Changing Scenery

What can you do when your only hope of escape is a little tiny blacked out window on the other side of the basement?

What do you do when you can’t remember the last time you saw sunlight?

You do what I do.

I sit trying to get the shackle off of my left arm. Trying to maybe manage to make it further then the middle of this empty dreary room.

To the bed placed just out of my reach to taunt me.

Wishing I had enough endurance to break my thumb so I could pull my arm out of the shackle.

I do quadratic equations in my head and recite poems I learned in eighth grade, just to keep my mind going. But always in my head. I never speak, she might hear me.

I regret that I never appreciated my friends until I was gone.

I regret I never told my sister how much I love her.

I regret that I never made it to sophomore year.

I wonder what my dad would do if he knew that the monstrosity he married was the one who took me.

I wonder if he knows she’s cheating on him.

I pray every day that he finds out that I’m in her basement of the house he doesn’t know she even has.

I bet she bought it with the money she told him I stole.

I think she might be coming. The floor boards are creaking over my head.

I wonder what month it is now.

I wonder if my sister graduated high school yet. She was the smart one. She left with mom.

What could have been if I didn’t look Latina? Maybe she would have never noticed. Of course my dad had to marry a racist white woman.

In case you’re wondering, he is white, but my mom is Latina. And me?

I am double.

Bi-racial.

Café con leche.

Mixed.

Whatever you want to call me.

Just don’t call me trash.

I don’t think she ever liked me.

Oh, the door is opening up.

Ah, Dios. I move into a ball on the floor and try to act like I’m asleep.

Breathe deeply.

Whatever you do, don’t move, I tell myself.

She comes down the stairs, but after every step there is a 'thud' following. It sounds like she is dragging something.

This isn't the usual way she walks. She isn’t clicking with each step, so she’s not wearing heels, so she isn’t coming home from work.

She always stops here before she goes home. That’s why I get a basic idea of time of day. She comes here right after work, at about 6. But I think she changes it every once in a while to confuse me.

She’s down the stairs now, and I definitely hear her dragging something.

Something rustles, then I hear her move the other shackle, and I brace myself for her to move me so she can clip it on.

She always clips my other wrist before she hurts me.

But it clicks without her ever touching me.

What in the world?

She heads back up the stairs, and returns a moment later with what I assume to be a plate of some sort of food, and maybe, if I’m lucky, a water bottle too.

She yanks on my chain, and I let her pull my arm out from underneath me.

She is checking to make sure I haven’t gotten it off yet. Like I would still be laying here if I could.

Then she goes back upstairs and locks the accursed basement door.

I wait for a minute just to make sure she doesn’t come back down. It’s a rare day that she doesn’t hurt me.

But I’ve learned to keep quiet. The first few times she would come down, she would kick me and kick me, sometimes punch me, and once, I think she burned me.

Obviously, at first I screamed, but she only did it harder.

I’ve learned that if I don’t move, don’t even breathe, it’ll be over soon and she will go upstairs. Only then will I cry.

I never let her see me cry.

Because she is the weak one. She is the one who needs to hit me to feel better. She is the one who had to steal me so my father will cry on her shoulder. She is the one who is so ignorant to degrade everyone who isn’t white. She is the one that hates to look at me because my skin isn't like cream.
She hates me because I am café con leche.

And becase I simply won’t give her the pleasure of knowing she has broken me.

She may see me as the weaker person because my skin is dark and my hair is black and I sound a little different because of my mother’s accent, but I will prove that I am not.

She will never see me cry.

I think it is safe to move now. Slowly, as not to scrape myself on the concrete, I push myself up, and turn around.

First, I notic the food, it looks like rice and some sort of green vegetable, and not one, but two water bottles. Then…

“Ah mi Dios!” I whisper to myself.

They were the first words I said in at least a month.

I feel a single lone tear streak down my face before I get a chance to wipe my eyes.

There, only a few feet away lies my sister Catalina, spread out on the floor, her face dirty and her hair covering most of her face. Although her arm is shackled to a ring in the wall just like mine, both her hands and both of her feet are tied together.

“Ah, Dios, Dios, Dios.” I whisper to myself as I move closer to Catalina and gently begin unknotting the rough rope that bound her.

There’s no way I could let her wake up like this.

And I don’t think it would sit well if I just left her. Even if I'll have to tie her back up later on.

And even though I’m pissed they didn’t find me.

Slowly, I manage to free her hands, then the other, grimacing as I see the bloody rings encircling her wrists from the bindings.

I put the rope in my pocket, and move on to undo her ankles. After a minute or so I finally free her and right on time, she starts to move around.

I scoot back up towards her head, and take her hand in mine.

“Talina?” I whisper.

She slowly opens her eyes, and focuse on me.

“Sarita…” She says, her voice rough and dry and she she lets out a huge deep painful cough.

“Shhh.” I shush her and grab a water bottle, cracking it open and holding it to her lips.

She takes a huge drink, downing almost half of the bottle before I pull it away.

Catalina pulls herself up into a sitting position and leans up against the wall.

“I missed you.” She breathes, more to herself I figure, than to me.

“Missed you too.” I pause, thinking of anything I might need to ask before she forgets.

