80 - Strange Shift

815 19 4
                                    

TW- talk of trauma



Running, shattering, glass, blood, running, frozen, blood, bandaids, scars...


I shakily continue to draw out roses and hearts and sparkles over all of the glass wound scars from when I ran away from my papá, using blues and purples to match the rest of my outfit. I have to do something similar for the scars on my torso that Tory gave me. Both are just painful reminders of the times that I've been hurt by people I once thought I could trust.


This isn't where I thought I'd be when I was little. This isn't where I thought I'd be when my brothers died and suddenly I had to be the strong one if I wanted to survive. This isn't where I thought I'd be this time last year. This isn't where I thought I'd be when I was crying in Robby's arms about not knowing what the future would hold after Abuelita lost her job. Never in a million years would I imagine myself in the situation I currently find myself thrust in. I couldn't bring myself to tell Robby what my new job is. He asked me if I wanted to go to the drive-in with him later tonight and I had to tell him I didn't know if I could go because of this job. He asked what it was and I couldn't tell him... I should be able to... he's my boyfriend, and I trust him more than anyone, it's just that the only times I've felt less dignified are when I've had my belongings dropped in toilet water, or had to call my older brother to bring me a change of clothes, and I don't want him to view me in that light... I look at my face in the mirror, wishing that it would shatter so I wouldn't have to look at myself any longer.


"Reyes! Let's go, you're my star! Get out out there and earn some tips!" my boss says, his awful voice sending chills of disgust all the way down to my spine, "and don't slip up with the Spanish words like you did last time. If people wanted to hear salsa music, they'd go to the Mexican restaurant down the street."


All I can do is nod. I put the finishing touches on my makeup, then with one last stolen glance at myself in the mirror, I stand, and walk out to join the other girls.


It's humiliating. Going from being a martial arts champion and finalist to this. From being the lead in your show choir show to this. But I have the best voice out of anyone here, and I make the most money when I sing, so I do it. When I wanted to use my musical abilities to make money, I didn't really think it would be like this... I didn't really think that singing at children's birthday parties would also entail dressing up like a mermaid and having to cover up all of the scars that life has inflicted upon me.


Nevertheless, I put on the biggest smile I can, singing my well-rehearsed song about how good life is in the sea, waving to all the little girls and boys whose eyes are now fixated on me. I'm front and center. There's no hiding. Out of nowhere a faint 'Reyes?' fills my ear, the voice horridly familiar. I glance over to my right, stomach dropping as soon as I make eye contact with the person.


Tory.


No... no... ay de mí, this can't be happening... this can't be happening... I continue to sing my song, attempting to smile through the fact that I feel like I'm going to puke. There's no way in hell that this could possibly get any worse... I shift my attention back to the people standing before me, making direct eye contact with- it can always get worse. I don't know why I ever tell myself that things can't get any worse, because they always do. Sam and Mrs LaRusso stand right there in the audience, eyes fixated on me. Sam looks like she's having a field day. Mrs LaRusso just looks shocked. This is the worst. This is awful. My best friend, my boss, and my rival are all here, and I'm dressed up as mermaid with blue hair singing about how a fish is my best friend.

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