Control, page 27
“Using you for what? It wasn’t for sex. You wasn’t giving it to him. Right?” I asked her.
She said, “But he still knew that I was special. And I always gave him ideas that he would use without giving me the credit. My ideas would just pop up in his writings, as if he didn’t know where they came from. Mother-fucker.”
“And you let him do it?”
I was still focused on the gun and when I could jump her to get it.
“Like you said . . . I loved him,” she admitted. “So, I just kind of . . . held on, like we do sometimes when we’re trying to figure it all out in our heads. And he didn’t want me to leave anyway. He was hooked.”
With her guard down, I eyed the gun and was ready to make my move. But then she became fierce and held it tightly in her hands again.
She said, “But then you got him all riled up with that movie shit, and your relationship talk, thinking you know something. So, I’m gon’ let you have this last reflection before I put an end to this shit,” she told me with the gun. “Maybe then you’ll finally get it.”
She pointed to herself with her free left hand and said, “I’m the one in control. Not you.”
TYRELL HODGE
Reflection 43
AFTER THIS DUMBASS, WANNABE PSYCHOLOGIST GOT TYRELL ALL fired up with her brainiac talk about movies and relationships, his ass needed to be calmed back down with some damn medicine. I swear, they must have missed his ADHD (attention deficit hyperactivity disorder) diagnosis in grade school or something, because he was definitely wired for that shit. And every time he got disturbed by something, he would bother me with it at work.
I knew something was up when he started texting me before eleven o’clock in the morning.
You coming straight home today? You wanna do a lunch date? You bored?
As soon as I read that, I knew he was gonna keep bothering me. When you know somebody, you know somebody. And that was Tyrell’s MO (modus operandi). He’ll keep bothering you until he gets his way, or until you shut that shit down. So, I had to shut the shit down!
Are you driving today? I’m working.
Then he got sarcastic.
All work and no play, wastes your life away.
Once he started with that, it only irritated me.
I’ll be fine. I’m working.
Then he started his usual whining and shit, with capital letters.
You’re ALWAYS working. You don’t have any time for US anymore.
The truth of the matter was, I didn’t need time with him anymore. I had my system, and it included ignoring him. And I could get away with it because he wasn’t going anywhere. Tyrell was a man of habit, and that habit included me.
But if I didn’t respond to him, he would restart the text conversation later on, and I didn’t want to deal with him again in the afternoon. So, I had to close out the conversation.
I’ll be home later.
Once I did that, all I had to do was repeat my text.
I’ll be home later.
Life was like a constant chess game with Tyrell. And I had gotten used to playing it. So, I could checkmate his ass every time now.
Apparently, his ass hadn’t planned on driving PDS at all that day, which meant he would be a hundred miles an hour on me. But I didn’t know that when he was texting me.
So, I got in after five o’clock and realized that he had been at home waiting all fucking day for me, like a damn puppy. But he wasn’t a happy puppy. He had a fucking attitude!
He went right in on me and said, “Look, if we over, then let me know. But I’m not playing this game no fuckin’ more. I’m tired of this shit! So, let me know what you wanna do!”
I looked at him like he had lost his mind. But he was always losing it.
I said, “If you’re ready to leave then just don’t come back. I’m not keeping you here. And I can pay the fuckin’ bills myself.”
He said, “But do you want me to leave? What do you want me to do?”
I can’t tell a grown-ass man what to fucking do! If he wanted to leave, then leave. If he wanted to stay, then stay. Why the fuck was he asking me that? So, I ignored him and walked away. I was tired from work and needed to rest.
At that point, this motherfucker said, “Don’t fuckin’ walk away from me! Answer the fuckin’ question! You’re not walking away from me tonight!”
Now, that was some new shit, right there, because he had never spoken about stopping me from walking away before. I wasn’t in jail! Who the fuck was he?!
So, I ignored him again and kept walking. That’s when he grabbed me by the neck. Yes, the motherfucker grabbed me by my neck!
He said, “I’m fucking sick of you! If you don’t want me here, then say it! Say what the fuck you want!”
Well, I fucking lost it myself at that point, and grabbed both of his arms with my nails.
“Get the fuck off of me! You don’t deserve an answer! You don’t respect shit I do! You only give a fuck about what you do! And I’m tired of you too! So, you can go to your fucking psychologist and ask her for some!”
He yelled, “I told you, I’m not fucking with her! It’s business!”
“And when have you ever done business with me!” I yelled back at him. “All you wanna do is fuck me! You don’t care nothing about my mind!”
“That’s not true. I love your mind. I love everything about you,” he told me with tears in his eyes. “I just want you back to how you used to be.”
“Yeah, when you could get your way all the time. But I ain’t going back to that shit!” I told him. “I ain’t fuckin’ na-eeve no more.”
And this motherfucker actually cried after trying to choke me.
He said, “You got your way too. You got everything you wanted from me. But I can’t give you the fucking world! Nobody can have everything. So, you lost your heart, and you punished me for it. Before I ever went to another woman.”
