Contrite

sixteen » c i g a r s

"Losers visualize the penalties of failure. Winners visualize the rewards of success." — Unknown.

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Octavia

       "So, why Cuba of all places in the world? If I were you, I would've gone to Fiji or something so I could flirt with all the hot guys." I tell Quiesha amusedly as I eat my pizza slice, walking to the basement of her house after I took a shower and changed into sweats and a shirt. I somehow got the guy behind the register to understand my poor attempt at Spanish in ordering a pizza, it took me a few minutes, really. I tried to get Queisha to help me but she refused to help me, only telling me that I should've paid attention in Spanish class.

       "I only had enough money for a one-way flight to a nearby country. I was not going to America, that's for sure. So I went to Cuba because at the time, you couldn't enter Cuba." Quiesha tells me, leaning over a table full with maps and a beer in her hand, the pizza box on the couch behind her. I walk over to her, looking down at the maps and I take another bite of my pizza.

       "What are you doing?" I ask her, talking with my mouth full and munching loudly as I look at her, she only glances at me before sighing, taking a sip of her beer.

       "Marking all the places Demi has secret safe houses." She tells me, then sets down her half empty bottle then points at the map of the world. I eat the rest of my third slice of pizza as I look over the map.

       She has pin-point marks on the map. There is a safe house in Venezuela. One in Russia. One in Syria. One in Iran. Another in Taiwan.

       And surprisingly, one here in Cuba.

       "Hey, this one is just on the other side of the island, we should check it out." I press my figure to it, looking up at Quiesha. She shakes her head as she leans on the armrest of the couch, crossing her arms over her chest as she looks at me.

       "No, Demi wouldn't be so close to the U.S. After the genocide she did a few months ages, she'll never go anywhere near the U.S. With how President Obama already had established relations with Cuba not too long ago, Americans can go in and out of the country, so no, she wouldn't be here. Our best bets is that she's hiding somewhere where the U.S. does not have any formal diplomatic relations. That means North Korea —"

       "There is no way in hell she's in that country." I interrupted.

       "It's a possibility, Octavia. She's the most wanted criminal in the world, she has friends. Anyway, I don't think she's there either, nobody can get into that country, we can't even get in that country. Another possibility is Iran, with how high tensions are right now between the two countries could possibly led Demi there, but I don't think she would want to be there. The same goes for Syria. Now, Taiwan is a huge possibility, I know Demi has friends there, she did some business there a few years ago. Venezuela is also a possibility, Demi likes to be with Spanish-speaking people, so she tends to stay in South America a lot. Tensions are high between Venezuela and America, so maybe, she's there. Or maybe not —" I cut her off again.

       "What about Puerto Rico?" I ask, leaning back against the table as I look at her.

"What about it?" She gives me a pointed look. "Puerto Rico is territory of the United States, so no, she wouldn't step foot on that island. Even with its economy plummeting and its government in a huge debt, no, she won't go there. Trust me, I've heard they wanted to be the fifty-one state of the states. Absolutely not." She shakes her head, then digs her hand inside her pocket and digs out a cigar and a lighter. She lights up the cigar and blows a puff of smoke to my face, I only wrinkle my nose at her.