The next two days stretch on forever; they are filled with boredom and uncertainty, though I finally get over my bug. Just before dinner, Raine strolls into our room. She holds out a piece of paper. "Here. This is for you."
I unfold the note, unable to hide a grin. It's from Felipe; I recognize his handwriting from the postcard he sent.
Meet me one flight down, second room on the left from the end. It's number sixteen.
He must have come home and probably wanted to take a shower, or maybe he was tired and needed a nap before meeting up with me. We can cuddle a little or go out for dinner.
Humming under my breath, I grab a fresh towel out of my suitcase and hop into the shower. Squirtingthe expensive shower oil into my palm that leaves my skin especially soft, mymood improves as I lather up. I softly sing, biting my lip. I draw a heart onthe wet, steamed-up tile. I can't wait to snuggle in his arms and an excitedsurge runs through my body.
I dry off and hurry to spread body lotion all over my skin. When I get back to the room, Raine is stretched out on the bed. She has her book open and doesn't appear to leave anytime soon. Getting into my light blue summer dress takes some acrobatics and a few times, the towel almost slips. Raine smirks and shakes her head. The other day, I almost died when both she and Bettina changed their shirt right in front of me, displaying their boobs without the slightest reservation. I can't even stand it if they see me in my underwear, but dressing in the damp shower stall isn't ideal either.
I curl my hair while I dry it, focusing on the tips to give them a natural bounce. The ends are starting to split and I'll need a trim when I get home. Rummaging through the bag with my duty-free purchases, I pull out the mascara to draw attention to my naturally curved eyelashes, the only part I find remotely pretty about myself.
After applying a thin layer of lip gloss, I'm ready to face Felipe. Walking along the corridor, I hum under my breath and my cheeks hurt from smiling. My heart is beating louder and louder with every step. When I get to the door and knock, my whole body trembles with excitement.
No one answers and I knock again. Finally, a boy who couldn't be much older than fourteen opens the door. Almost lazily, his gaze roams over me.
I try to peek around him. "Is this Felipe's room?"
I take his stepping aside as confirmation and eagerly cross the threshold. When he closes the door behind me, I spin around, my brows knitting together. I expected him to leave to give Felipe and me some privacy.
"Where's Felipe?"
In response, he turns the key in its lock.
I take a step back. "I asked where Felipe is?" My voice has risen slightly. My gaze flicks to the windows but like all the other ones in the compound, bars block a possible escape.
"Felipeno vendrá." He points to his chest. "Soy Charo."
"I don't understand. I want to know where Felipe is."
He chuckles. "Felipe—you—present."
Present? What present? I have no clue what he's talking about.
Step by step, I retreat whenever he edges forward until my back hits a wall. The fringe of his grown-out bangs keeps falling into his almost black eyes. When he swipes a few strands away, the indifference in them chills every fiber in my body.
Without warning, he lunges forward, his lips pressing down on my mouth hard. I'm trapped between the wall and his rock-hard body. My pounding fists on his back are ignored, my screams muffled by his mouth. He tears at the strap of my dress and the fabric rips. When his hand slips inside my bra, I bite down hard on his bottom lip. That finally gets him to stop.
"PUTA!"
His arm rises so fast that I don't even register the slap until a sting spreads down my cheek. A metallic taste floods my mouth. I run my fingers over my lips; they are covered with crimson red blood. When I leap for the door, he gets hold of a handful of my hair, tossing me on the bed with so much force that my breath is stalled in my chest. His angry finger stops not even an inch from my nose.
"Note muevas." As he glares at me, his pupils are no longer distinguishable from his irises.
I stare back in paralyzing fear, chills running up and down my spine. If I don't do what he wants, he'll probably kill me. The mattress bends under his weight and I roll into a ball with a whimper. Dizziness overcomes me and the swooshing in my ears turns into a raging river.
His voice softens as he strokes my back. "No hagas esto difícil."
Turmoil eats away at my substance like a tornado, destroying everything in its path. Hope, joy, trust—all sucked out of me in a matter of seconds. He tries to straighten my legs, but I hug my knees so tightly that he has loosens my grip by bending my fingers backward. As he forces me on my back, his lustful eyes burn hot on my skin. It takes all my effort not to puke.
Pleading words form on my tongue, but no sound escapes. Tears fall by the buckets. I will lose my virginity to him. That there's is nothing I can do to fight him hurts like a blade that slices through the layers of my soul. As he leans over me, his lips hover dangerously close to my mouth, but I manage to flip on my side and face away from him to avoid another kiss.
This time, he rolls me on my back more forcefully. "NO!" His finger wiggles in front of my face, the anger spilling out of him. He treats me like an ill-behaved dog. As his eyes harden, I can't help but shudder. He'll turn even more violent if I make a wrong move.
He slips his hand under my torn dress and teasingly tugs at the lace of my panties. Crippled by fear, I let him caress me, my stomach almost turning with every stroke over my bare skin. When he drops his pants and exposes himself, I flip onto my stomach and bury my face into the pillow. Seizing a handful of my hair, he forces my head in the direction of his lower body. Luckily, the tears blur my vision. This is it. I can't fight him.