“Talina?” I finally say.

“Yeah?”

“What’s today’s date?” I said, savoring the feel of the words as they come out of my mouth.

“It’s June 1st.”

I nod in response, then let my mind go into its daily routine.

I started reciting The Raven.

I let my lips move, but say nothing.

Once upon a midnight dreary, While I pondered weak and weary, over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore…

“What are you doing?” Catalina pokes me.

“Reciting. Do you mind?”

“Yes. Why?”

“So that I don’t go crazy.”

“Why would you go crazy?” Sometimes I just want to smack her.

“When was the last time you saw the sun, Catalina?” I growl.

“Yesterday.”

“Ask me that question.” I shot at her.

She sighs. “When was the last time you saw the sun, Sarita.”

“The beginning of April.”

“Okay, Okay, I get your point.”

I figure she sees the value in my logic, as her lips began moving. I think it's something from Emily Dickinson.

I keep on going with Poe.

After a while, I look over at the darkened window and tried to make out how dark outside it was.

I think it might be dark already.

Ah, Dios. She is way overdue.

I think I will call her by her name to keep from confusing things. Her name is Lily.

What a juxtaposition to have such a horrid person be named after a flower.

Well, anyway, I figure she’s overdue to come down. Not that I am looking forward to it but still.

Right on time I hear the front door of the house slam again...Lily is back.

I’ve got about ten minutes.

Mierda.

"Talina?" I whisper to my sister, breaking her out of her recitation.

"Yeah."

"You're going to hate me in about 5 seconds." She looks at me, and slowly her eyes narrow.

"What do you mean, Sarita." Her voice tightened.

"Well...I kind of have to...well..." I trail off. I really don't need to make her pissed at me.

"Spit it out Sarita." She orders.

"Tie you back up." I murmur out, avoiding my sisters eyes.

"QUÉ?"

"Well, when Lily brough you down, you were umm, asleep. And tied up. I figured you wouldn't exactly be happy with me if I let you wake up like that."

"Continue." Her voice cuts at me.

"So, I need to tie you back up."

"Yeah, you want to explain that again?" Sometimes, Catalina just isn't very good at making connections.

"She thinks I'm asleep."

"Why."

Grrrr.

Dios. Ay Dios me ayuda.

"Because, Catalina. Now, I can do this with your help, or I swear I'll do it regardless. I'm a little more used to this then you."

"Fine."

"Fine." Catalina held out her hands, and saw the marks around them for the first time."

Her mouth dropped open and she yanked her hands back.

"Sa...Sa...Sa..." She stutters. Catalina has a high pain tolerance, but she's severely afraid of blood.

"Just trust me Catalina. I won't hurt you. I promise."

Talina slowly held her hands out, and I took them in mine.

Her feet are moving above our heads.

Ay, I'm running out of time.

I wind the rope around her wrists, stopping when I hear the little hiss come from between her teeth.

Before she gets a change to say anything I tell her to lay down, and I position her as she was when I rolled over and first saw her.

Then I move down to her feet and quickly retied them, and pull her jeans back down over the rope.

"Stay still. Look asleep." I ordered her, before moving back to my former position.

Just as I close my eyes, Lily opens up the door.

Instantly my breathing rate starts to go up, and I fight to pull it back down.

She is in heels again.

Click, click, click, all the way down the stairs and into the middle of the room, where the clicks stop, and her breathing echoes across the room.

Why is she stopping?

Breathe, Sarita, breathe.

She takes another step towards me.

Brace.

I hear the faint rustling of her pants shifting, and I take it that her leg is moving, which means she is coming at me.

Ay meirda.

I register the impact before the wave of pain hits me.

I know that it's going to leave a bruise in a few hours.

I don't move.

Talina is shifting next to me.

Ay Dios. This is not going to be pleasant.

Please don't move Catalina. If you love me, don't move. Please.

The rustling starts again, and almost instantly I feel an impact on my other side, and I let my body wriggle with the force.

I can't breathe.

Ay Dios, I can't breathe. I struggle to take a breath as I brace for the next blow.

I can hear Talina moving next to me.

Please, don't move.

A new rustling starts to come from the left of me.

Ay, Dios. Catalina is moving. Just as Lily's rustling starts again, I hear Talina sit up.

"Get off of her!"

The blow strickes me in the head, and I feel my senses start to dim as I hear rustling followed by a moan from Talina.

"No..." I moan as everything fades to black.

Author's Note

Thoughts? Questions? Comments? Something?
It was really hard writing this is first person, and I continuously kept switching back to third, so if you spot any "third-isms" please let me know.
New chap in no more then a week.

Reviews

[Becca*Type2012]

Nice write! I can't help imagine you as the narrator because some of the things she did/ said you would totally do/say. Example, "You're going to hate me in about 5 seconds." and the narrator reciting The Raven from middle school. Back to story... Nice satrt and keep going!

[Vague]

Interesting story so far.

My interest is piqued to read more, for sure.

"She yanks on my chain, and I let my her pull my arm out from underneath me." This sentence appears to be typoed, though. I assume you meant it to be, "let her pull my arm."

There were a couple minor cases of letters missing from words in some spots as well. I just figure you would wanna know.