Entropy

WG| Chapter VI: Nightly Visit

Dominique

Day 3

Two days went by slowly. Bracus left us updates and would often check to see how we were doing. Wistfully, he and his army didn't find anyone else. He said it in a sorrowful, yet optimistic tone. We were getting impatient by the day, but we hid it. We know that the others are in serious danger if they aren't found right away. I even had to tell Naomi and Blathnaid to shut up because they got a dreadful feeling about it. Blathnaid's feelings are accurate and I don't want to hear it.

I take deep breaths to calm myself down. This is another night where I can't fall asleep. A noiseless D.J blasts inside my head. I look at the window with the night sky filled with beautiful auroras. I may not have been to the north pole, but they are so uplifting. It doesn't cure my insomnia though. A strong craving for meat emerged two days ago. I wasn't satisfied with the meals containing any meat. It's so bad that I am craving cannibalism. I have to keep myself from pouncing on my friends, especially Ivelisse. I don't want to eat anyone alive. It feels so wrong. It's not an animalistic drive that takes over me; it is an extreme hunger that is never pleased.

I toss and turn multiple times; no sleep position has worked for me yet. There are no sleeping pills to help. The odd part is that I am not tired from the long nights of unrest. I should've been disorientated by now. Sometimes the human body hides stress for a long time. That usually winds up with the person crashing dead. Sure there are things that everyone can deal with, but when it comes to major health issues, it's not the best to ignore.

That happened to my only son, Diego, while I was still living in Colombia. The third time's a charm, people usually say. Diego was my third attempt, which I didn't miscarry. I fell into the mistake of love at first sight. My esposo was not an abusive man, but he had more control of what runs in a typical household. We lived in the town of Ipiales. My mama and padre told me the survival rules in Ipiales: Hide electronics, hide vehicles, no flaunting money, don't travel alone, and don't go out at night. My family was never criminals, but a few were victims of crime. I still carry my pocket knife, but I didn't use it when I was in England. Padre taught me how to use my pocket knife in self-defence. I made sure that my son would be safe because he meant the world to me.

Sometimes life can be a real Qué Gonorrea. When Diego was six years old, he had fallen ill. Fever, no appetite, exhaustion, vomiting, coughing, and difficulty breathing. He had asthma, but I don't believe that is what killed him. I was getting concerned for him, yet my husband told me that it's just a bad flu and he would get over it. No, it got worse that we had to rush him to the hospital. There was fluid in his lungs and his respiratory system was failing. The doctor suggested it was pneumonia caused by secondary drowning. My esposo and I never heard about it before. We went swimming at a reclusive pond and he accidentally inhaled some water. He died less than twenty-four hours after admitting him. His respiration failed and an asthma attack also struck. He didn't recover.

This made me feel like a bad mother. If I ignored my husband and brought Diego to the doctor's, he could've been saved. He would still be alive. I kept the guilt within myself while my husband expressed it in anger, but he never directed the blame toward me. Our relationship was growing tense. We managed to have one more child, Clarisa. She was the light of my life; she was sweet, kind, bubbly, and energetic. At seven, Clarisa began to have multiple seizures. She had epilepsy. I was on her side in case she collapsed. I thought she could live a normal life with it. Three years later, she died of cardiac arrest from a seizure. My esposo started to become superstitious that I was bad luck. His family's bloodline was from an ancient indigenous religion within Colombia. They warned him that it was going to remain difficult if we stayed together. A year after Clarisa's death, we divorced.