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He looks annoyed now, and I can see him refraining from rolling his eyes and it makes me want to cross my arms like a child.
“It is already taken care of. Your school has been paid with a generous check and your mother’s signature. All you have to do is sign up for the remaining classes that you need for graduation.”
He turns quickly and leaves the room, shutting the door quietly behind him. I bite my lip and stare at the laptop before me. It looks brand new and expensive and though I feel a sense of relief having it, I am also wary about its security settings. More than anything, I want to sign up for my classes, but what I really want is to message Ricky. At least let him know that I’m not dead. I have a feeling that would be out of bounds, and I don’t want to risk my ticket out of this Hell hole.
I power the computer up and am greeted with an internet tab open with my school portal and university email. I smile with glee when I see the balance tab set to “Paid” at the top corner of the screen.
It’s the least he could fucking do.
I begin searching through the course catalog and select the remaining classes needed for my degree as well as a class on restaurant management. Once my schedule is full, all of my start dates are set to two weeks from now. I glance at the calendar and notice it reads the first of August.
I’ve been here for almost a week, and my birthday is only four days from now. I've been the youngest in all of my classes, having started a year early when I was little. I’m four days shy of twenty-one and I’m about to be a college graduate. The thought should excite me, however being held hostage by a drug lord and witnessing a murder takes a little of that excitement away.
I shut the laptop and stretch. I could’ve stayed on there longer, but after last night’s horrific events, I’m deciding to remain obedient in hopes of getting out of here as soon as fucking possible. My stomach rumbles and I stare angrily at it, willing it to stop so that I don’t have to leave this room for even something as important as food.
I opt for a quick shower and a change into a pair of jeans and a cashmere sweater. I am warm and tired and even though my stomach is growling at me in protest, I decide to grab a book from the bookshelf by the fireplace, scouring its contents and deciding onLes Miserables,deeming it fit for my current situation. I sit down on the bed and read as much as I can before my eyes shut and I fall asleep once more.
I awake slowly and look at the clock to realize that I’ve slept most of the day. It is just after nine at night and the sky is already black with a few stars. My stomach is roaring and though I fear the outside of this room, I can deny my hunger no longer. I slip out of bed and tiptoe to the door, taking a deep breath before opening it and looking around the hallways. Once I am greeted with emptiness and silence, I walk quietly and make a silent rush to the kitchen.The kitchen is dark with no sign of Javier, Dante or any staff member. I rush to the fridge and grab water, berries and a bowl of yogurt. The protein should keep me full until tomorrow so that I will not need another trip outside of my quarters anytime soon. Contents in hand, I make my way back to my room and snag a banana on the way out of the kitchen. I am almost halfway out of the room when I hear a crash outside of the back door. Frowning, I set my food down on the counter and crouch down to the floor, waiting for an imminent threat to appear before me.
After a few minutes of silence, I get up and walk towards the back door. I can see the light from the greenhouse shining through its open door. Although I know it is best for me to mind my business, my stomach was suddenly nauseous, and my skin was crawling. Something wasn’t right and I worried somebody was in danger, more than likely Javier.
I walk quietly outside and stop outside the greenhouse, keeping myself out of sight while still looking around as much as I can. My eyes stopped at the row of Devil’s breath, and I looked down, where I noticed a small and delicate hand laying on the ground just around its corner. I look around and walk quietly into the greenhouse, rounding the corner and gasping at the sight of my mother, blue and unconscious on the cement floor.
9
Esmeralda
I yellout for help and immediately begin chest compressions on my mother.
Once I am able to hear her breathing and find her pulse, I begin to pick her up. The first time I saw her like this I was five. It was heroin and I called the emergency line. While I was on the phone, I remember them telling me to put her in the shower if I could or splash water onto her face.
Ever since then, when I found her unconscious, I would do CPR and then load her in the shower. After a while I would only call an emergency line if I couldn't get her to breathe. This time is different.
This time, she hasn't had access to any drugs and I have no idea what she has in her system, though if I had to guess, it would be this fucking plant above us. This plant who I have little to no knowledge about, other than the side effects are either like a roofie or death.
I hear footsteps pounding towards us and I begin to lift my mother when I spot Sergio, Dante and a couple of guards behind them. Dante curses angrily as Sergio and his men rush to my mom, pulling her out of my arms and picking her up.
“Put her in the shower please! Try to wake her up.” I sound panicked, even though I should be used to the sight of this after years of replaying this same scene over and over again.
The men begin rushing out of the greenhouse with my mother. I follow behind with my fingers still on her wrist to track her pulse. I can feel it stuttering and slowing.
“Her heart rate is dropping! We have to do something, call an ambulance or something!”
Dante and his men stared at me like I had five heads. I get why you shouldn’t call emergency services to a cartel leader's house, but something has to give.
“We have something to help your mother, pequeña, but first you need to calm the fuck down.” Dante’s voice is dark and I suddenly wish that he was the one unconscious.
Sergio lays my mother down on one of the couches in the dining hall and begins fishing around in his suit jacket pocket. Within seconds, he pulls out a syringe, takes the cap off and tears my mom's shirt open. He then jams the needle right into her chest where her heart lays.
“What the fuck is that?” I gasp
“Adrenaline. Have you not seen Pulp Fiction?” I glare at Dante, his comment irritating me further than I was previously. Just as I was about to respond, my mother expels a loud burst of air and shoots up, her arms flailing like a fish out of water.
“Oh thank fuck.” I sigh in relief and try to rush to her, but Dante blocks me with a muscled arm, pushing me back. I look up at him in confusion. All he does is click his tongue at me and shakes his head twice, his silky and black hair whispering across his jaw.
“She’s my fucking mother, Dante. Let me go to her.”
“Right now, she's a hostage that just overdosed in our greenhouse.” It is Sergio that speaks, and his tone is clipped. Dante pulls me out of view as my mother begins to shout.
