The Lies She Lived

Chapter 1 - Eliza (Liz)

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"Get up" there's a strong grip on my shoulders before the hard feeling of them being pulled on.
      "Give me a minute." I groan in response. Either my mother doesn't hear me or just don't care because my shoulders endured another set of hard tugging
       "now, Eliza!" I turn on to my  side, back facing her now
       "Okay, I'm-" another yank on my shoulder, this one more forceful than the last two. Before I could stop myself I quickly turn over while sitting up, facing her
       "just one damn second! Please!" For a split moment, there is a look of shock plastered on her face but that quickly turns to anger. We both just stare at each other for a couple of seconds. I could see the rage in her eyes flaring. I expect her to explode and raise hell as usual but to my surprise when she finally speaks up all she lets out is a stern "fine" before walking out my room, pulling my door shut behind her. I let myself flop back down on to my bed in relief, I'm in no shape to battle it out with her. My head is still pounding, most definitely from the excessive amount of alcohol I drank last night. But no amount of alcohol could erase the horror I witnessed. As I lay in bed the memories begin to flood back into my head. The damp grass beneath my feet, the thickness of the air, the blood, all that blood. Tears start to blur my vision, I force myself out of bed quickly trying to shake away the dark images of what happened just a few hours ago. I take my medication before going to the bathroom and taking a hot shower. I'm not able to enjoy feeling the steaming hot water beating against my bare back because the silence invites the horrific images to cloud my mind yet again. I can't stop seeing her mangled body soaked in blood and covered in bruises, my mind focusing on every single detail now that I never even noticed when I first witnessed it. The memories are becoming too much, there's an unsettling feeling in my stomach and I start to feel light headed. I cut my shower short but not before scrubbing my face clean of makeup that hasn't already been smeared off from my tears and my pillow. I throw on an oversized sweatshirt and some leggings before pulling back my still damp hair into a low ponytail to dry. I muster up all the energy I had left in me before heading downstairs, ready to face the rage that I'm sure is waiting for me.

        The scent of burnt toast and brewing coffee hits me before I even enter the kitchen. Once I do I see my parents and Miguel all sitting at the dinner table. My mother cautiously drinks her hot mug of coffee while watching the opening, waiting for me to finally come down and join. Miguel is too busy scarfing down some chocolate chip pancakes to even notice my presence while papa is working on a crossword puzzle in an old newspaper. There's an empty seat beside him with a plate covered in scrambled eggs, 2 slices of toast, and a mini blueberry muffin with a glass of milk. I presume that the plate was set for me so I shuffle over and take a seat.
        "Buenos días sweetheart," Papa says without looking up from his puzzle
         "Morning." I croaked out, I didn't realize how dry my throat is until now. Probably because I was too busy worrying about my pounding head, so I take a small sip of my milk. There's a silence that fills the room, besides Miguel's constant chewing. The type of silence where it's tense because despite nothing being said you know that there's something that's waiting to get said. And as I thought, my mother is the one to break the silence
        "Aren't you going to at least attempt to explain yourself, young lady?"
         "For what?" Bad move on my part because she instantly starts to raise her voice and I can hear the annoyance in it.
         "'For what'? How about coming home after one in the morning last night? For your breath reeking of alcohol this morning? For-" papa cuts her off, coming to my rescue
         "Oh come on, Amelia. Give her a break, it was her senior prom."
         "So that excuses her from breaking the law and my rules? Samuel, she's only seventeen! She can't drink and be out at two in the morning, lord knows what other things she could've gotten into" my mother barked back.
         "Can she at least take one bite her food before she has to start explaining herself? I'm sure she only had a couple of glasses just to celebrate, nothing serious" my papa sends me a consoling wink, letting me know that he's got my back. I only manage to send back a small smile of gratitude to silently thank him. My mother, clearly frustrated, throws her hands up in the air followed by a scoff
         "Why do I even bother. She can do no wrong in your eyes." She gets up and goes to the counter with her mug to pour herself some more coffee. 
         "God Amelia, give her a break. She deserves a drink or two with the hell of a year she has had-" the sound of my mother's mug slamming down on the counter grabs the attention of both papa and I. My mother shoots him a severe look, a look that threatens him to stop talking ASAP while nodding towards Miguel. Who's too focused on devouring his food to even notice the halt of discussion in the room. My mother lets out a tired sigh
          "I just want you to be more responsible, sweetie. You're gonna be going out into the world on your own soon and I- I worry about you. I don't want you to struggle because you're unprepared, being out in the real world on your own can be scary-" that's when her phone starts ringing from her robe pocket.
         "I'm sorry, mama," I say softly.
         "mhm, don't think this conversation is over just yet, young lady." She answers her phone
         "Hey Rosa" my heart drops into my stomach, which feels even more uneasy than it did earlier, at the mention of my tìa's name.
         "wait, what's wrong? Rosita, Rosita! I can't understand you what happened?" Now both papa and Miguel freeze and stare at my mother, noticing that clearly something is wrong while my mom is silently gripping the phone against her ear. The room is so quiet and still that I'm sure that everyone can hear my racing heart that is now pounding against my chest, wanting to break free. Of course, that only worsen the churning feeling in my stomach that roars like waves crashing into each other during a hurricane. I watch as my mother's face scrunches into a mixture of pain and distraught as tears slowly start to flow like a steady river down her face, an instant wave of guilt washes over me. She attempts to say something but instead of words, sobs come out immediately as she falls to her knees. My papa springs up and rushes to the aid of my mother while Miguel jumps back in his sit in shock, so hard that he almost tips his chair backward. Papa is crouching beside her, holding her and asking back to back what's wrong. But I already knew the awful answer before she could even put the words together in her head to form what she said next.
          "It's Izzy, they found her out in the back dead, someone killed her" She manages to say in between sobs. At that moment every horrific image of last night flashes in my head as that uneasy feeling rushes from my stomach to my throat. In an instant, my throat is sore with pain as vomit propels from my mouth. Once my stomach is completely empty I just sit there gagging and retching with tears running from my face as I hear my mother cries and screams. Izzy, my cousin and once best friend, is dead. Not only is she dead but she was killed in a cruel manner. In pain and alone, and I'm to blame.