Trigger Warning: This post includes graphic references to topics involving physical abuse and violence.
Photo by Anete Lusina on Pexels.com
Boed
Boed, or Bo as most called him, was one of the many boyfriends of Cream. (See the previous post titled “Cream”). I actually liked Bo. Many people thought that Bo and I were siblings. I would even say that we were friends, but we were only friends because of our connection with Cream.
Unlike Cream, I was not one to cross boundaries especially when it came to any of my friends’ boyfriends. I was loyal by default. I would have never considered hooking up with Bo the way Cream hooked up with the guys that I liked at all. Cream knew this. Therefore, she trusted me. In some form, Bo trusted me too, but he knew that my loyalties were first with Cream.
Bo was tall and handsome, but he was very immature. He was in love with Cream and wanted to eventually become her husband. Although I thought they were good for each other in a sense, I could never see Cream marrying Bo. Frankly, she used Bo as arm candy. In fact, she actually gained more male attention with Bo on her arm.
Any time she was out with Bo, she would be notified later by an admirer who showed interest in her. These interactions would cause Bo and Cream to argue. They would argue about his jealousy and his inability to control his temper. I thought I saw signs very early on with Bo that concerned me. Cream told me not to worry about it.
After Cream and I became roommates, Bo hung around the apartment quite often but not enough that Cream’s other guy friends did not come around though. Yet, at some point, it appeared that Bo’s presence became more prominent. He also seemed to become a dominant force within the household almost overnight. Had I been working too much to notice the change?
Although Bo did not live there, he attempted to set a tone at one point. I thought this was strange and also very out of character for him. He seemed to want to know everything that happened in the apartment. Cream seemed to give him lip service while doing as she pleased all the while. I paid him no mind either. Since he did not live there nor pay any bills, his demands went unheard. I mean, who was he?
At some point, Bo seemed to learn of Cream’s wandering eyes and cheating escapades and wanted to put a stop to it. He came to me and asked me what he could do. I was no help and told him to leave me out of it and that if he had a problem with what Cream was doing, then he needed to speak with her.
Bo complied with my advice and went to her. He and Cream argued about her philandering ways. I made note of the fact that their arguments always took place in her bedroom. They would shout loudly, and I would hear movement in the room as if things had turned physical. Cream even claimed that a few times Bo had hit her in the face. Although I never saw any physical bruises, I believed her.
I advised Cream to call the police and get medical attention, but she refused. She told me not to worry myself about it. She said that Bo apologized and promised not to do it again. If Bo behaved in the same manner that I knew that most abusive boyfriends would by hitting, apologizing, and hitting again, then I knew he would hit Cream again.
In fact, I had various experiences with abuse, and I had seen abuse happen to some of my other friends. I knew that once someone hit, they would most likely hit again. The apologies were a waste of breath and only words mouthed to absolve the abuser’s guilt. I cautioned Cream to be careful.
For a while, though, Bo and Cream seemed to be fine until I began to hear signs of what appeared to be more abuse. A raised voice here and an argument there was not enough of a sign to make me consider that the abuse had not stopped even though I never saw Cream with any physical bruises. I tried to make my presence more evident throughout the apartment hoping this would make Bo aware that I knew what was going on while there.
Sometimes Cream’s hair would be all over the place and her clothing disheveled, but there would be no physical marks on her. Yet, I would check on Cream and ask questions – mainly if she was okay. I always assumed she told me what she needed me to hear and nothing more. She gave the impression that things were all good. They were good, actually. I just had no clue how good. Yet, I worried nonetheless.
One Sunday, when I had the day off work, I could hear Bo and Cream arguing in her bedroom. She stormed out of the room to where I was in the den and sat down. I was watching a movie. Bo came out and began making demands. He said that from that point on if anyone wanted to leave the apartment, they would need to have his permission. Since there were only two of us that paid the bills and lived in the apartment, I actually needed to clarify who he was talking to. He certainly did not live there; nor did he pay bills. Later, I regretted entering this argument.
When he said that he was talking to whomever could hear, I looked up at him sideways. “No, you’re not talking to me,” I said. I looked at Cream. She looked at the floor. Then Bo said that Cream agreed. Again, I clarified that he could not have been talking to me. I was grown. I was not his girlfriend. He did not live there. Nope. Never. I turned away from him, picked up the remote, and turned up the volume on the television. I proceeded to ignore both he and Cream, and I was puzzled as to why she did not come to my defense.
Surprised by what appeared to him to be my disrespect, Bo walked over to the television and turned it off. I turned and looked at him, and then he started a vent against me. He told me all of the things that Cream had said about me … the things that she did not like that made living with me sometimes impossible. I did not flinch. He remarked how I was subleasing a room which made Cream in complete control of the apartment and all that happened there. What I said next stirred his anger. “So what? You are not anywhere on the lease. You don’t have a room. You have no rights here at all.” I turned the television back on.
What happened next sealed my destiny within the apartment for good, but I was not aware that my time was actually very limited there in the first place, and I had no idea that this was all orchestrated by design. Nothing Cream ever did after this point made it any better, and Bo was actually the wiser. At the moment I turned the television back on, Bo began a tirade against me. He yelled at as many obscenities that he could think to call me. I was actually shocked. Bo was like a brother to me and had never spoken an unkind word to me. I was confused as to where all of this as coming from.
