When Life's Challenges Are Hard to Run From

What Reader's are Saying:

Scene From Ismet's Honor- Walking Through Abortion Protestors. #abortions #fathersrights #romance

The small flower pattern on the back of Belle’s shirt intermittently faded in an out. Sunny tried to keep her attention focused on it. Her head had started hurting on the ride to the clinic and all she wanted to do was close her eyes. She’d stumbled a bit while getting out of the car and removing her things.

 Belle was immediately at her side, grabbing one of the bags and leading the way. The grip she had on her hand, the support needed to continue going.
Sunny elbowed her way through the crowd of protesters blocking the entrance to the clinic. Their volatile, demeaning, chants, berating every female trying to enter as killers and trying- angered her. 
Holding tight to Belle's hand, she shook off the unexpected grasp on her elbow. An older woman, face red and pinched, stared into her face, damning her to the fires of hell. Any other day, Sunny would've taken the words in stride and said nothing, but the woman's condemnation and her self righteous attitude was her undoing. She recognized her as the grandmother of a couple of girls who attended her school.
“Hell is having to listen to a bunch of dried up, sex starved old people screaming about things they know nothing about. You gotta lotta nerves standing her condemning others when you need to be talking to the members of your family. Go look at your sneaky grandchildren and see what they've been hiding from you, instead of pretending to worry about people you don't know, who will probably never have an impact on your life, in any way.
Pretending you care about a fetus when you know you won't give a damn about it the minute its born.”
The woman reached out, gave Sunny a shove, hard enough to bring pain to her shoulder and to make her back her steps a couple of inches. Almost causing her to fall to the concrete of the sidewalk. Belle stepped between them. 
“Wait, so you're out here protesting abortions, yet you have the gall to punch what could possibly be a pregnant teen? An adult committing child abuse. Proves her point doesn’t it? You have the nerves to put your hands on my friend? How do you know we aren't here to seek medical care we can't afford?” She pointed at the angry faces staring in her direction. “How do any of you know, we haven't been the victims of rape and simply need counseling?”

 Pushing Belle to the side, Sunny placed her hands on her hips and sneered at the woman.
“And yeah, I know your granddaughters. You have two, Ashley and Emily. Blonde and brunette. One short and the other tall. As a matter of fact, Emily is the one who gave me this address.” Sunny leaned closer into the woman's face, peeling the nails of the older woman’s grip from her elbow, on snapped back finger at a time. “She promised me that after her having had a couple of visits here, they work quick and are extremely nice.” Pushing the stunned woman away, Sunny angrily continued through the remaining chanters. Ignoring their words and fighting the urge to pat her butt at them. They can all kiss my ass. Not one of them would take me in or give a dime to help me keep my baby.
The fury, mixed with the fact she was terrified, feeling ill, and no way wanted to be standing in the midst of verbal hell, were the forces that helped her continue.
At the door she couldn’t make her arms lift, let alone stretch out to grab the handle and open it. Her reflection stared back at her from the glass. This was definitely not the Sunny she once was. She hadn’t smiled in days. Wasn’t able to eat and Lord knew, she hadn’t put an iron to her clothes. She looked and felt a damned mess.
“Come on, Sunny.” Belle wrapped her arm around her friend’s shoulders, pulled the door open and squeezed through the entrance with her. “We have no choice, let’s get you some help.”
"Ismet's Honor" by Ey Wade on Ganxy
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Let's Talk About Dramatic & Keeping Secrets Ribbons & Belle #abortion #IVF #endingawantedpregnancy #rainbowbaby

