Addiction: A short story by Shubricca L Bell (Final Part 4)


So, remember how I was telling you that Jamison wasn’t trying to hear that I was breaking things off with him? Apparently after I took my house keys from him, he had others made, and when I got off work, he was once again, in my house. “Jamison, what are you doing here? Please stop making this more difficult than it already is. We’re done. 

Go home to your wife. The next thing I know, Ebony was behind me once again, but this time with a gun. “You just couldn’t leave us alone, could you?” she said, with her gun pressed firmly into the lower part of my back. “Ebony, please. Don’t shoot. 

Think about your son. If you kill me, and go to jail, who will raise your son?” I said. “Shut up!” she yelled. “Baby, put the gun down,” Jamison said. “Don’t baby me, after you convinced me to go to Vegas and marry you,” she said. 

“You told me that you were done with her, but now I know that you only married me because you knew I was going to go back to the hospital and kill this trick, the first time I knocked her ass out!” “What?” I said. “Didn’t I tell you to shut up?” Ebony said, as she pulled back the hammer on the gun. I’m not going to lie, I was scared as hell. In my head I started confessing and repenting because I was literally facing death, and I didn’t know if I was going to come out alive. 

I should have listened to that voice that told me, it wasn’t worth it. I should have ended this foolishness a long time ago, but I couldn’t let go. My addiction to vengeance that was fueled by my obsession of a man who was never truly mine to begin with, had put me on a self destructive path that it wasn’t no turning back from. “God please,” I pleaded in my mind. “Don’t let me go out like this. 

I tried to break it off with Jamison. I was ready to walk away. I know that I’ve done a lot of wrongs, but please, don’t let this be the consequence.” The crazy thing is, we don’t get to choose the consequences of our sins. Every time we sin, we’re taking a gamble, and the only thing we can do is what I’m doing now; ask for forgiveness and pray to God that we didn’t do something that felt good for a moment, but could later cost us our life. 

“Ebony? Ebony what are you doing?” It was Winfred, walking up the hallway. He caught Ebony off guard, and she shot her dad, in the chest. “Dad,” she cried, before she threw the gun on the floor and rushed over to him. She got down on her knees, holding Winfred’s head up on her lap. 

“Daddy, please. No, no, no, no, no!” Jamison ran out of my bedroom to see what was going on. “Oh my God, oh my God,” I said. I got my cell out of my purse and dialed 911. 

“We need an ambulance please, someone has been shot. Hurry please!” I cried. “Ebony,” Winfred said, as he spit up blood. His eyes got lower and lower until they closed. “Daddy please don’t go. 

I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to,” she sobbed. The ambulance got there in seven minutes. The police locked Ebony up. “Dad, please, save my dad. 

Dad, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it, she cried and sobbed, as the medics put Winfred in the ambulance. An officer read her her rights, and put her in the backseat of the police car. This was all bad. It felt as if the world was spinning super fast. 

Another officer tried talking to me but I couldn’t think. We went inside and sat, and he took a statement. “Will Winfred be okay?” I asked the officer. “I don’t know ma’am. The best thing that we can do in situations like this, is pray,” he said. That’s exactly what I did.

This was all my fault. I had no business bringing Winfred into my mess. The saying is true, “Hurt people, hurt people.” For a while I didn’t care to see what I was doing to Winfred because I felt like no one cared about my pain. That’s another thing about sin. 

Sometimes it’s not us who pay, but people close to us or other innocent people. It’s painful either way. I went to the hospital later that night and sat with Winfred all night. He was in critical condition. I didn’t sleep a wink. 

The next morning, the doctor came and gave me the news. Winfred was going to make it. “Thank you Jesus,” I shouted. Thank you doctor,” I said. I took care of Winfred the following weeks until he got better. 

He forgave me and that was all I needed, but he wanted us to start a new relationship. Too much had transpired. I didn’t think it was a good idea, but I kept in touch. Ebony got out of jail after a year in prison. As far as I know, her and Jamison are still together. 

I haven’t spoken to him in over a year and I plan to keep it that way. As for me, I’m still making movies and living life. I’m not dating though, because I’m still working on myself. I’m just grateful to be living, so I now live life taking nothing for granted. I look up to the sky and thank God for His mercy and grace and I reflect on the prayers my grandmother prayed, because if it wasn’t for her prayers covering me years ago, there’s no telling where I’d be.

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