Dual Eclipse

13

I cursed as the first drop fell on my nose. It was cold and windy, and it had started thirty minutes ago.

I left mami’s casita without my coat, and now I’d regret it because I was hungry. I groaned. “Estupida.”

Darkness swirled around me, and the wind picked up on the cigar smoke. It was so filthy in this neighbourhood that I decided to turn back.

Houses decorated the streets, stacked atop each other, slanted, wooden and stained. That was people’s lives. That was my life.

Smoke, rain and night don’t make a good concoction in Colombia. It’s the same way how violence, bad influence and I should not mix. How am I going to back out from this secret society? They’d find a way to punish me, and it wouldn’t be rosas y dulces azucarados.

[roses and sugary sweets]

Christo! What was I thinking, going against Sasha’s orders or leaving the casita? A gust of wind took me with it, and the rain started falling like it meant to wash my sins away.

My behind burned from the impact of the fall, and I quickly got up and out of the rain. The canopy of someone’s almacén was the only shelter I could have gotten, but my feet were drenched and cold from those slippers.

My bag found no mercy, and all the papers would soak up the water. I started to cry. Que ridícula, sí? I tightened my arm around my body and trembled.

[How ridiculous, right?]

I felt the back of me to the secret pocket inside the bag. He won’t answer. It’s late at night, and he won’t answer. Domi’s name flashed on the screen, and it rang. I clicked the screen to end the call when the screen went black.

I screamed, the phone slipping from my hand onto the floor. So many things fogged my brain. One moment, I was crying from the fall, screaming from the frustration, which turned into fear.

I kicked and fought the strong arms around my midriff, my heart ready to burst from fright. Dios. I should have listened. Mami would be so worried. She’d be hurt if I, God forbid, die. She’d live with grief, and maybe Sasha wouldn’t feel anything, but I can’t say goodbye like this.

Not ever.

I take the chance and relax my body. I allowed him to pull me with him, fearing what was to come if I failed to free myself. My body shook from worry and the cold rain. I opened my mouth and bit down—hard on his palm. I don’t know which I sensed first. The taste of copper inside my mouth or the sharp sting in my side from the bastardo throwing me on the ground. My breathing picked up, and I kicked my foot into his kneecap.

He buckled, but that didn’t stop him from grabbing my ankles. I frantically searched my bag for a pen or a divider, anything sharp in my defence. “¡Déjame en paz!” He grunts, pulling me to him. My shirt lifted, and my bare skin scratched against the filthy concrete. I cried harder, praying that I found what I needed.