"Don't be so dramatic, Belle. We're in this together. All of us."
“Dramatic? Whoa, wait a minute. You think I'm just being dramatic?" The switch from teary eyed woman to ball of angry fire, threw Tyson for a loop and he loosened his hold. "Let's talk about dramatic. Let's talk about all of us, and your sister." Belle brushed away her tears and stood. Slapping Tyson’s protective hands away. “What was going through your mind when you decided to tell Cornelia about Fawn?” Belle punched him in the shoulder with her fist. “I’ve asked you over and over to stop trying to protect me. Now you've messed things up worse than they were."
"How? I just wanted her to understand what's going on between us. I'm tired of going to family visits without you. Hearing the stupid, often cruel comments. You missing out on the love the women show each other throughout their pregnancies."
"Well, you can forget all of that. Cornelia came over and the things she said... I can't repeat,I can't forget, and I can't make her see what I had no choice to do, any differently than she already does. I liked her Tyson and now she sees me as some kind of monster. A baby killer.”
“No, she doesn’t.”
“Bull. I talked, no I listened to her today and I know better than you, yes she does. First she was only seeing me as the little whore trying to trap her baby brother, something that would eventually have fixed itself. Unless you told her about the procedure, too." She paused for a response. At his negative movement she continued. "I'm surprised. Seems you tell them everything. Doesn't matter now anyway- I’m a killer in her eyes. More than likely in all of their eyes. I used to like her, Tyson. I thought she liked me too, but that’s a big bag of bullshit now. She left here swearing to never speak to me again.
Which brings me to my Facebook page and each of my social media accounts. I had to close all of them because one of your spiteful family members made a negative, ranting post on my page and its gone freaking viral. I knew people were mean and critical, have always read some pretty cruel posts, but once someone has a face to put to their vitriol, they’re ruthless. I’m down to screening my phone calls.
To make it all worse, Sunny says the rumors are flying around at the clinic. Didn't you know Mary Carson was your brother's big mouthed girlfriend?" She slapped him around both arms with each word. "She's the worst gossip in the world and one of the ones who started the mess on my Facebook page. Not that any of that matters to me. I don't care what they say, but Sunny is in the midst and alone."
"Sunny's a big girl, she can handle it.” He chuckled, avoiding her reach. “And no, I knew nothing about that girl, Mary. All I wanted to do was help Cornelia understand what a caring person you are. How our child is not a trap, but a gift of a lifetime. I don’t give a crap about the rest of the world. This is about us and our baby. So, calm yourself.” He stood, grabbed her hands and pulled her out of the room. "I brought you Cheetos and a movie. Where do you want to spend the rest of the evening? Here on the bed or on the couch."
Her smile was brief. "I don't even know if I want to spend the rest of the evening around you."
"Yes, you do." Tyson moved close, and nuzzled her neck. "You like me. Besides, I can hand you tissues at the sad parts, wipe your eyes, rub your belly..." 
She turned to look him in the face. Every nerve ending wanted to pummel him to the ground, but the sweet smile, the pleading look in his blue eyes, and the kiss on the cheeks was her undoing. Giving in with a giggle, Belle climbed onto the bed.

"Fine, but know I'm still angry with you."
"Ribbons & Belle" by Ey Wade on Ganxy
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For parents going through a devastating experience such as Belle’s visit Ending A Wanted Pregnancy http://endingawantedpregnancy.com/