I remained unmoved, however, but I remember looking at Cream. She looked more disappointed than victimized, and I did not quite understand what was going on. Bo’s yelling and loud badgering reminded me of the volatile environment I was accustomed to in my home while growing up. This surely was not a cycle I wished to repeat. What was going on here? The more Bo yelled, the more irritated I became until I jumped up and told him to leave me alone. He was literally standing over me as if to lean over me to exert his dominance while I was sitting on the couch. Yet, in the back of my mind I remember thinking that something about this whole thing seemed off.
When he uttered that all I needed was a good slap to put me in line, I turned and looked at Cream. She would not look at me. I do not know why I thought she would defend me especially if she could not defend herself. So I turned to Bo and told him that if he touched me he would have to deal with my cousin. To this response, Bo laughed and smirked, saying that he was not afraid of a cousin who thought the same thing about me and one who was not around.
“The point is no one even likes you … not even your own family! So, if I wanted to hit you, I’d get away with it,” he said. He also laughed. I looked at Cream who still had her eyes in a downward position towards the floor. I never told Bo anything personal about my family. Cream had a weird look on her face. So I turned back to Bo and cursed at him. I had toxic tendencies that made me no better than them. So I retorted back to him the things that Cream had told me about him, and then I turned to walk away from him. The next thing I knew, there were huge hands around my neck choking me to the floor.
Now, there are two times in my life that I have literally seen the color red, and this was one of those two times. Perhaps blood rushed from my neck to my face because Bo squeezed my neck so hard. Or maybe I was stunned that he actually put his hands around my neck. I remember coughing and hearing Cream in the background yelling not to squeeze so hard. At that moment, something inside of me clicked together, and I literally can tell you that I heard a snap. That snapping sound was not my neck.
The sound I heard was like something snapping into place so that things made sense. That’s when I knew … I knew it was all a trap, and I knew the two of them were in this together. I knew in that very moment why Cream’s reactions were less than I expected. I had been set up! Everything flashed so quickly in small spasms of thought. My mind pulsated in unison with my heart. I was mortified, but most of all, I felt betrayed. The hurt I felt was somewhere deep. My soul felt crushed. I thought these were my friends. Shame on me for having believed a lie.
It did not take me long before the “red” hit my eyes. Red was all I could see. I flew into a rage. Bo’s hands moved to shove me further to the ground, and then he moved to turn around in front of the couch. I cannot tell you where the strength came from, but I got up. The strength must have been in the red. I felt like a superhero because I had so much adrenaline. I had so many emotions in that moment, but all I really wanted to do was scream and cry. I felt undeniable hurt and betrayal.
Bo was 6 feet 5, and I am a rounded off 5 foot 2. I jumped up on the couch and trampolined myself high enough to grab his collar to bring him down close enough to my face to land a knuckled fist right against his face so hard that he fell over sideways on the floor. I fell off the couch over him. I was so filled with adrenaline that I positioned myself in a stooping position over him and looked him squarely in the eyes. I told him that he had better hoped he never lived to see the day where he would ever think he could hit me again. I released his collar. Then I stood up and angrily gathered some of my things from the room and left the apartment.
On my way out the door, I looked incredulously at Cream. She had done a lot of crazy and hurtful things, but this time I was done. She had a sheepish look on her face. She never could look me in the eyes. Both she and Bo had set this up from the start. What were they thinking? Later on I would learn that they were deliberately attempting to drive me from the apartment – to make me want to move out. It was Cream’s idea. One of Cream’s sisters and mother confirmed this in a conversation another of Cream’s sisters heard and reported back to me.
As a result of this situation, I planned my move without letting anyone know until three days before I actually had made the decision to leave. After this frenzied episode, however, my relationships with Cream and Bo were never the same again. It was all an illusion from the start anyway. When my aunt found out about this, she only vaguely regretted the day she introduced me to Cream and still found a way to blame me for all that happened. I sometimes wished that I had reported this incident to the police, but I had retaliated in violence too. So I was just as wrong.
I loved Bo like a brother. He was apparently hurt too. He claimed that he loved me like a sister and could not believe that I would hurt him in the way that I did. Dude! I was defending myself!!!! What? He would later tell me that Cream told him that I should have never fought back. She reasoned that I caused my own suffering by not following the protocol. Protocol? I guess I should have allowed myself to be abused? Sadly, Cream used us both. She did not truly care for either one of us, and it occurred to me years after that she may have even wanted me dead because Bo literally choked me until I was forced to cough for air all the time grapping at his hands to let me go while she sat there silently staring at it all happen.
Fast forward to the present, and Bo is now a married man with a family of his own. Although I wish him well, I sincerely hope that he does not have a violent streak towards his wife or children. The last time I saw Cream, which was about 10 years after my living with her, she mentioned Bo with fond memories. She marveled on about how he was the man she could have married, but did not. She failed to mention that he chose another woman instead.
In retrospect, I marvel on about how I escaped more danger than I could have possibly ever have known while living with Cream. Thank you, God!
My Voice Unchained 