Fuck no, Solana. That’s what has you locked away now.
“You don’t sound so good, Mexi-Mami. Describe to me how you feeling… But in English. I ain’t that advance yet.”
If he kept asking me what his slogans and insults meant without repeatedly hearing or saying them, he’d never be fluent in Español. But, then again, Shio could keep me down here forever, and Italian could become a better Spanish speaker than his older cousin.
“I… I don’t mean to be a… Uhhh, a perra… No, no… It’s puta in America. I don’t mean to be a puta?—”
“A bitch! I know that one.”
“Yes, sí…” I cleared my throat as best as I could, but it was so dry. “It hurts to talk, Italian. Stabbing in my stomach… I am shaking, but I’m not cold. My teeth hurt. My arms and legs are sore. I feel pain everywhere… But you don’t need to worry about me. I-I justtt need r-rest.”
White-hot pain flowed through my body as I sputtered the last few words. It almost felt as if something inside of me was broken, like a blade had penetrated my skin and been wedged in between my organs.
“Man, you slept all day yesterday, Solana.”
“I know…”
I could hear more shuffling and then the sliding of the door slot. Italian sounded clearer when he yelled through the slot. “Hold the…Man! Fuck you on the floor for? Shit! I need to call?—”
“No… D-don’t call anyone.”
Especially him.
I missed him. I missed him so much. I missed our routine. I missed the subtle glances he’d toss my way. I missed his authoritative nature. I missed his intense workout sessions. I missed existing in his space, even on the days I was high and locked in the bedroom. That night in the tub—even through his foggy eyes—he looked at me in a way that said he’d do whatever it took to win me. He was ready to do whatever to protect me. Helooked at me as if I were the most precious thing in the world. I couldn’t face him. I wanted to see him, but not like this. Not while I was sick, hunched over, and in agony.
The sliding of the metal door sounded again, this time screeching louder than the door slot. I knew that it was opening, but the door opened in many ways. It could be opened into two halves, as a full door, or by the slot handles on the top and on the bottom half. Italian had only been using the bottom slot to get me food. I was in too much pain to lift and see which way he’d opened the door today.
“Fuuuuck, Mexi-Mami. Want me to come in? I can help you get on the bed?”
“No… No… I-I’m okay. I’ll be o-okay.”
I closed my eyes and counted as the shooting torture raced through me again as I sat up. I was shaking harder than I had when I first got on the bed. I felt liquid drip down my nose, and I sniffed, but more fluid rushed into my nostrils. I swiped my face with the back of my wrist, but my skin was so dry that my hand felt like sandpaper. I felt like my nose was running, yet nothing was there.
“Yo’ nose runnin’?”
I could feel eyes on me, and rightly so, since Italian was peering through the slot. I didn’t have the energy to even turn around and get a glimpse of the person who’d been feeding me and keeping me company, even though a steel door separated us.
“Hold up. I know what to do… Aye, Alexa. What can I do when a crackhead is going through withdrawals?”
“Crack?” I said, not sure he heard me until he chuckled.
“Damn, my bad, Mexi-mami. Hold up… Alexa. What can I do to help a person who is going throughcocainewithdrawal?”
“Did you ask what you should do if a person is experiencing withdrawal from cocaine?” a robotic voice replied to Italian, loud enough that I could also hear.
“Yeap.”
“Okay. Someone going through cocaine withdrawal may experience fatigue, mood changes, and strong cravings. It can help to encourage rest, keep them hydrated, and support them in contacting a medical professional or addiction specialist.”
“Damn. Okay, so, she can’t take no Tylenol or no shit like that?”
“Over-the-counter options like Tylenol may help with headaches or body aches, but they won’t address withdrawal symptoms. A healthcare provider can offer the best guidance.”
“Aye, man. Ain’t nobody going to no doctors,” Italian said with an attitude, then sucked his teeth. “Damn. Alexa… How long does this shit last?”
“Cocaine withdrawal symptoms can begin within a few hours after the last use and may last several days to a few weeks. Some psychological symptoms, like cravings or mood changes, can last longer. I highly suggest contacting a medical professional.”
“Psychological? What you mean? She gonna start seeing shit?” he asked in a near-panicked tone.