What is Dandy-Walker Syndrome?
Dandy-Walker Syndrome is a congenital brain malformation involving the cerebellum (an area at the back of the brain that controls movement) and the fluid-filled spaces around it. The key features of this syndrome are an enlargement of the fourth ventricle (a small channel that allows fluid to flow freely between the upper and lower areas of the brain and spinal cord), a partial or complete absence of the area of the brain between the two cerebellar hemispheres (cerebellar vermis), and cyst formation near the lowest part of the skull. An increase in the size of the fluid spaces surrounding the brain as well as an increase in pressure may also be present.
The syndrome can appear dramatically or develop unnoticed. Symptoms, which often occur in early infancy, include slow motor development and progressive enlargement of the skull. In older children, symptoms of increased intracranial pressure such as irritability and vomiting, and signs of cerebellar dysfunction such as unsteadiness, lack of muscle coordination, or jerky movements of the eyes may occur. Other symptoms include increased head circumference, bulging at the back of the skull, problems with the nerves that control the eyes, face and neck, and abnormal breathing patterns.
Dandy-Walker Syndrome is frequently associated with disorders of other areas of the central nervous system, including absence of the area made up of nerve fibers connecting the two cerebral hemispheres (corpus callosum) and malformations of the heart, face, limbs, fingers and toes.
Is there any treatment?
Treatment for individuals with Dandy-Walker Syndrome generally consists of treating the associated problems, if needed. A surgical procedure called a shunt may be required to drain off excess fluid within the brain. This will reduce intracranial pressure and help control swelling. Parents of children with Dandy-Walker Syndrome may benefit from genetic counseling if they intend to have more children.
What is the prognosis?
The effect of Dandy-Walker Syndrome on intellectual development is variable, with some children having normal cognition and others never achieving normal intellectual development even when the excess fluid buildup is treated early and correctly. Longevity depends on the severity of the syndrome and associated malformations. The presence of multiple congenital defects may shorten life span.
What research is being done?
The NINDS conducts and supports a wide range of studies that explore the complex mechanisms of normal brain development. The knowledge gained from these fundamental studies provides the foundation for understanding abnormal brain development and offers hope for new ways to treat and prevent developmental brain disorders such as Dandy-Walker Syndrome.

A term given to the child born after a miscarriage, still-birth, or the death from illness.
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Saying Good-bye, Comes Hard. Ribbons & Belle #IVF #Infertility #eningwantedpregnancies

"I was eight months pregnant. The farthest I’d ever gone. And once the debilitating morning sickness was over I was able to deal with every other little physical thing that popped up. The baby, my god was she growing beautifully and so active. A constant mound of kicking, twisting energy-practically non-stopping.” Her hand unconsciously rubbing her flat stomach, was covered by Tyson’s and she smiled. “And then I went in for an ultra sound- everything changed. It showed problems and I was sent for a level 2 ultrasound.”
“Level two? What is that?”
“In my mind, it’s a death tomb. I never want to hear the phrase again. In actuality, its a more extensive kind of ultra sound and a specialist has to read it. Turns out, all of the overactive movements were a sign of a disease. Poor Fawn had two severe brain malformations. At first I was told about the Dandy Walker syndrome. How it could be severe, but Fawn had a possibility of surviving through it. Children do live good lives with the disease. So, I turned my mind from having a cute little girl to run around with, to having a cute little girl with possible challenges. I prepared myself mentally and was ready.”
“That’s a good way to face life, Belle. If she had survived, I know you would have helped her through anything.”
“Without a doubt. The doctor is the best ever. I would use her again if I ever have to face such a horror. She took no chances with my life or Fawn’s. But to know the extent of the syndrome, I was scheduled to have an MRI three days later. Three days of the beginning of the worst time in my life. I’ve told no one else about this. I went through it all alone, the MRI, the diagnosis of the second brain malformation, and the final decision to have an abortion. I kept it all to myself.
Everything was arranged and executed quickly. There is still an age cut off point for abortions. I worried about someone finding out, the legality, of being accused of murder, being in the media. All a possibility because there aren’t many doctors who would perform such a thing at that late stage in a pregnancy. In order to avoid any sensationalism, I told no one. Never have.”

