Thirty Times a Savage

Today I want to tell you all about the last time I talked to The Prince. Now I’m not saying that he isn’t still lurking around, he is! But I’m talking about the last actual conversation we had, when I knew for certain it was time to end things.

It was a Friday night, Bubble couldn’t hang out so I was bored and alone with my son. Being a teenager, he spent his time in his bedroom, playing video games with friends and wanting nothing to do with me.

I decided to spend my evening drinking alone. I want you to know, that until The Prince was was released from the pen, I had quit drinking for the most part. After all, I spent the majority of my weekends waiting in line to visit him down at the jail.

Once he came to stay with me, we drank every single night. He had been gone two weeks at this point. Even though I had grown as tired of him as he was of me, I was starting to miss my drinking buddy.

After I was a good bottle and half of cheap champagne in, I decided to give ole Princy Poo a call.

“Hello?” he answered, after my third attempt.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“I’m busy. What do you want?”

“Let’s hang out!” I said.


“Oh come on! I’ll be there in twenty minutes, I’m calling an Uber.”

“No. I don’t want to see you,” he said.

“Why not? I’m bored! Let’s hang out.”

“I’m busy.” he said again. Then he hung up on me.

I was not in the frame of mind to take “no” for an answer. So I called him back. He didn’t pick up. I decided to keep calling. I’m pretty sure I called about thirty times.

When that didn’t work, I went into my son’s room to borrow his cell. “Franklin! I need your phone!”


“I’m trying to call The Prince, he won’t answer on mine.”

“I’m in the middle of a game!” he whined.

“Just let me see it for a minute! I’ll give it right back!”

“But I’m in a battle, I’ll die!”

“It will take one minute!” I shouted, grabbing it out of his hand.

Franklin was pissed, he had been super obsessed with his games since the whole lockdown. My snatching his phone set him off, and he started to throw a tantrum.

The Prince picked up after two rings. “It’s me! I’m coming over! I’m getting in the Uber now!” I warned, before handing the phone back to my son.

I walked into my room, grabbed my own phone off the bed, and noticed an incoming call. It was from my ex girlfriend, Vivian.

“Hey bitch!” I answered. “What are you doing?”

“Hey girl! Just hanging out, how about you?”

“I’m gonna go visit The Prince!

“Eww! Why? He’s fucking psycho, girl. You need to stay away from him. He’s a crazy ass Muslim. He’ll blow your shit up!”

“He’s not that kind of Muslim, stop!”

“Whatever, those guys are all the same. You can do so much better. Seriously Asterisk, don’t go over there.” Her voice softened to a whine, “Stay here and talk to me. I miss you.”

“Aww… I miss you too! Okay.”

So instead of going over to see The Prince, I participated in a drunk video chat with my ex. We talked until I passed out.

The next day, I was hungover as hell and Franklin was still mad that I had ruined his battle. I spent the day in bed nursing a hangover. It was around 8:00 pm that evening, when I received a call from His Majesty.

“Hey,” I answered.

“Hello?” he slurred. I could already tell that he was drunk.

“What’s up?”

“I’m calling you… to ask you… why you make your son cry?”

“What are you taking about?”

“Last night, you called me from Franklin’s phone, I spoke to him after and he said you made him cry.”

“I don’t know, I was drunk. I don’t remember.”

“Bullshit! What kind of mother makes her son cry?”

I didn’t respond.

“I want you to know I have ZERO respect for you. None. I used to respect you but not anymore.”

I remained silent.

“You called me thirty times. I have the record. Thirty times! You say you want to come here, but I didn’t want to see you.”

“I know, I’m really sorry. I drank too much.” I said.

“You can come here now so I can show you what I really am!”

“No, I can’t. I’m in bed. I don’t feel good and I have work in the morning.”

“Don’t play games with me Asterisk! I’m serious. You have no idea what I can do!”

At this point in the conversation, as I had done a few times prior, I set my phone to speaker mode and turned on my laptop. I had a gut feeling that this was something I might need to record.

“You think ‘The Prince’ is a nice guy, you think you can play with me. No!”

“I don’t want to play games with you.”

“What’s that? What did you say?” he began laughing. “You lost, you lost… You don’t know me. I’m not like other men, I’m a savage. I’m not from America, I’m African! You don’t know what it’s like where I come from. In my country we don’t play games. You know what? You know what I will do? I’ll fucking kill you. I… will… kill… you,” he chuckled.

I was still searching for the microphone button on my computer.

“No, you know what? I won’t kill you. Not right away. I will come over to your house and I will bash your car in. Then I will kill everyone you care about, everyone you love. I’ll make you suffer.”

