And After that We Didn't Talk

We Fought, She Lost

Chapter thirteen

I woke up the next morning to the sound of humming. I was wearing a satin gown and flowery housecoat. My braids were loose and shoved in a bonnet. I rolled off the couch and on to the carpeted floor. I struggled to get up. I could barely move. My body must have been still woozy from whatever drug I was given last night. But that didn't stop me, I wanted answers. I, slowly but surely, followed the humming. It led me to the room that was locked yesterday. As I approached the door, the humming stopped. I tried the door knob and to my surprise the door was unlocked. I opened the door slightly, leaving barely enough room for me to peer through.

This was the only room in the house that was untidy. Clothes and shoes of varying sizes were scattered everywhere. Plates of non eaten food littered the floor. Gloria sat at the foot of a messy bed rocking back and forth. She was humming a Spanish tune in between deep sighs. Her hands held an empty syringe. Pumping the syringe vigorously, Gloria stood up and walked over to retrieve a small vile from the dresser. Was she sick? I was so caught up in my own thoughts, that I almost missed the small head that poked out from underneath the covers. A young girl laid intertwined in the comforter. By the looks of her, she was barely conscious. "No more needles" The girl's voice was a soft whisper. Gloria ignored the girl and held the syringe to the light.

Gloria was distracted. If I left now, I could get to safety. Gloria might have been a crazy murderous bitch, but she was still old. However, If I did that, I'd never be able to live with myself. Gloria was a monster. I had to stop her.

"Get away from her, you old crazy bitch!" I said busting in the room as loudly as possible. I startled them both momentarily. I took advantage of the few seconds by tackling Gloria to the ground.

"Run kid," I yelled pinning Gloria's head between my knee and the shaggy carpet. The little girl's eyes were the size of golf balls. " Abuelita,"  she cried. Tears began to run down her cheeks. Which was not the reaction I expected.

"What the fuck, Loquita!?!" Gloria was pissed. "Get the fuck off of me and sal de mi casa!" She was trying to lift my shin from her chest, but she couldn't. Thank you, quarantine weight.

"I am not leaving  here without an explanation." I demanded. My eyes shifted to the small girl whose tears were accompanied by inaudible cries. She was a cute petite girl, no older than 12 years old. Her almond shaped eyes looked like they were colored in with a yellow marker. After a silent, but intense, staring session, the girl collapsed back into her bed. She was definitely sick. I immediately felt guilty. I rose from Gloria and offered her a hand. She ignored it and got up by herself.

"You are one crazy puta." Gloria huffed straightening out the wrinkles in her floral nightgown.

"I could say the same thing. Or did you forget that you drugged me last night." I said staring her right in the eyes. Gloria didn't flinch.

" Your friends were right, you do love to make everything about yourself.  And yes, I did what I had to do to make sure my granddaughter and I were safe. I told you last night, these are crazy times Loquita."

"With all the ass-eating-cannibals running around, right." I mocked. I felt unsettled and nauseous, like if I didn't eat soon I would die.

"Believe what you want Loquita, pero they're real. We've seen first hand what they can do?" Gloria was facing me but her eyes wandered.

"Oh really, I guess that's whose blood was mopped up and bleached down in your bathroom."

"That was my daughter." Gloria's eyes fell to the ground.

"You killed your own daughter?" I could barely make out the sentence. What the fuck.

"You have to remember it is not just the cannibals you have to watch, It's the uninfected as well. People are scavenging, stealing, looting. The government promised aid -stimulus packages -containing food, medicine, sewing stuff- yet half the country has yet to be stimulated. I guess their waiting for us to kill each other."

I put my hand up. I didn't want to hear anymore. "You killed your daughter over supplies." I could barely out the last word.

"Jasmine has been sick her whole life. She has spent more time in the hospital than school and church; sickle cell will to that. When we heard rumors that the stimulus packages never left the CDC. The three of us were planning to go to DC together to have some extra meds for safe measure. But when Jasmine got sick this time her pain was astronomically worse than her other episodes. Jasmine wouldn't eat, couldn't sleep without pain medicine. We knew she would go into Crisis soon. My daughter... " Gloria spat on the ground disgustedly. She looked at the small girl laying in the room and her eyes softened " That puta thought it would be best to leave Jasmine behind."

"So she wanted you guys to make a trip to DC and come back with meds. That is no reason to kill her."

"I came into Jasmine's room one morning and saw that puta was putting twice as much morphine in Jasmine's syringe. She said it was giving her daughter mercy. That a sick child could never survive in este mundo. Can you imagine that; a mother killing her own daughter?" Her eyes were flooded with tears. "We fought verbally. We fought physically. We fought, she lost. I cleaned up the mess. You came shortly after."

So, Gloria killed her daughter to stop her daughter from killing her granddaughter. This was just too much to process. My nausea washed over me like a wave. I decided to ask one last question. " Gloria, why did you take me in?"

Gloria looked at the barely conscious girl then back at me. "Because I need your help Loquita!"