“What about your husband? Didn’t you tell him? Didn’t you let him know his child would not survive?”
Belle studied Tyson’s face before answering. The removal of his hand from hers, the slight movement away, felt like he had crossed the room. In her heart she knew if she said more, it would end whatever could grow between them, right on the spot. But she continued, better to get it over with.
“Honestly, I didn’t. I told you I called him after the first sonogram. He didn’t return that night. Didn’t bother to come around, but he did send a stupid text. A few lines of how he couldn’t deal with all of the drama and failures in all aspects of our marriage. He couldn’t deal with it anymore – as if any of it had been a party for me.” Belle looked up. The cool blue of his eyes dousing the remnants of the remembered anger she’d held for her ex-husband. “None of this was easy. I had to face facts, my baby was dying before she could be born. Fawn had what amounted to holes in her brain and the area that connected the two sides of her brain hadn’t grown. I’d hoped, after reading on the Dandy-Walker disease, that a miracle would happen and Fawn would be fine or at least as fine as a person with a disability could be, but with the second issue... There would be too much damage and pain. More pain than I was willing to put her through. She would probably not be able to talk, walk, hold her head up, or live without constant seizures. And that would be if she survived being born.
In my heart I knew I couldn’t let my baby live like that. Her being in pain all of her life was the decision maker for me. As a mommy, I had to let her go. I cried through everything. The counseling, the procedure- the shot which would eventually end her life, the conscious physical loss when her constant movements stopped and then the induced birth.
So, yes, I killed her.” 
Belle tried to gloss over the last bit, removing her hands from his and pushing them into the chair to aid her in standing. She needed to get away. To be alone. To work through the wave of guilt, and crippling despair the memories always tried to smother her with, but she couldn’t. 
 One minute she was in a rush to get out of his house and into her car and the next, she found herself with her arms around Tyson's neck and her butt resting on his lap.
Tyson let her cry. 
In the story, Anabelle wanted this baby more than anything. It tore her apart to let her go. I know there are a lot of people who believe this would be a wrong decision to make, what would it take for your to go beyond your inert beliefs?

Please, if you are going through any grief from the lose of your child visit, Saying Goodbye in the U.K.  The Saying Goodbye Services are the first national set of remembrance services for people who have lost a child at any stage of pregnancy, at birth or in infancy, whether the loss be recent or 80-years ago.

For parents going through a devastating experience such as Belle’s visit Ending A Wanted Pregnancy
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Fears of a Father #parenting #abortion #pregnancy

As gently as possible, Tyson slid his arm from under Belle and rolled off the bed to the carpet. Peeking up and over the edge at the thump his knees made as they hit the floor. Belle was still asleep. Snore soft, hand resting on the lump which was their child. Even in her sleep, she comforted it.

He belly crawled into the bathroom. Refusing to stand or turn on the light until the door was shut. Turning to the toilet he stopped, bothered by the soft pink light illuminating the nursery and tipped to close the connecting door, only to be drawn inside.

 It was a beautiful room. The kind designed to bring out the parental instinct. The urge to cuddle and protect. Yet,  it made him afraid. Everything within him trembled.

The big man, the one able to console and help his wife laugh at her fears, was actually petrified at the thought of a defenseless infant. In all of his thirty-five years, he’d never been more terrorized-at least not as much as he was now.

The thought of being a father was nothing when compared to the thought of being a father of a child that might not survive into birth. He may have fooled Belle into believing he had faith in a positive outcome, but the truth was, doubts pounded him. Beat him into the wimpy kid who always ran to his older sisters for solace and words of bravado. Chased him to the home of Cornelia, where he believed, sharing his fears would get him sympathy.  The betrayal floored him.

He’d wanted someone to pull him close and say, It will be all right. You have no need to worry, it won’t happen to your baby. Not your child.
He wanted to hear agreement in the fact, his wife had made the best decision for the love of her child. That if she had no choice but to do it again, he would be the man strong enough to stand by her and love her through it.

He wanted to get a consoling pat on the back and be told even his small doubts in the decision was ridiculous, it would all be for the best. The denial of comfort , slayed him.

He wanted to be the one who teared up in joy at the tiny items purchased in anticipation of his child. Instead, he teared up at the thought of the things not being used. The mountain of brand new baby paraphernalia remained stacked on the dressing table and packed in the bags in the corner of the room.
Tyson fingered the newly purchased blanket sitting in the middle of the crib. A pile of soft pale blue and mint green thickness. He pulled it to his face and sobbed huge, silent crocodile tears into the fabric. Fear had a hold on his heart. He was back to being the eight year old little boy, standing in the doorway of his mother’s room, eaves dropping on a conversation that nearly tore his world apart. Then, he was pulled into the loving arms of his family. Allowed to grieve and receive comfort. But that wasn’t the man he was now.

