Page 6 of Shadows of the Past
The fear of not knowing where I am fades beneath the crushing reality that my parents were in that house, in that house that went up in flames in front of my eyes, and I know they couldn't have escaped.
I need to get to the girls.
"Good, you're finally coming around," a female voice says as hands prop me into a sitting position.
The room spins, and as my vision clears, the woman before me comes into focus. She’s around thirty, with black hair with reddish streaks pulled into a bun and way too much makeup for her face. The red lipstick on her lips is slightly cracked as she speaks.
"Can you hear me, muchachita?" Her fingers dig into my cheeks.
I nod slightly, and she releases her grip. I can feel where her nails left marks, but I'm too dazed and weak to react.
"Lucky for you she's pretty," I hear her sigh.
I turn my head to take in my surroundings. A desk in one corner, a small boxy TV on the wall, some cheap artwork, and in the middle of the room stands a man. When my eyes find hisface, his grin flashes that gold tooth, sending shivers through my body.
"I'd say she's worth more than what that son of a bitch owed us," he tells the woman while staring directly into my eyes.
I want to scream. I want to make him scream. I want to claw his eyes out with my bare hands, but I doubt I could even stand on my own. My legs feel numb and shaky beneath me, and my head still throbs from the blow it took.
Paciencia, Julia!
"Señor Rogelio will be here soon enough, and we'll see. Until then, get her some water and go clean up the mess you left behind," she commands with that tone that sounds more like "you're dismissed."
He rolls his eyes and heads toward a door leading to a bathroom. I hear water running, and seconds later a cup appears on the table in front of me.
"Don't get used to these niceties, muñequita." Being called "little doll" makes my skin crawl like a thousand insects climbing over me, but I manage to suppress a shiver.
When he leaves the room, I take two sips, hoping they'll help my mouth feel less like I've swallowed sand.
After the cool water slides down my throat, I look up at the woman, who is now sitting at the desk, focused on some papers. She's wearing a tight, strapless brown dress that stops at her knees. She doesn’t seem evil, but the thought of what they might want to do with me sends tremors through my chest.
I need to get out of here.
I scan the room but see no exit besides the main door, and I'm certain she won't let me leave.
Maybe I can appeal to her compassion?
"Por favor, I need you to let me go," I say, and though I want my voice to sound confident, the tremor at the end gives me away.
Her eyes lift, completely unimpressed.
"Look, sweetie, the best thing that can happen to you is if señor Rogelio takes an interest and keeps you. If he leaves you here, trust me, you'll wish you were in that house when it went up in flames," she says with such calm detachment that I have to swallow repeatedly to keep from vomiting.
I don't know who this Rogelio is, but I can guess what will happen when he gets his hands on me, and a panic attack starts to press on my chest.
How the hell do I escape?
Minutes later, I hear a male voice as the door opens. A man around sixty enters, sporting a short beard and the beginning of baldness. His stance reeks of arrogance, his suit so poorly tailored that the jacket hangs too large, while his shirt strains against his protruding belly.
"Don Rogelio, I'm so glad you made it," the woman says, her tone suddenly overeager.
Who the hell would be happy to see this greasy man?
"Carmela, cariño."
He moves toward her, grabs her ass, and kisses her. I turn away as his tongue practically assaults this woman, my stomach churning even more violently.
Eventually, the wet sounds of their kiss stop, and I know he's looking at me. I don't dare raise my eyes, but Carmela's words echo in my head. Would it really be better if this man takes me rather than leaving me here?
