it.

For whatever reason I didn’t shift away.

Wedging the phone between my ear and the pillow I listened to the familiar rings.  She wasn’t going to pick up.  I didn’t expect her too.   I only wanted to humor myself right now.

Her voice mail message played on cue.

Six more times I dialed listening to her voice before drifting off.

RIHANNA

“Hey you’ve reached Cai.  I’m not here to take your call right now but if you leave your name and number I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”

That wasn’t true.

I’d been calling but she hadn’t gotten back to me.

The beep sounded, my signal to leave another message but I disconnected the call.  I didn’t know the capacity of her voicemail box but it had to be nearly full, courtesy of yours truly.

Those first couple of days I went a little overboard.  It wasn’t entirely my fault though.  I’d been a little drunk.

Okay so it was more than a little.

I’d drowned my sorrows so much I ended up in a hospital bed.

Exhaustion and dehydration were what the official discharge papers said to anyone who went looking.  Unofficially I had alcohol poisoning.  There was so much liquor in my system that it had to be flushed out.  I’d been clubbing two days in a row, going harder than I ever had.

They found me passed out, body cold. 

I didn’t remember that but I did remember the unbearable ache in my chest while I drank myself into a coma. I kept thinking it would get better but it just didn’t.

To put it simply I was a mess.

Not on the outside of course.

To everyone around I was the same sarcastic and sassy Rihanna, the girl who always wore a smile and had a wise crack for everything.  On the inside it was a different story. 

I was dying.

Was that being dramatic?  Possibly but I couldn’t describe what I was feeling any other way.  My heart was broken into so many pieces I couldn’t begin to figure out how to put it back together.  Kind of reminded me of the first time I got dumped.  I was fourteen and cried my eyes out until I couldn’t see straight. 

This time around it was ten times worse.

This wasn't juvenile puppy love pain.  This was the ugly kind, the type that had me screaming inside for help.  I was drowning and the one person who could save me wasn’t around.

The two weeks since she left felt more like two years.

I didn’t want to feel this.  I told myself I’d never go here again but here I was.  My life kept repeating itself.  It was like that movie Groundhog Day.  I kept waking up to the same thing over and over.

I was trying not to care but despite my best efforts I was a bleeding heart, someone who felt way more than they should.

I was worried.

She had to know that.

Cai was unemployed, pregnant and prone to self mutilation but apparently my concern didn’t matter.  Countless calls and texts had gone unanswered.  She had literally dropped off the face of the Earth.  Maybe she was trying to clear her head or maybe she just wanted to distance herself from me.  It was probably some of both.

I was the monster after all.

Kincaid’s words, not mine.

She told me that yesterday as she sat hunched over her laptop, fingers flying across the keyboard.  My sister didn’t anymore patience when it came to me.  In the two days she flew to New York to meet with her publisher I’d gotten myself hospitalized. 

It was there that I spilled.

I told her everything, every sordid detail. 

My hours long confession only succeeded in making me feel even more crappy.  Somehow speaking about all that I had done to Cai made it more real.  More horrific.

“I wish I could say that I’m surprised,” Kincaid said in that matter-of-fact way of hers, “but I’m not.  When you feel like someone has done you wrong it’s like you black out and you don’t wake up until you’ve gotten revenge.  I don’t think you realize how scare you can be.”

Scary and a monster.  I was a regular horror show.

Clenching the phone in my hand I swallowed hard, struggling with my bad decisions.  It was kind of hard to be in my skin right now.  Getting through the day was like trying to walk though quick sand and I was just barely making it. 

I couldn’t afford to clock out at the moment.

It was someone else’s turn to fall apart now.

I didn’t have to look to know that he was watching me but like everyone else in the car I remained silent.  Kincaid and Lex were keeping quiet out of respect while I just had nothing to say.

I wasn’t the only one going through something here.

My ex-boyfriend was too.

As a group we were headed to the airport.

Traveling to Guyanna might sound like a vacation but it was more like an extraction.  It was a much needed change of environment.  I couldn’t take looking at him anymore.  As much I  grew to hate him while we were in a relationship I could still be there for him.

Chris was wasting away and I had to do something about it.

I couldn’t watch him like I had Cai.

I twisted in my seat and pulled at my ponytail in frustration.  The mere thought of her made my stomach drop.  I needed to take a page out of his book and become numb.

Muted emotion.

Chris seemed to be perfecting it.  Since the funeral he hadn’t cried, hadn’t gotten angry or even sad.  He didn’t seem to be capable of anything remotely human. We all handled our grief in a different way and he was internalizing.

It was only a matter of time though. 

He was going to pop sooner or later.

Still occupied with my thoughts I forgot that I was under scrutiny until I felt his touch.  I looked down and saw Chis’s hand against mine.  His eyes were fixed on me, a serious expression on his face.  Something about it made me uncomfortable.  I didn’t know how I felt about him anymore. 

