Invisible String |

Chapter Two

When I had fallen asleep it had been three in the afternoon, it was now 5pm. Aleida was still peacefully asleep, I unravelled myself from the blankets on the couch. It was interesting to me, I hadn't slept in a bed since the hospital, something about it felt too, odd. I'd slept on the couch all my pregnancy with Aleida. I pulled open a cabinet and poured myself a glass of water, downing it within seconds. I utilized the time I had to clean, I sponged down the counters, and collected the trash bags at the door, figuring I'd take them once she woke up so I wouldn't leave her alone in an empty apartment. 

I picked up the floor, and even put all our dirty clothes into the washer, small blessings was the in unit laundry. That I couldn't afford to pay for. I started the dishwasher and looked around, It was a beautiful apartment, two bedrooms, one bathroom, yet neither of the bedrooms had been filled with anything, other than boxes in my room, containing all my old life, old pictures, my diploma, all the things I'd collected in foster care. I took a deep breath and pushed open the door to my room. There were three large boxes stacked in the corner, my bed completely made too many pillows, and many pink blankets, and a white desk that held books and my laptop, there was also a tv directly across from my bed. and my favorite pink rug across the floor. I smiled, it was so girly. My clothes hung in the closet and in a dresser next to my desk, I sat down on the hardwood floor, and pulled open the first box. On top was a photo album, I opened it up, the first photo I must've been five or six, long honey hair, the wind was blowing across my face, and I was sitting on a swing, next to me stood my mother. I exhaled shakily. And turned to the next page, more of me as a little girl, with different foster parents, on weekly visitations with my father, right after my mother died. Then me at his funeral too. There were photos from the first day of middle school, and then the first of high school, taken on different porches, with different foster parents.

I opened the next album, already knowing what it contained, i breathed shakily. Nonetheless, seeing it my heart sank. It was me and Cesar, taking on my friends iPhone six, it's quality was terrible. Nonetheless, there was me and Cesar, it was at a small party, he was nineteen when I was sixteen, two years removed from high school. I was wearing a short black skirt, too short and a white corset top, that's right, it had been halloween. He wore jeans and a white wife beater tank top. I cringed realizing the name. A leather jacket hung around his shoulders, and his arm was draped over mine. 

That was the night we had met, at that stupid party. I'd just been kicked out of my third foster home in three months, and I got too drunk at the party. I remember the way he looked at me from the first time he'd laid eyes on me, I didn't understand that then. But the way he'd been so charming, handsome, and he'd made me feel seen, made me feel like more than just a fucked up foster kid. 

The next one was one he had taken, a simple selfie. But I remembered how we had screamed at each other for an hour and a half before. I was smiling and he was kissing my cheek. I sighed, turning the page. I half prayed Aleida would wake up and I'd have an excuse to stop going through this. The next one was at my high school graduation, holding my diploma, and his arm wrapped around my waist. I was smiling, and he was smirking. I remembered my graduation like it was yesterday, I wanted to go to a party, or home to the first foster parents I'd ever loved, but we'd gone to his house, and had sex for the first time, my first time. I had cried afterward, and he'd held me in his arms and consoled me, saying that's what people did when they love each other. I shut the album, knowing it contained more photos and I had no desire to see them.

For the first time in a long time, I crawled into my bed, and stared at the ceiling. I picked up my phone then, taking one last trip down memory lane. I wasn't sure why I felt a kind of longing for him at the moment, it wasn't for him, it was for the feeling of being loved. I knew this would not make me happy at all. But yet I still looked through it, I clicked on his contact, and the messages. I scrolled to the top. 

Cesar: "Hey, just wanted to say I'm thinking about you. Hope you're having a good day. I miss you already."

I sighed, scrolling down more. These were from the beginning of our relationship. He used to be so sweet. I analyzed the "Miss you already." and wondered if he'd missed me, or was jealous of whatever i was doing. 

Cesar: "You better get ready. I'm taking you out tonight. You deserve the best."

I sighed again. I could practically hear him saying those words, but now they had a harsh tone to them "you better". I remembered that night, we had gone to my favorite restaurant, driven down to malibu. I hadn't ever known where he got the money, and sometimes I wish I never did. 

I scrolled more and found some from months after that, when things were still good. 

Cesar: "I was just thinking about you, about how perfect you are for me. I need you, Alena. You're all I want."

I wanted to throw my phone, and maybe myself off of a cliff. I clicked on the contact then, and let my finger hover over the delete button, I pressed it, hard. The screen went blank. I shut off my phone and retreated into the living room. Grateful, that part of life was over now, and that nobody could make me feel like their property again not ever. I promised myself right then and there that I would never love again. Not anyone, not romantically anyway. Never again.