The thump of my racing heart almost drowns out the bang of the door bursting open. Through my tears, I find two silhouettes towering in the doorframe. Loud shouts bounce off the walls; I blink a few times until the scene in front of me comes into focus. Miguel is standing in the middle of the room, gesticulating widely with his arms, while Felipe is crouched in a corner, resembling a picture of misery. His whole face is covered in blood. Charo has vanished.
When Miguel drops on the bed and pulls me into his arms, I lose it. Sobs shake my body and I weep into his chest. I cry harder than ever before.
"Shhh, shhh, I'm here now. I swear no one will touch you."
He wraps his arms tighter around me, but I can't stop crying. My body instinctively snuggles against him, though my mind screams for him to leave me alone. The need for his protective embrace prevails in the end. If it weren't for him, I would've lost my innocence. My sobs are only interrupted by hiccups. He strokes my hair and mumbles soft reassurances. His "shhh"s are balm for my soul.
As I weep, he gently rocks me; I'm almost like a little girl again, being comforted by my dad after falling off my bike. Back then, my knees were scraped; today, a piece of my heart has been sliced away. Tonight's horrors won't heal as easily as those cuts.
When the tears finally dry up, Miguel strokes my back. "Let's get you out of here."
Aftershocks tremble through my body as I try to stand and my knees buckle under the curious stares of the people in the doorway. I lean into Miguel; he understands me without words. Spooning me protectively into his arms, he carries me off. I hide my burning face in his chest.
We pass the stairwell that leads up to my dorm room. "Where are you taking me?"
"The doctor." He huffs, letting out a short Spanish curse. "I want to make sure there isn't a scratch on you." His even heartbeat draws me in. In that moment, he could've carried me to the end of the world and I wouldn't have complained.
The doctor's office is in the basement and Miguel pounds on the door to get his attention. The guy is maybe a few years older than him and salutes.
"Comandante, qué le pasa? Está herida?" His voice oozes with curiosity. Having Miguel show up on his doorstep with a girl in his arms must not be an everyday occurrence.
Miguel mumbles something that makes the doctor jump aside. Miguel pushes past him and places me on the examination bed with utmost caution. Our fingers intertwine and he gives my hand an encouraging squeeze.
"Don't be scared. He's just gonna check you out. He speaks English, so you can tell him where it hurts."
Other than my bruised soul and busted lip, there isn't really anything wrong with me. I still allow the doctor to check out my head where Charo grabbed me by the hair. It's tender to the touch. When the doctor presses gently against my skull, I hiss. Miguel stares at me with a clenched jaw, his fists balled so tightly that his knuckles are white.
"She is fine," the doctor confirms. "I suggest a painkiller and a mild sedative, so she can get some rest."
"Is that okay with you?"
I appreciate that he didn't just make the decision for me.
"Yes." I get sucked in by his intense gaze, the world around me turning fuzzy. "Thanks, Miguel. For everything." I clutch my hand over my mouth to keep in a sob. "If you hadn't been there . . ."
"Hey, it's okay." He envelops me in his arms. "I swear I won't let anything happen to you."
I sniffle. "I want to go home."
"Of course. I'll make the arrangements as soon as the airline opens up in the morning."
"Thank you."
"And I'll make Felipe pay for what he did. I promise this will be a lesson he'll never forget. He should've never given you to Charo."
"I don't understand."
His forehead wrinkles. "It was Felipe's idea that you should spend the night with Charo."
So that's what Charo meant by present. "But why would he do that?"
"I have no idea. Felipe isn't always right in the head."
"I'm scared to be alone right now. What if he comes back?"
Miguel lets out a small laugh. "Don't worry, he won't bother you again. Ever. You will never have to talk to him again." He forces my chin up and gazes deep into my eyes. "But if it makes you feel better, I'll put two guards in front of your room."
"Yes, I would like that."
The doctor wipes my upper arm with an antiseptic and I squeeze my eyes shut as soon as the syringe comes into view. I've always hated needles. Miguel keeps stroking my back, reassuring me that everything will be fine. Though I'm still shaken up, his presence is comforting.
"She is all set." The doctor takes off his sterile gloves and gives me a small smile. "You should lie down. The medication will make you sleepy."
When I stand, Miguel's arm supports me. "I can carry you again."
Though I wouldn't mind, sudden embarrassment and apprehension takes over. I'm not a little child. "No, that's fine. I can walk."
"Okay."
His arm stays around my waist the entire way back to my dorm room. In hindsight, it's a good thing. My head starts to swim and exhaustion hits me like a brick; I cross the threshold and fall onto my bed. As Miguel tucks me in, my eyelids are so heavy that I can barely keep them open.
He pulls up a chair next to the bed and takes my hand. "If you want, I'll wait until you're asleep."
Being alone in the dark is daunting. "Please don't let anyone come in here."
"I won't. Bettina and Raine will get another room until I can get you home."
When he starts to sing, a smile curls my lips. His soft words suck the last bit of edginess from the depths of my bones. My eyelids flutter; the terrible memory of Charo is not as bad anymore. Miguel will watch over me until I can go home, and then I only want to forget that this trip ever happened.
~~~~
© Sal Mason 2017
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