We weren’t together and I couldn’t really call him a friend.  It was a weird grey area that left me at a loss for how to deal with him. Wanting to keep our dealings neutral I pulled out of his grasp.  I didn’t want him getting any ideas.  The move was enough to make him back down. 

Awkward tension rested between us but thankfully we pulled into a private lot at the airport.  We piled out of the car making our way to the waiting jet.

It was 4am, all of us groggy.

In the twenty minutes it took to lift off everyone was sound asleep. 

Everyone except me.

I sipped a Bloody Mary a flight attendant prepared for me and stared out the window.  “How did you get here Rihanna?” I asked myself quietly.

I snorted and tucked my legs underneath me.

There were just too many answers to that one

------------------

My boots hit the dirt road, an actual smile on my face.

I hadn’t been here in ages but nothing much had changed.

Tropical plants grew all around, flowers in every color imaginable blooming.  Beyond the foliage sat a two story house painted purple. Beyond that was blue ocean.

This folks was paradise.

Or at least my definition of it.

Barbadoes was my home but Guyanna was special to me too.  This place had the kind of beauty only God could create.  That’s what Monica would tell me whenever we came to visit.  It was the perfect place to escape.

And forget.

Select few knew that I owned a house here.  It was my mother’s childhood home.  When I found out it was about to knocked down so some hotel could build on the waterfront I bought it and the land it sat on.  It was remote, away from prying eyes and barely got an internet connection.

No one would realize I was here, Chris either.

We needed privacy and this place had it.

Kincaid hopped out of the Jeep after me shielding her eyes from the afternoon sun.  Like me she hadn’t been here in years.  Lex came to stand beside her. Chris lingered behind.  He didn’t seem as impressed as the rest of us.

We were heading up the make-shift driveway when the front door of the house opened.  A curvy woman in a flowered dress came rushing toward us.  I grinned so hard my cheeks hurt.  Like little girls Kincaid and I ran up to her.

Manuella Santos.

She was pushing fifty but hadn’t aged a day.  They said Black didn’t crack but Latina didn’t either.  She was our godmother and one of my mother’s oldest friends.  She lived nearby and took care of the property.  Like we were her own she hugged and planted kisses all over our faces.  Standing back she wiped happy tears from her eyes.  “You two are all grown up and beautiful.  Ay dios mio, looking at both of you makes me feel so old.”

I squeezed her again.  “Oh hush.  You know you do damage.”

“On a bad day,” Kincaid added.

She touched her baby making hips before winking. “Enjoy those bodies while they last.  You only get to be young once.”

That was good news.  I wouldn’t do this shit again if someone paid me to.

She glanced behind us noticing the men.  “You must be Lex.”  She pulled him into an embrace.  “You're this diva’s assistant huh?  How is that going?” she joked.

Lex gave me a sly smile.  “Couldn’t be better.”

Good answer.

Last but not least she came to Chris.  Mauella approached him with caution, her smile more understanding.  I’d already filled her in on the situation.  She only knew him for his celebrity and the incident in 2009 but her sympathy was genuine.  Her maternal instincts won out over any judgments she might have.  “Chris,” she said gently.  “I’m very glad that you decided to visit.  I hope that you feel better when you leave.  This place has always brought me some form of peace.  I hope it has the same effect on you.”

He stared at her for a while before nodding.  “Thank you.”

Two words but it was something.  I kind of thought he’d ignore her.  I was even more surprised when he let her pull him into a hug. 

Baby steps but steps nonetheless.

“I’m sure you’re all hungry.  I have dinner on the stove so wash up and let’s eat.”

We followed after her, aromas hitting us at the door.  My stomach grumbled.  Food had been the last thing on my mind recently but now I was more than ready dig in. The others went upstairs to claim rooms but I followed Manuella to the kitchen.  Callaloo, bake and saltfish, mofongo, paella-if I ate like this my waistline would have serious issues.  I dipped my spoon into the soup sipping it. 

Oh yeah I was going to put on some pounds.

“He’s hurting.”

“Huh?” I asked too focused on stuffing my face.

“Your friend,” Manuella clarified.  She slapped at my hand and pointed at the sink.  The cue to wash my hands.  I pouted but did what she asked.  “He’s suffering and so are you.  I feel it.”

I shrugged not admitting anything.  “We all aren’t we? I think I figured out how life goes.  You get fucked over and then you die.  It’s less complicated than everyone makes it out to be.”

“Watch your mouth,” she scolded untying the apron around her waist.  “The good puts life in perspective Robyn, not the bad.”

Yeah sure.

From where I was standing there was more of the later than the former.  If my godmother only knew what I’d been up to the last three months she’d probably be throwing holy water on me instead of giving me kind words.

