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Tabora and the Plight of a Black Butterfly

By Roy E. Howard

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2011 Roy E. Howard
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4634-0210-5

Chapter One

Tabora and the Plight of a Black Butterfly

In the suburban town of Suitland MD, just outside Washington, D.C., it was a still morning. Barely predawn and seemingly pristine, however, not everyone was nestled in.

Each perfectly synchronized stop light switched to green and appeared as one long linear blur in corners of Sara's eyes. Her hands choked the steering wheel at nine and twelve o'clock positions. She streaked past one intersection after the other, and had but one goal: to get back into the apartment before Tabora discovered she'd left.

She slowed the car gingerly when she reached the modest, multi-level apartment building where they lived. She then peered up through the windshield towards their second story bedroom window.

"Yes," she whispered....

Quiet, and shrouded in darkness. The bedroom door was partially opened. Inside Tabora lay helplessly on her back. It was anyone's guess as to how long the calm, serene state would preside over the morning. Her head twitched.

In a deep, coma-like state, yet far from dormant; her entire body flinched. Past issues in her life often wreaked—havoc on her nights, causing her to endure toiling experiences.

Suddenly, her head jerked violently from side to side. Yet her eyes remained lock in the closed position. She perspired profusely between the silk sheets that enveloped her naked, shivering body. Her heart raced out of control.

"No. Stop, where are you taking me?" She cringed.

Poised to scream, but there was no sound. Both arms lay extended along her sides. Her trembling tightly closed fists clung to bed covers and, in spasm-like motions, jerked upward.

Still, it wasn't until the two horrid sounds from loud bursts of gun fire, that she exhibited signs of extreme anxiety; her restless body shuddered. She flinched with each echoed sound. Engrossed in fear, she released a deafening, high pitch scream from deep within her lungs.

Her upper body snapped upright from the pillow. Light-brown eyes, wide open, shone against the room's eerie wall of darkness. Winded, and obsessed with an urgent struggle to breathe. "Oh God, wait." With her right hand firmly against her chest, she summoned controlled breathing.

Exposed in an upright position; the shine of sweat outlined her trembling body. Within seconds, however, she sat calm and completely lucid. "Aw shoot," she said, "It's just another nightmare." Her body succumbed immediately as she released tension with a long sigh.

Silence and calm, once again, replaced her dark despair. The only prevalent sound was the loud pounding of her heart against the walls of her chest; it echoed inside her ears. She wiped the shine of sweat from her forehead. And again, she wondered how long she would have to endure the constant unyielding terror of her past.

Though years had past since Big Kelly abducted her from her previous apartment, there was no doubt—she wrapped herself in covers—the horrid experience still lived inside her.

That hot round, fired by Big Kelly, only grazed her shoulder that cool windy night. In its aftermath, the picture had become all too clear; it was intended to mark her final hour. "Ugh," she shrugged at the thought, but knew she had escaped death that night. Worst, however, was how seconds later she witnessed the demise of Big Kelly; Sara suddenly entered her thoughts.

Their relationship had suffered badly since then. Gone were the days when mere thoughts of Sara would ignite joyous feelings throughout her body. As of late, they conjured up nothing more than feelings of anxiety. Which reminded her—she refused to turn and look—was Sara even in bed?

She extended her left hand behind her. With soft calculated movements, she patted the spot in bed next to her; it was cold and empty. Right away she knew from past experiences, something was afoot. "Sara," she called out toward the master bath, but got no response.

"Ugh, that little black butterfly, I know she's out 'hoing around again." She turned on the lamp next to the bed. With unwavering attention, she stared left at the vacant spot. A cold feeling surged through the core of her body.

She'd felt for months now that Sara was taking advantage of her. Please, not another affair, she thought. She sat and wondered why she ever bothered forgiving her after the first dirty affair she was embroiled in, now this. To her, sneaking out during the night was an all new low.

She raked her black shoulder length hair backwards with both hands, and then with shrugged shoulders, shook her head vigorously. "Ugh." Her body shivered. Forget Sara, she thought. However, grim reality took hold: she loved Sara. Sara made her feel exceedingly wholesome in bed. "Whew," she sighed and shifted her body.

In spite of her denial, thoughts of Sara had already festered desires for love making and her flesh tingled with emotions.

Again, nonetheless, there was but one place for her to turn: the shower. Her silent partner, she thought. An obedient lover that served her needs well in Sara's absence. She massaged her bare right nipple with her left hand. Thoughts of full jet-streams of hot, darting shower water raging heavily against her firm, supple nipples and having its way with her entire body, all while she masturbated, made her come alive.

With newly found purpose, she leaned down and turned off the lamp. In an abrupt move, she sprang back upward. She turned towards the door and screamed. Her right palm slammed her chest. She squinted. In an instant, she recognized the silhouette standing in the doorway. "Damn Sara, you scared me, shit. How long have you been standing there?"

* * *

Across town, in Seat Pleasant, Tina lay sprawled across her bed. She had concerns earlier about Sara making it back to the apartment safely, and undetected. The late hours the two of them kept, however, had taken its toll on her; she had succumbed and was in a sound sleep.

Chapter Two

Shocked to discover Tabora moving about, Sara braced herself for the worst. "Sorry babe," she said, "up early, huh? I thought you'd still be sleep."

"Sure you did. I'm sure you would have liked that."

Sara smoothed the bedroom wall then flicked the light switch; Tabora's look of discontentment sprang from the darkness.

"I don't get it," she said. "What is that suppose to mean?"

.... Tabora covered herself and walked calmly past the doorway near Sara. "You know exactly what I mean, c'mon. Look at you, look like you' been laid-up all night."

She slid the half length gown, from the walk-in closet, over her head. Her eyes lashed Sara and fanned her with obvious disapproval.

"I've been to the club. And yeah I had a few drinks. I even got a little sweaty. But I haven't been with anybody," Sara confessed.

Tabora's hardened heart pounded with vigor against her chest. Anxious, she watched as Sara walked stiltedly from the doorway to a position directly in front of her. She knew exactly what was to come, and prepared herself to stand firmly against it.

"Baby let's not argue tonight," said Sara.

She felt it when Sara's hand slithered beneath her gown; she flinched from her soft touch. Sara manipulated her left nipple to firmness.

"I don't want us...