Here he stood, the man of the house, the comforter, the one who wiped the tears, not the one to be allowed to cry into a ball of material.
The arms,  silently slipped around his waist turned him around, held him close, and rubbed his back. Tyson gladly pulled her close. Resting his cheek on the top of her head, their child, nestled in the embrace, thumping between them.
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Why Write Companion Novels? Not a series, but mates. Ribbons & Bell and Ismet's Honor Coming June 2016 #romance #reallifehappens #abortion #infertility

After a beta reader told me her feelings on Ribbons and Belle, she expressed the need to know more about the character, Sunny Verde. From that, Ismet's Honor was written. I wanted to explore the feelings of loss and abortion from a male's perspective.

 Ribbons & Belle/Ismet's Honor: 2 novels. Loving the people, they're tossing my emotions like free play at an amusement park.‪#‎amwriting‬ ‪#‎feelingsareexposed‬ ‪#‎reallifehappens‬ ‪#‎infertility‬ ‪#‎abortion‬
Coming: June 2016 Check out the excerpts below.

Gorgeous, dedicated fertility counselor Tyson Ribbons, has admired and loved embryologist, Anabelle “Belle” Lee for along time. When she comes in for counseling he fights everything within him not to deter her from her plans.
Doesn’t stop his heart from wishing it could be him fulfilling her desire.
BLURB:Ribbons & Belle
Anabelle Lee, mourning her inability to have a child of her own-suffered through two miscarriages, a heartbreaking late-term abortion, and a soul crushing divorce. As an embryologist, she has protected the potential life of many frozen specimens, and lived envious of the women choosing In Vitro fertilization as their form of reproduction.
After a bit of encouragement from her best friend, and counseling from the very perfect Dr. Ribbons, Anabelle takes steps to fulfill her desire to become a mother.
Problem is, the announcement brings more of a shock than a gift.

EXCERPT: Ribbon & Belle
“So, go on. Let’s get to the part of your past that has you so upset. Tell me what happened in your life that could possibly make me dislike you?”
“Are you sure you want to hear it?”
“Only because I know talking about it would be a way to help you. Are you sure you want to sit there?" He pointed at the chair. "I can’t cuddle you if you get upset.”
“Yes,” she burned at the memory of the last time he cuddled after she became upset. “I’ll be fine. From here, I can look into your eyes.” And see when the tide turns in your beautiful blue orbs.
“Well, if you sat close to me, on the couch, you could...okay, okay.” Tyson raised his hands in surrender at the quirk of her lip. “I’m sorry. I just want to make you feel comfortable. To take away those wrinkles between your brows. ”
“I know.” She ran her fingers through her hair. The bright red strands became trapped between and around the wings of the ornate butterfly ring she wore. The same way sorrow and memories clung to her heart. With a flick of the wrist, she threw them off. Her gaze moving to the clock on the wall. It was already eleven o’clock and she lived forty-five minutes away. *God, will I be able to drive that long after talking about Fawn?* The soft sound of her breath, like the release of pressure from a balloon, opened the door to the heartbreaking memories and the words escaped, slowly. “I took Wednesday off from work last week. Not because of the flimsy excuse I gave the girls of needing my nails done, but because I knew I wouldn’t have been able to handle the day. Just the anticipation of having to watch or listen to couples a they celebrated the newly acquired news of the imminent arrival of their child, hurt. The way the women almost always burst into tears of joy. The husband, inevitably runs overs, yanks a few tissues from the purposely placed box at the station, rambles the reasons for the tears and goes back for more wet laughter and ginger hugs until the elevator opens and shuts them in to follow their rainbow.
Last Wednesday would've been Fawn’s second birthday” She paused when his hands reached out and wrapped around hers. The warmth, a solace as they rested on her lap. For a moment, she watched herself in his his eyes. Floating in the compassion and sympathy reflected. The tap on her hand, encouraging, she resumed. “Fawn was a beautiful baby. They gave her to me- wrapped in the soft hand crocheted blanket I’d made for her. She was wearing the first dressed I purchased when they told me I was having a daughter. Pale pink with a cocoon and a string of tiny butterflies on the collar. The design traveled down the neck of the dress to to end with a large butterfly applique on her tummy. It said, “I evolved just for you,” and I cried when I saw her in it. All alone and guilty. Guilty because I was the cause of her death.”

