By Alisson Andrea Alas Bonilla
Volume 2 Issue 3
January 14, 2022
Image provided by Motion Array
She wakes up every morning to take her little girl to school. She bathes her and brushes her hair. Exceptionally gentle, she cares. The little girl gets to school, sits on her chair. To pay attention, she swears. Her teacher glances at her. A young Voltaire, she’s aware. School ends. Her mother at work can’t pick her up. So she walks. She walks alone, wanting to get home.
Chilly with an evening sky, she notices a man behind her. She hurries up a little. He grabs her from the middle. He puts a wet cloth on her face. The next thing she knows, she is in an unknown place. She screams, “Please let me go; I’m only 8, for all I know.” He doesn’t seem to listen. Screaming in despair, she wishes to see her mother once more. She can feel pain through her veins. So unfair, she thinks. He stops for a while, takes one drink, looks at her, and winks.
“Please, my mother is worried. I’m young, and you must be done,” she says with bloodshot eyes.
He turns, “You think I mind, little girl? You think I care at all? Chose you of all the young ones in the world, had to hurt your mother one way or another”.
She puts her hands to her head. Teardrops on her face. She wonders what her mother has done to deserve such a fate. Why must she receive all this hate? Will I die tonight? Will I have sight of her again? Will I win this fight? Or is he just insane enough to keep hurting me?
“Who are you?” she asked with a frightened voice.
He turned with a devious smile. She stared for a while. She looked at his hair, his eyebrows, his eyes, and finally, his lips, where a mirror image of her birthmark lay. Exactly where she had hers. Suddenly she knew, and he knew she knew. He smiled and walked towards her. She backed away. There was nowhere to run. No doorway. No way out.
“Please, I know who you are!” she screamed with every ounce of her, through the burning agony. “What you did to her, you are doing to me...!” And then everything went black.