“Yeah, whatever.” I wasn’t trying to hear any of that shit after he tried to choke me. He was talking to a brick fucking wall!
He said, “Aw’ight. If that’s how it’s gon’ be. Where you wanna fake what you’re doing with me. Then we gon’ end it right here then.”
He went and got this lady handgun that he had given me a while ago for protection. And I never really bothered with the gun. But I was thinking about it as soon as he put hands on me. I didn’t think he was going to let me get it though, especially while I was still pissed at him. But his dumbass went and brought the gun to me. Like I had blind and unconditional love for him like that. And I don’t. Not anymore.
So, when his ass put the gun in my hands, he had signed his death certificate. Because I don’t fucking play like that.
Then he said, “If you don’t really love me, then put me out of my misery.” And he stood right in front of the gun with his heart.
At that moment, I knew what that shit was about. It was all about control. He was still trying to control me. But I was tired of that shit.
I told myself, I ain’t going back to that. For nobody! Nobody’s gonna control me anymore.
And I squeezed the fucking trigger to his heart.
POP!
He took the bullet to his chest and grabbed both of my arms, squeezing the hell of out them. Then he fell to the floor. And the first thing I thought about was taking care of this wannabe psychologist, who had put all that shit in his head in the first place.
“And fuck her movie! She gon’ get hers next.”
And I took care of every character in my head that she wanted to be involved in.
DESTINY FLOWERS
Reflection 44
WHEN DESTINY REFLECTED ON ALL OF THAT TO LET ME SEE IT and feel it, I was honestly terrified of her. How could a woman shoot a man in the heart who loved her that hard?
She still had the gun in her hands as I watched her. And if she could do that to Tyrell, I figured I didn’t stand a chance to reason with her. I had to get that gun out of her hands by any means necessary.
After a moment of silence, with us both staring at each other, she exhaled and stood up.
“All right, let’s get this over with.”
“Oh, shit!” I panicked and reached to grab the gun in her hands. I was actually shocked that I got my hands on it before she could fire it.
Then she headbutted me. “Let it fuckin’ go!”
But I held on for dear life and wrestled it with her.
“I’m not going out without a fight!” I told her.
BOP!
“AHHH, SHIT!” I hollered. The gun shot off in the room and burnt my hand, but I still didn’t let it go.
“You gon’ fuckin’ die!” she told me, as we wrestled around the room, falling into shit.
I shouted, “What are you gonna do, shoot yourself? I’m all in your head, right? So, if I die, then you die! Dumbass!” I argued with her.
“We both gon’ die then,” she told me.
“For what? You don’t have to kill me. Just control me. Control yourself,” I reasoned.
Then she leaned down and bit my hand.
“Ahhh! Bitch!” I screamed, and headbutted her back.
When she fell to the floor, I fell down with her. And the gun was just inches away from her head and mine.
“I let you borrow my shit, and it’s over!” she told me, squeezing the trigger.
POP!
WHO AM I?
Reflection 45
I AWOKE AT AN ATLANTA HOSPITAL ON A GURNEY WITH MY ARMS strapped down to my sides and a bandage wrapped around my head. At first, all I saw was lights, blinding me, while stretched out on the table. Or it felt like a table. And when I looked up into the eyes of a doctor, I asked him, “What happened?”
He was a clean-shaven Asian man in his thirties, wearing all white. Or maybe he was older than that, because Asians always looked young to me.
He said, “Apparently, you ah . . . created a whole bunch of characters in your head. And obviously . . . you lost control of them.”
“Really?”
He nodded. “Yes . . . really.”
I stopped and thought about it. I said, “But they seemed so real.”
The doctor smiled at me. He said, “They always do.” Then he looked serious. “That’s why you tried to hurt yourself.”
I guess that’s why they had me strapped down to the gurney like that. But . . . I didn’t believe him. Something had to be real. I could still feel it. I just had to figure out who I was. And how I got here . . . Then I could start all over again.
Discussion Questions
for Control by Omar Tyree
1. When you hear the phrase “psychological thriller” what are the first ideas that come to mind?
2. Do boys have more control over their lives than girls? Why or why not?
3. If you had to rate the level of control that you have in your life from 1–10, what number would you give yourself and why?
4. Do you believe young women gain more control or less when they decide to go along with the wishes of powerful men?
5. Do you think it’s harder for wealthy men to control their urges for sex than it is for wealthy women? Why do you feel that way?
6. Compared to women around the world, are the emotions of American women out of whack? Have you noticed any difference in the emotions of foreign women?
7. Do you believe White America owes Black America reparations for slavery? Why or why not?
8. Who is your favorite character to read about in Control? Why?
9. Would you like to read more thrillers by Omar Tyree? What did you like about this style of writing?
10. Did this book make you think about the issues of real life, or was it just a fun read? What more did it make you think about while reading?
Omar Tyree, Control
