Dual Eclipse

Prologue

~Trigger Warning. Read with caution~

“God,” I’ve never prayed before.
And that’s why—you’ve sinned—they keep taking away from you.

I swallow, ignoring the voices in my head and the throbbing headache that comes with it.

“Make it stop.” I don’t know how to pray, but there is a God. “I’m tired.” I swallow for the fifth time, trying to moisten my patched throat—nothing. “If you hear me, answer me.”
I’ve screamed, fought and bled, and they still take. They don’t give a damn, and I hate it—

I hate the world—

I hate everything.

“Please, I just want to die.” It’s selfish of me that the first thing I pray for is death. Don’t people pray for happiness and a safe life? My eyebrows pinch together as I frown.

I became aware of the tear that slid from my eye into my hair. I must look like a mess. My body is hot, bruised, numb, and my breaths are laboured.
How long was I here? How long ago were my madre and padre killed?

“No!” How long ago was it when I woke up to find my innocence was taken from me? How long ago was it when I woke up with blood between my thighs and my body marked?

“How long, God?” I tried speaking again.

I want to cry, but it hurts. It hurts all over—my heart, mind, soul, my body. “Please.” I ignore the pleas in the bedroom next door.

I wonder what she looks like.
No one will save you. No one would want you, even if you got out of this alive. Ha, nadie, Victoria. Te usaron y nadie quiere bienes usados.

[Ha, nobody, Victoria. They used you and nobody wants used goods.]

Same brown beachy waves, one front tooth missing that she cried the entire night when my madre took it out. Also, she would swap her blanket with mine so we’d have a good night’s sleep and have a piece of each other during the night despite us being each other’s mirrors.

Julia would even get me out of trouble.
Disgrace. That’s why the world would continuously take from you. First was my sister, who I had to finish my childhood without. Then was my madre and padre that I found in a pool of their blood. It didn’t take me twenty-four hours after calling the police that my job, dreams and determination died.

Mama and Papa would never get involved in shady business. We lived in Todos Santos, a small, beautiful, quiet town, and everyone died from old age. Somebody wanted something, and I don’t know what it is.

I just hate that I couldn’t say goodbye—I shouldn’t have needed to do that because they did nothing wrong. I did nothing wrong. I still remember the scream that wretched from my throat—I’ll never forget it. It’ll haunt me for life.