BLURB: Ismet’s Honor
Sunny Verdi has always wanted the “good-life.” Husband, home, lot’s of children. After cheering on her best friend and fellow embryologist Belle, through her successful quest for her dream, she wanted those things even more.
Unfortunately, Sunny broke the heart of her fantasy years earlier and it would take m9re than wishful thinking to get him back.
At 17, unable to voice his opinion against an unwanted abortion, Ismet Honorable O’Neal ran from the girl who killed his dream of the perfect life and the white picket fence.
Now he spends him time aiding other men in being the voice in the lives of their children.
Years later, he returns and Sunny is waiting.
She’s going to need more than the love in her eyes to repair the fences.

EXCERPT: Ismet's Honor
“You really gonna let her make you do this? You gonna let her kill our baby?”
“I don’t have a choice. She’s my momma. I’ve only been sixteen two weeks and here I am pregnant with a baby. Met, what can I do with a baby? How can I finish school? Go to college? I can’t be a mom, right now.”
“I thought you loved me. Wanted our baby.”
“I do.”
He felt her put her hands on his shoulder, he shook it off. The contact seeming to burn him with desire and freeze his heart at the same time. This is the person who in one night soared him to the sky with the announcement she was pregnant and then casually tossed him to the pits of hell with the plans for an abortion. She sat in silence as he opened the door of the car and went to sit on its hood. With every step, he wanted to fall apart. There was nothing he could do. Nothing or no one able to help him. It wasn’t possible to make her carry the baby and then give it to him. Sunny was right, they couldn’t go above her mother’s demands.

With a small turn of his head, he glanced in her direction. There she sat, stone-face in the car. He wondered if she even cared. If the whispers of love she’s mouthed for years was just the fantasy of a teenage girl in her first relationship. Did she even care for him? From the corner of his eyes he watched her staring, as if she were unable to move and join him.

The hurt he was feeling, there was no way Sunny felt anywhere near as helpless and devastated as he was feeling. She had the upper hand. It was her body, her child- until it was dead. The finality, took the last bit of strength from his body and he fell across the hood of the car, crying loudly in despair. The deep sobs tearing his heart apart. The thud of the metal hitting metal roused him from is misery. A simple hug would’ve meant a lot. A word of comfort or remorse would’ve balmed his spirit.
 Instead, he watched her shoulder her purse and without a glance in his direction, she strolled up the walk to her mother’s house. The taps of her heels as they walked the sidewalk to the front door, the closing snap, an end to his wishful dreams. All sounds that echoed in his nightmares for years. They were the symphony of the end of his life and the catalyst to many changes.
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Price of Honor Excerpt:Ismet's Honor #romance #abortion #companionnovel

