What’s Done In The Dark

I don’t remember consenting to sex with him.

But, then again, details of the second half of that night are still a little sketchy.

The number of times I’d swiped right on Tinder was beginning to fade. My hotel was conveniently located in downtown Houston, so it was easy to find. “1069 on the right once you get off the elevator,” I said as I hung up the phone. I grabbed my bottle of Hennessy and fixed my hair as I passed the mirror. “This is a dope ass hotel I chose,” I thought. I didn’t know it was the renovated one when I booked it. That night, I didn’t want to think about home, work, none of that. That night, my alter ego Keisha, didn’t care about shit except good vibes with a nigga I had no ties to. The knock at the door meant one more chance to check my breath and cleavage. I slung the door open, “what took you so long? Get in here.” I said with an attitude. Now why in the hell did he manipulate them pictures on his profile like that? “I thought you were…taller,” I noted while plopping down on the couch. He immediately grabbed the ice bucket, filled it with ice from the freezer and stuck his cognac into it. “Ok so you drink brown too,” I said with a smirk. “A chick that like brown? Yea, I can dig it.” He smiled and “bling!” His teeth were some of the whitest I’d ever seen before. I listened to him talk, but I have no idea what he said. His eyes and dimples were to die for. Everything about him was so intriguing. “So where you from?” The exchange lasted about 10 minutes, before I got the bottle of D’Usse he had on chill and started pouring. “Ok, let’s talk about something else,” I uttered.

I sleep on my back, so when I woke up and I was lying on my stomach, I immediately felt uncomfortable.

Have you ever heard the old folks tale about the devil “riding your back?” I have this vague memory of being held down, my face forced into the pillow. It felt like I was being straddled, like a horse. My body was limp, I had no strength, not even to lift my head. I just laid there, as tears rolled down my face. I wondered what happened last night; I laid there angry at myself because I didn’t remember getting in the bed, falling asleep, or my mystery guy leaving.

Once I regained feeling in my legs, I pulled myself up by the headboard and sat on the side of the bed. It felt like I had been sleep for days. The room began to spin as I tried to stand. “What in the hell happened last night?” I wondered.

“So do you blame yourself?” Dr Brown asked. “Yes! I knew damn well I shouldn’t have been in a hotel room with a nigga I didn’t know. And alone at that!” So does that give a man permission to take advantage of you?” Dr Brown asked with a side eye. “No, but what was I thinking?” Dr. Brown was the kind of therapist that spoke the truth no matter how blunt it may have been. “So, you made a mistake, does that define you? Your entire life?” “No, but I’m disappointed in myself,” I said, shattered and heart broken that I’d allowed myself to be taken advantage of.

“Simone, no one knows what’s done in the dark. Don’t let it dim your light.”

An Excerpt From “What’s Done In The Dark.”