We shop until we drop, almost literally.
We’ve hit the Disney and Harley store amongst others, when something caught her eye, we checked it out and nine-tenths of the time, got what she wanted—this girl will never have to wear the same outfit again day in and day out like I did at her age. I’ll make damn sure of it. Kids are cruel and heartless, when they see someone struggling with something regardless of if it’s their clothes or family problems, they pounce and use it against them.
CHAPTER
THREE
Letti
My family has always beenappalling.
Horrid people.
My mother has birthed several children, over a dozen, only to sell them off to the highest bidder like they’re a disposable inconvenience.
My siblings have been nothing more than bargaining chips for her. I spit on the ground, putting another lifelong curse on her as her face mentally flashes across my mind. If my ancestors are listening and feel like being good to me, this one will stick.
Me? I’m nothing more than a maid, a punching bag, and a birthing coach. Exhaling an angry breath, I toss all of the soiled towels to the corner of the room as my incubator hands off my newest brother, not even looking at him as she reaches over to the nightstand and lights up a cigarette while my tío, Enrique, pours her a double shot of bourbon straight from the bottle. This whole ordeal makes me gag.
My newest sibling’s not even a minute old and she’s already forgotten he exists.
“Sick bitch,” I mumble underneath my breath, trying not to be overheard by the house full of crooked people who speak English and associate with my family, as my abuela, Maritza, who’s just as sick and twisted as my mother, grabs me by my arm, pinching it as she drags me back down the hallway to the closet where I’ll be locked away until the next time I’m needed. As she tosses me in like I’m a rag doll and locks it behind her, I bang on the door with my balled-up fists and holler out, “One day, y’all are going to regret treating me like this!” Her maniacal laughter floats away from me as she retreats, making me grit my teeth.
I’ve often wondered why the bitch who carried me in her womb chose to keep me instead of making me another statistic—a throwaway. I’d rather be sold into servitude than watch another baby be whisked away to places unknown. My soul can’t take it anymore, everything I’ve witnessed has fractured it. I lower myself to the floor and tuck my knees into my chest as tears stream down my cheeks.
For years I’ve tried to find a way to escape, all attempts have been unsuccessful. When I’m let out of this gilded cage, I’m watched like a hawk.
Every move I make is scrutinized.
I can’t even take a shower without a guard watching my every move. All the windows have been boarded up, the doors hanging on hinges have been nailed closed—there is no escape within my grasp because I don’t carry any tools that’d be useful on me. This place is a hovel, no better than a ramshackle shed that a heavy wind could knock over—I wish it would. I’ve fantasized more often than not that a Texas tornado would touch down, sweepthrough this encampment that’s full of gangsters and lowlife thugs, and end my miserable existence.
My education is lackluster, I made it to the eighth grade before my mother decided to have me ‘homeschooled’, which is laughable seeing as I never picked up another pen or piece of paper again. I’m not sure how she got away with it without the state kicking in, but here we are years later without any sort of investigation ever taking place. That could also be due to the fact that we’ve moved more often than people switch out their shoes. I’m sure there’s no longer any sort of paper trail leading to me.
Corruption is everywhere and the school system is the worst. If I was white instead of Latina, there’d have been a search party under way, out there looking for me, splashing my face across the media. But I wasn’t and am not. I’m poor. I’m dismissible. Easily forgotten. There one minute and gone the next—no one even batted an eye when I didn’t show up.
A light knock on the door has me scurrying backward, it’s too soon, why would someone be coming for me now? When there’s a crack in the door, my cousin, my favorite prima, Maribella peers back at me. “I’m getting you out of here tonight, Leticia. It’s not safe for you to be here anymore.”
I ignore the last part of her statement, it’s never been safe for me to be here. Nobody’s cared before, so why now? What’s changed that has her concerned? My eyes close shut as hope blooms in my chest. “How?” I croak out. “Why?”
“I don’t have time to give you all the details, but I overheard the elders, the ancianos, talking. You’re the eldest female and are fertile with good birthing hips. Your madrehas gotten too old to continue providing financial support for the family, they’vecalled in the doctor, he’ll be stopping by tomorrow to give you a clean bill of health, and after that, you’ll start breeding.”
My heart drops because that’s a future I don’t want for myself. I won’t be usingmywomb in the same manner as my mother has. I’m not loyal to this family, I could care less if they starved to death. “Then you’ll be the next in line, Maribella,” I swiftly remind her. “After me, comes you.”
“I’ll be leaving too, Leticia,” she informs me. “Matteo and I will get you as far away from here as we can then we’re seeking refuge with his family in Florida. I’d take you with us, but since we’ll be getting married along the way, I’ll be family so they’ll accept me.”
“And I’m not so they won’t accept me,” I add.
“Right,” she whispers. “I’m sorry, Leticia.”
“It’s okay,” I quickly reply, not wanting her to feel guilty. “You’re at least going to give me a fighting chance to get out and make a life for myself. How could I ask for more?”
Noise from the front of the house has her placing her finger over her lips as she slowly closes the door so it doesn’t creak. As the locks re-engage, my shoulders slump. I’m not sure how Maribella and Matteo plan on getting me out of this house unnoticed, but no matter how foolish their plan may be, I’ll take my chances, even if it means my death.
The house was eerily quiet when my cousin and her boyfriend snuck me out. We took every precaution we could think of so they wouldn’t search for me and their attention would beglued to my missing cousin instead. Seeing as I had what they considered enough food and water to survive until the doctor arrived for my check up, our hope was that they wouldn’t come looking for me so we locked the room back up and made it seem as if I was being the good, docile girl they expected me to be.
I’d do that from time to time, especially after one of my siblings was shipped off so it wasn’t odd for me to be quiet and sullen during those hours afterward and it wouldn’t cause anyone to think I was doing anything other than sulking and come to check on me.
Guess my well-known surliness helped in our grand escape plan.
