Enver Williams is leading on a normal life but that is all ripped away from her when she is taken from her home town.
When Enver comes to realize that there are others like her in more ways than one, she is determined to free herself and her newfou...
(Please be aware that all the Spanish in this is from google translate, we do not speak Spanish so sorry if any of it is incorrect)
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Mom is cooking in the kitchen. She tosses dishes into the sink, cursing under her breath. Maria hides behind me, her hand clutching my palm.
"H-hola Mamá," I try to sound brave, but my words are weak, "How was your day?" she snaps her head around.
"Omar! sal de aquí!" She shouts. I guess she didn't have a good day.
I release a sigh as I turn around, giving Maria a smile. I have to be brave for her. I nod to the stairs behind us, signaling for her to go to her room. Reluctantly she leaves. I take a steady breath.
"Can I help you Mamá?" She slams her hands down on the counter.
"You just make a mess out of everything. Get out," I'm trying not to be hurt by words, but no matter how many times she hurls her insults, they don't stop hurting.
I take another breath. There's so many words locked in my head that I'm too fearful to unlock. I slowly walk up the stairs.
"I wish Papi was here," I mumble. I didn't think she could hear me.
"And who's fault is it that he's gone?!" she yells. I can feel the tears welling up, "He always wanted to protect you. He was a foolish man," I run up to my room not letting her finish.
I almost slam my door, but stop myself knowing it's only going to cause more trouble. I sit down on my bed, burying my face into my hands as I let out a groan of anguish and frustration.
The door creaks open and Maria pops her head through, A frown is placed on her lips and her forehead creases. She stands cautiously, like she's afraid to come in.
I sit up as straight as I can, trying to make things seem okay. "You can come in y'know."
"You okay?" she asks as she plops down on my bed.
"Fine," I say, but we all know I'm lying. Even Maria can tell.
"It's not your fault," she sighs, "You know that, right?"
"Sure," I flop back on my bed. She follows.
"Won't it be nice when we move out? We can go to America, or Paris, or England. We can eat all the Cheez-its in the world!" she smiles at me.
"Damn you Maria, you found my weakness," we laugh. She shoves my shoulder playfully. The sunlight drains from my room and Maria is curled up next to me, snoring softly. I stroke her head, and think. Think about life. Ya know, the whole existential crisis thing. Soon enough my eyelids close and I'm drifting off to sleep.