“Hope mi amor.  If you have that everything will eventually work out.”

“You sure about that?” I asked leaning against the counter.

“Positive.”

I had serious doubts about that but I said nothing more.

“A package came for you.”  She pointed toward the rickety desk in the corner.  It was a mid-sized box addressed to Beverly Jennings.  Couldn’t have something like this coming in my government.  Too much of a trail.  Once a month I got this in the mail.  Didn’t matter where I was it came like clockwork.

“You are on schedule?”

“As much as I can be,” I said lamely.  “I’m a busy girl.”

“Uh-huh,” she replied unconvinced.  “Your health and well-being is more important than anything.”

“I agree.”

We both looked up at the intrusion.  Chris was standing there.  He was sneaky.  I hadn’t even noticed him.  Quickly I put the box in my tote hoping that he hadn’t noticed it.  It was wishful thinking.  Whenever I was around he watched me like I disappear at any moment.

As creepy as it was I found it strangely appealing.

I shook out of that fast.  There was nothing appealing about a cheating, abusive womanizer.  Because that of course was what he was.  He’d proven that too many times.  If I kept that in mind I’d be safe.

We shared a look, everything he’d done to me flashing in my mind.  My face must have displayed hate because he looked stunned.  This entire time I’d been trying to be the bigger person putting my pettiness in perspective for his sake but I could hardly forget how fucked up he’d treated me.

Manuella cleared her throat to break my trance.  “Sit, both of you.  I’ll fix your plates.”

“Do that.  I need to clean up first,” I mumbled.  I slid past Chris, careful not to touch any part of him.  “I’ll be back.”  I took the room at the end of the hall passing by Lex and Kincaid.  They were discussing literary devices of all things.  Nerds always stuck together and these two were like two peas in a pod.  Kin was hard to read but Lex was practically transparent.  When he wasn’t running behind me he followed her around like a shadow.

They were sickening.

Only because they were cute.

Chris and I used to be like that.

I cursed under my breath as I threw my bags down on the canopy bed.  Why did I even care about what we used to be like?  It wasn’t like we were ever going to go back to that.  I held my poker face well but being around him brought back stupid feelings I didn’t want to feel.  That was normal.  You couldn’t be with someone for years then feel absolutely nothing when you ended things.  I didn’t love him, I was just having a kneejerk reaction.

Right?

Right.  I forced myself to believe that as I put some clothes away.  I took a quick shower and changed into a dress.  The box stared at me when I came out of the bathroom.

The decision always gave me pause but past experience ruled over reason.

I wasn’t going to be a zombie again.

The shit in here had the ability to turn you out.

I did an okay job with that on my own.  Some other time, I thought.  I stood on a chair and tucked the box behind and old wardrobe attached to the wall.  I then headed back downstairs.

Things might be weird between Chris and I but that wouldn’t keep me from a home cooked meal.

------------------------

As it turned out I had nothing to worry about.

When I got to the table he had already excused himself.  Before Manuella went back to her own house she checked on him and informed me that he was sleeping. 

It was now late evening, the sun going down in the distance.

I sat on the back porch appreciating the view.  I drank from a Corona while I rolled a blunt. 

Don’t judge.

I needed this. Besides there were worst things I could inhale. 

I wanted to relax but the quiet only amplified my rampant thoughts.   

My tour was complete but I had the task of finishing my new album.  Whenever I got back to the states Dimitri was willing to work with me exclusively until it was done.  I had another shoot for Armani and an audition for some remake Universal was doing.  I was opening for the MTV Video Music Awards and hosting an after party.

Career wise thing were good but I couldn’t seem enjoy it.

I glanced at my phone anxiously.

It had one bar.

Maybe this time she’d actually pick up.

I was counting the rings when I heard a loud thump above me. 

The sound of glass shattering followed.

I was on my feet in seconds hurrying back inside.  A crash shook the floor when I got to the top of the staircase.  I didn’t hesitate even though I was alone.  Lex and Kincaid were on the beach doing whatever.  She didn’t want to leave me alone but I had convinced her to go.  I knew she was as tired of me as I was of her. 

I wished she was here now.  She was better equipped to deal with this.

I leaned against the doorframe just as a lamp smashed into pieces against the wall. 

My clothes were strewn across the floor, the mattress was flipped and besides the wardrobe every piece of furniture was broken or turned over.

Anger slowly made its way through me as I watched him single handedly wreck my bedroom.  I knew the meltdown was coming but did he have to destroy my property in the process?

I folded my arms across my chest and kept my voice calm.  “Looking for something?” He ignored me and kept at his tantrum.

“If you tell me it might speed this up some.”

Chris kicked a hole into a nearby wall before glaring at me.  “Where is it!?” he growled.

“Where is what?” I asked feigning innocence.

“The fucking box.  Where is it?”