His laughing grew more sinister.

“How long will it take you? Ten minutes? No, fifteen minutes?” he asked.

“How long will it take me to do what?”

“Pffft, don’t play games with me. How long to get an Uber? You’ll be here in twenty minutes?”

“I already told you, I’m not going anywhere tonight, I’m in bed.”

“What?” he asked.

“I’m in bed, I’m hungover and depressed.”

“Don’t play games with me! You know what? You are nothing… nothing. You are not smart, you are not great. No. All those feeling I had for you before, they are gone. Done! Now I see who you really are. You make your son cry! That disgusts me. You are low, at the bottom. You are nothing. You are not even beautiful… You lost.”

My computer was finally recording.

“So you will not come?” he asked.


“Pffft… yeah…” his laughing grew distant until he finally hung up.

I didn’t talk to him again after that. I don’t even want to think about what he had planned for me that night, but I know it couldn’t have been good.

A month later he sent me a text that just said, “Hello.” I ignored it. A few weeks after that he started stalking my Facebook page with a fake account. I knew it was him, not just by the way he spoke and the emojis he used, but he also picked the name of a girl from his home country. Creepy right? I wonder who she is.

One of his comments read, “I’m masturbating to your loneliness.” Once I found them, I immediately blocked the page. A few days later I sent him an email:

I would like to tell you all that this is the end of the story, but it is not.

Soooo… if anything happens to me, you know who did it. Well, either him or my old roommate… 🀣🀣 She’s still around too!

Je sais ce que tu fais.

If you like what you just read, you are going to LOVE my books! Go buy them now!


        1. It’s called “hoovering”. The narcissist/psychopath doesn’t see their “significant other” as a person but as an extension of themselves. So once they have you, in their minds they “own” You for life. You aren’t a person to them, just a source of supply. Once they get what they want from you they grow bored and move on to sourcing new supply.

          He showed up with a girl. So he was here trying to inflict emotional pain from me. Showing me that I’ve been replaced. The only emotion I felt, was pity for her, because she has no idea what a monster she’s now tangled with and that she was being used as an attempted attack on me. I’m curious what he told her he was doing to get her to come with him to my home. It’s literal insanity.

          I’m clairsentient, so I already knew days before, that it would happen. I had a vision, so I wasn’t surprised at all.

          Narcissists can’t ever be alone. They always have to have a back up supply and are usually scouting them while they are in a relationship. A healthy person needs time to grieve after the loss of a relationship. I like being alone because I love myself and I am happy with the life I’ve created for myself. I’m demisexual, so I need to emotionally bond to someone before I can allow them in my lives. It seems to be my process, that I mourn the loss of the relationship for many months. Then when I’m feeling stronger, I write about it as a way to release it. Then I publish the book. Once that it done, I’ve healed and am able to move on and meet someone else.

          At this stage in my life, I’ve gotten really good at picking up the red flags and for the first time ever, I’ve been able to stop new potential narcissistic partners from “love bombing” me.

          I did do just as recently as last week. I’m proud of myself.

          I went into this relationship with The Prince even though I saw the red flags from the beginning, but I have to tell you, it was kind of an experiment. I was searching for deeper meaning, and it’s been very interesting to watch his actions when I already know the script.


          1. Wow you know a lot about this, I’ve not heard of a clairsentient before… I don’t know what that is.
            I’m also surprised you went through it knowing…
            Last week you had another narcissist coming onto you? I guess if you know the flags you can spot them easily…How did you get rid of them?

            Liked by 1 person

            1. I got rid of him by calling out the red flags and making an exit.

              Clairsentient is a psychic ability, a gift. I get premonitions and visions. I know things without knowing how I know them. It’s creepy sometimes.

              I’ve been studying psychology for many, many years. I was raised by a narcissist then followed the pattern my entire life. I’ve been trying to break free from it, but it’s really hard. Each relationship I endure, I get quicker at spotting it and removing myself.

              I just think I’m still searching for a deeper meaning.

              At least it makes for good writing!


            2. It does make for good writing and it seems there’s so many narcs about.
              Do you think because you were raised by a narc that you attract or are affected to them somehow?

              I hope you find something deeper…

              Liked by 1 person

            3. Yes, that’s exactly why. I’m following my childhood patterns. But I’m slowly breaking them!

              Maybe my next book will be a romance 🀣🀣🀣🀣

              Thank you!


  1. you are quite a story teller and, believe it or don’t, an educater whose stories help me with my own personal evolvement (i can’t help talking this way ~ i have six years full-time college ~ with no degree).

    Liked by 1 person

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