Novel Introduction to ~D.I.V.A.~

My name is Michaela Davis and I am an domestic abuser. I was born in the October Fall of 1979 and raised in Miami, Florida by my mother and Granny. I had a really fucked up life growing up as a child and if I don’t take the time out to write about the shit, I think I just may lose my damn mind and really hurt someone. This story is about my life growing up as a child into my adult years dealing with trying to mask the invisible pain that ultimately transpired into me taking it out on my loved ones. I’m a professional in Corporate America. I have a really good job working for one of the best doctors in Atlanta and I have a Masters degree in Management. I always keep a pleasant smile on my face and I have a sweet personality outside of home. But behind those closed doors, I am considered a Terrorist. I terrorize, verbally abuse and pour salt on open wounds of the men that enter my life. I detest everything about a man. The way he strides, smell, speak with a mouth full of ass smelling lies and the way they fuck. I only deal with them to break their souls the same way mine was broken. Is it retaliation? Yeah, you can say that. Do I like women you ask? Hell No!! I can’t stand their asses either. I stay far away from those adulteress whores that sleep around for money and end up with a panty crouch full of oozing green discharge, or should I say cum. I’m in this big world all alone because I trust no one. I don’t have respect for men because they do not respect themselves. So I pull them in by giving my best academy award winning smile and once they start to play with my fire, that’s when I go in with a scorching burn! I know I know, I sound evil and you probably wish you could just reach out and shake me like the baby shaking syndrome but do I care: Not one bit. My therapist would be so disappointed by what I am saying because I’m suppose to be in remission of this terrible disease I have, but this is a big part of me. Just say I was the good apple surrounded by a spoil bunch that eventually corrupted my core. Those therapy sessions help a little though. I’m starting to see the good in some people but I have yet to find the good in me. So until that good emerges, I feel sorry for the suckers that cross my path. Enough about me. You’ll get to know me a little better as you glance through my past and present process of my developed character. I warn you to not be alarmed. This is my story.

Copyright © 2010 by Tiffanie Minnis All Rights Reserved