solo / carlos sainz

thirty

Carlos and I step off the elevator, Elsie between us and holding our hands, her laughter at a joke her father had made lingering in the air.

We skirt past the door to Carlos's flat, the usual pile of packages waiting to be let in. Without me there to bring them in, they're almost as tall as us, obscuring our view of my flat until we're fully around it and in front of my door.

It's hanging open by a single set of hinges, the wood splintered and dirtied with boot marks. I'm quick to pull Elsie up into my arms, tucking her face into the crook of my neck, "¿Qué coño ha pasado?" I ask Carlos as he slowly pushes the door out of the way.

"Alguien ha entrado... Mara, lo siento mucho."

As he pushes the door out of the way, guiding the two of us inside, I can see why he's apologising. The living room, once adorned with Elsie's artwork and cosy furniture and throw blankets, now resembles a war zone.

Graffiti covers every inch of the walls in angry, defiant strokes. 'Slag', 'whore', 'bitch', 'liar', 'golddigger', the insults are endless.

Picture frames lay shattered on the ground, the glass crunching underfoot as we slowly make out way through the carnage.

Whoever broke in smashed every piece of glass they could find and I'm glad I had the forethought to pick Elsie up before she could run inside.

My free hand flies to my mouth, a choked gasp escaping my lips as my eyes take in the destruction leading to Elsie's room. All of her toys, once a colourful array of joy and excitement, are now strewn across the floor like the casualties of a battle.

Photographs of Elsie, Carlos, and I have been ripped apart, mixed around with what's left of Elsie's toys.

"No... no, this can't be real," I whisper, my voice barely there. I want to scream. I want to fall apart and feel but I can't. Not with Elsie still in my arms, her vision obscured. "Cariño, call the police. And Amira. Someone needs to take Elsie."

Carlos's footsteps echo behind me until he's out the front door, his anger palpable as he calls his cousin, Amira, and the police over to the flat.

I stagger forward, my trembling hands brushing along the wall, where terrible red paint has been splashed up against it. My feet push the shredded remnants of Elsie's favourite stuffed animals around on the floor as I step into her room, the carnage the same in there as it was in the hall.

I'm almost too afraid to go into my room, but I know I need to. I cross the hall, pushing open the door to find every drawer, every cabinet, every space possible turned inside out. All my clothing is gone, my jewellery as well, and my bed's been slashed a dozen times over.

The sounds of Madrid below filter through the air, the windows smashed. I do my best to contain the rage slowly bubbling up inside me, the feeling manifesting in a barely controlled shaking. "Mummy? What happened?"

Elsie's raised her head, no longer hiding as I'd hoped she would, and I don't have the heart to be honest with her. Not yet, at least. "Nothing, darling, everything's okay."

"Mara? Mara! Oh my god, what the fuck?" Slamming footsteps turn me to face the doorway as Amira bursts through, "What the fuck happened?" Her chest is heaving, hair a wild mess. "Oh my god." She's tearing up, the same way I want to, and I shake my head.

"Amira, not right now." I warn her as Carlos steps into the room.

His jaw tightens as his eyes sweep the room, his fists clenched. I've never seen him so angry before, not once, and it's a terrifying sight.

"Mara," he said softly, his voice a steadying presence, "we need to stay calm. This is...this is horrible, but...we need to get Elsie out of here." I nod, coaxing Elsie into Amira's waiting arms.

"Elsie, baby, you're gonna spend some time with Auntie Ami, okay? She's going to take you to work, does that sound like fun?"

She nods once, straining to look at Carlos over Amira's shoulder, "Papa, will you come with me?"

"Soon, but not yet. Right now, Mummy and I need to take care of some things, okay?"

Without another word, Amira peels out of the room, holding a hand over Elsie's eyes as they go through the rest of the apartment and leave for the office.

Once I know she's gone and out of earshot, I can't stop the sobs that rip through me. They yank at my chest, physically painful as I collapse into Carlos.

He holds me close, his whispers soothing as he runs a hand through my hair and scratches at my back. "Who could do something like this?" My voice cracks through the tears, my hiccuping sobs the only sound in the room as Carlos continues to comfort me. "What would have happened if we'd been here?"

There's no answer that'd be comforting. "Mara, no. We can't think like that, okay?"

Radio chatter in the hall is our only indication that the police have arrived, the sounds of their boots on glass as they enter the flat a reminder that this is far from over.

"¡Policía! ¿Hay alguien aquí?"

Carlos kisses the top of my head before responding, keeping me pressed into his chest. "¡Estamos al final del pasillo, en el dormitorio principal!" Footsteps follow the sound of Carlos's voice, revealing three police officers as they step through the doorway to take in the carnage that is my bedroom.

"¿Hay algún niño aquí?" The first officer asks, her voice serious.

I shake my head, roughly wiping at the tears sticking to my cheeks. "Ahora está con su tía."

"¿Y todos ustedes viven aquí?" Another officer asks.

"No, sólo mi novia y mi hija." Carlos responds, pointing back toward the front door, "Vivo al otro lado del pasillo."

"¿Ha comprobado si también han robado en su casa?"

"No." His response prompts one of the officers to peel off, no doubt to check if his place has been broken into as well, as they'd asked.

As Carlos begins to give his statement, never once letting go of me, his steady presence starts to slowly yet surely calm me down.

"Carlos," I finally manage to say, my voice still shaking but firmer than before, "Elsie can't stay at the office forever."

The officers have given us some privacy as they survey the living room and kitchen and guest bedroom, saving Elsie's room and my own for last.

"Of course not," he whispers, kissing the top of my head, "I'll have Amira bring her to the family house. Caco's getting everything set up right now."

I bury my face in his chest, tears soaking the fabric of his shirt as I realise he's already taken steps to fix all this.

"We'll get through this together. I promise you, I won't let anything happen to you or Elsie, not on my watch."

After I've finished giving my own statement, where the police were determined to figure out how my address had been leaked in the first place, Carlos gently guides me out of the ruined flat. 

We leave behind everything. Nothing's salvageable...and even if it were, I wouldn't want any of it anymore. Not after it'd been in the hands of such intense hatred.