Sunny stood on the outside of the glass doors, waiting for someone on the inside to let her in. She did her best to ignore the sarcastic remarks from the tiny group of women peering through the windows of the childcare center. It was bad enough she’d stood in the midst of the fan girls, wasting ten good minutes as she built her nerves to ring the bell,but now she had to listen to their snide remarks.
“Good luck with trying to get in there.”
“Must be your first time. You know women aren’t allowed.”
“Not allowed?” She questioned the statement. “It’s a daycare center, not a monastery.”
“And so? Those faggot muthafuckers want to be able to do whatever they want with those little children. As if they’re safe behind those glass walls. Messing with those babies without anyone knowing.”
Sunny turned to see where the derogatory venom was coming from. Her search stopping when her eye connected with those of a huge angry man. He refused to drop his gaze from hers or retract his statement. The business suit he wore put him in odds when compared to the casual dress of everyone else on the sidewalk. 
“Yeah, I said it, you people make me sick. Uppity Black pervert who runs the place thinks he’s the king of the world.” 
The burning, unblinking hate in his eyes was hard to turn away from and it frightened her. The force of the anger he harbored spewed from him like stink on a skunk, unpalatable. She let her gaze slide away slowly, the clinching and unclinching of his fists, grabbing her attention and she looked back at his face. Her immediate instinct was to run. 
“That’s some pretty horrible and disgusting accusations. Just because men are taking care of children they have to be perverts? What does that make you? All dressed up and standing out here like a fan girl.” A middle aged woman pushed her way through the crowd to stand practically nose to nose with him. Her finger wagging in his face in rhythm to her word.
“What are you?” He asked. Slapping away her finger. His lip nearly touched his nose, twisted as it was in disgust. “A dirty nigga lover? All you stupid White women standing out here with this tribe. Hoping to get you one of those things in there.” Spittal flew out of his mouth and landed in the face of the closest females. Their unified, horrified movement of removal, a perfect performance in synchronization. 
Sunny giggled softly in a shocked nauseated reflex.The idea of it landing on her making her gag and shudder.
The guy paced in a small circle. Waving his arms in dismissal of whatever the women shouted in their own defense.
“You ignorant women make me sick. I see you,” He pointed at each in turn. “Or some other version of you standing out here, everyday. Get your lazy asses a job. Peering in those windows as if you’re watching heroes. These are animals. Every last one of them. Carry your butts away from here before something happens to you.” He pushed the shoulder of the first women. Her struggle to remain in a standing position- lost. She fell to the ground which angered everyone and the verbal attack became louder and physical as they all took a swing at him.
“You sound like a raving maniac. A race baiter.” Someone shouted from the now swollen pond of onlookers.
“This man and this center helps fathers who want to take care of their children.” Shouted another.
Sunny looked around. Where there had been a few quiet bystanders, now there were at least fifty people. Ranting, pushing and instigating. Many agreeing with the profusely sweating, profane angry man. Most simply there to poke a bear and get a video on their cell phones. The smiling faces, manic in their glee at having something to post on their social media accounts.
“And now, here come the stupid media.” The man used his calloused thumb to point at the collection of camera carrying paparazzi making their way from across the street where they’d been stationed at the courthouse. “Everyday they keep the news flooded with some time wasting nonsense about this damned place and that useless waste of skin, Ismet Honorable O’Neal. Honorable,my ass. What they should be doing is filming the broken heart mothers-not some disgusting child stealing lawyer. He’s not a hero, he’s a home wrecker.”
“What do you know? Screaming and being prejudice because you hate Black people. You’re just another racist.”
“Probably an undercover gay. All dressed up like a giant Ken doll.” A cellphone holder raised his arms a little higher. Hoping to catch the man’s reaction above the heads of the other people.
“You call me an f’ing race baiter? A gay? The hell I am. I was a grandfather. I was a grandfather until that rotten bastard stole my granddaughter from my little girl. Took her and gave her to some lowlife who’s gone now. Flew away and we’ll never see that baby again. My family is torn apart.”
Sunny watched the tears roll down his cheeks and immediately soften the persona of a gruff, belligerent, racist. For a moment she felt sorry for him.Tears burned her eyes. The urge to go through the crowd and offer him a hug, halted by three things happening simultaneously.
Someone called his daughter a worthless whore who probably deserved to lose custody, Ismet finally opened the center door, and the man, in his hurt and rage, pulled out a weapon.
In one flashing instance, Sunny was yanked securely into the building, bullets flew and everyone scattered. Few making it to safety away from the automatic shots.
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