(Trigger warning: Eating Disorder)
Denise Richard
as:
Arabella Oublié.
❧
If someone had told Arabella that she would be sitting in the interrogation room of the 15th Precinct Police Station —one of the main police stations in the neighbourhood of Hell's Kitchen— shaking, crying, and being the main suspect in a murder case, Arabella wouldn't have believed them for a second a couple months ago. Because a couple months ago, everything had been completely normal.
Arabella had woken up at 07.00 am. Monday morning. Her best friend Raoul and her were moving into their new office that day, and she couldn't be more excited to carry around furniture all day.
Outside the sun was already up, and Arabella squinted slightly as she pulled aside the curtains in her bedroom. Her senior cat Mozart was lazily stretching in a sun ray on her bed waiting for her to go fix his breakfast.
He followed right behind her as she walked to the kitchen, and as always, stopped when he heard her stop. He meowed once and Arabella smoothly got the last can of cat food from the cupboard above her and filled his bowl before she tapped the metal with her nail so Mozart could find it.
Note to self, buy food for the beast.
She had had Mozart for about 12 years and through the 10th his sight gradually got worse and during the 11th he lost his sight completely. Arabella was terrified at first, afraid she'd loose him, but she quickly realised that Mozart adapted quite decently to his new conditions despite being so old. Of course he depended a lot more on Arabella now, but neither of them really minded that as long as Mozart got to live. This however meant that Arabella couldn't leave her home for more than a day or so without bringing him along in a bag, or have her Abuelita or a friend watch him.
"I swear to god Mozart.. if you only eat the top layer of food again, I will send you to Abuelita." Mozart turned his head and let out a slightly offended sound at the mention of the old lady. Arabella's abuelita thought Mozart to be the devil himself, and even went as far as to call the cat Lucifer whenever she addressed or talked about him, so the two clearly didn't get along.
Arabella rolled her eyes.
"I'm kidding, you're a spoiled little brat.. but you're my spoiled little brat." Mozart complained when Arabella picked him up and cuddled him in her arms for a minute before putting him back on the floor. She had to get ready and make breakfast, before she had to go meet the man who had picked up all the old office furniture and driven it to the new apartment.
However, just five minutes after Arabella had walked out of her apartment door, Raoul called and said his fiancée was sick, that he would be at least an hour late, and that Arabella would have to move all of their stuff into their new office, alone.
So there she stood, cursing him in her head, in front of the office building with a furniture loaded truck, and Mozart in her backpack.
The cat had his head sticking out of a hole in the sipper and looked content enough, all things considered.
Arabella knew that her and Raoul had already painted and renovated the office, making it look decently professional, and that she would only have to move in the furniture, but still, she was mildly annoyed.
The first box wasn't so heavy and she even had leftover energy to also carry a plant under her other arm, but the next ones weren't as easy.
The truck driver kindly helped her with the two desks and the couch before he had to get going, but that still left Arabella to carry some shelves, a coffee table, a couple of chairs and a lot of boxes —containing what must have been bricks— all alone.
Even the boxes with portfolios of past photo shoots, paperwork and contracts weighed a lot more than she had expected.
Exhausted, Arabella checked the time on her phone. It had been three hours since she started carrying up boxes and now she was finished.
A satisfied and exhausted smile found the way to her lips and she sighed relieved as she threw herself in an arm chair.
Arabella had yet to move everything around, but she had a feeling that Raoul would definitely want to have a say in the actual interior design, since Arabella —according to Raoul— had no taste for fashion, neither in clothes, or interior design unless it involved a lot of plants.
Arabella took a deep breath, she could still faintly smell the newly painted walls.
A distressed meow pulled her from her thoughts.
"I eh, my friend found this guy stumbling around in our office?" She whipped around to face the person speaking.
"Oh! I'm so sorry! He doesn't usually wander around in places he doesn't know." She apologised. The woman standing in front of her was blonde with a small bit of ginger nuances. She was pretty, Arabella thought as she walked over and took Mozart from her arms.
"It's okay. I thought cats were supposed to be adventurous and curious though?"
"Well, he used to, before he went blind and became old and lazy." The woman chuckled at Mozart as he let out a complaining sound from Arabella's arms.
"I'm Karen. I work across the hall." Karen pointed at the door with a paper-sign attached to it.
'Nelson and Murdock, attorneys at law.'— it read.
Was she Nelson or Murdock? Arabella wondered.
"Oh, uh I'm Arabella, but just call me Ara or Bella, whichever you prefer. This is Mozart." Karen studied Arabella for a second before recognition lit up her face.
"Oh! You're the Arabella! The model, right?! I thought I'd seen your face before! Shouldn't you live in the 'finer' parts of New York? Why would you buy an office here?" Arabella chuckled awkwardly at Karen's assumptions.
"Actually I spent the first 15 years of my life in the US here in Hell's Kitchen. I just moved back here last year from Queens, so that's why I decided that my office should be here too. And it's close to my new apartment so I don't have to get up super early in the morning either which is nice." She wasn't used to being recognised outside of work yet, even though it did happen more often now than in the start.
"Well, I have to go meet my Abuela for lunch." Arabella wrote her number down on a slip of paper and handed it to Karen who smiled at the little note on the back, 'I know a great coffee shop;) That's what office neighbours do right?' which Arabella had added.
"Oh, you're Spanish?" Karen asked noticing Arabella had used the Spanish word for grandmother instead of the English.
"And French. I take it you speak Spanish?"
"A little. It ables us to help out more costumers." Karen smiled. "—well.. Guess I'll see you around?"
"Of course! It was so nice to meet you!" Arabella smiled warmly.
The model had an amazing air around her, Karen thought as she watched the woman leave. She made her feel like they'd known each other for years just by smiling at her.
And the perfume she wore was no doubt her signature smell. A perfume Karen would now instantly connect to Arabella if she smelled it elsewhere. A mixture of rain on a warm summer day, and blooming flowers in early spring.
~
Arabella put down Mozart as soon as she entered her Abuelita's apartment.
"Abuela?" She called out carefully as she pulled the keys out of the door and put them back in her pocket.
The apartment looked shit, to put it mildly, it had been like this ever since Arabella's grandmother had requested for Armand Tully to fix some things in her apartment and he'd sent fake repairmen out instead who thrashed the place and left the older woman without water or electricity for days.
"Ah Bella! So good to see you my Bella!" The small older woman pulled the tall younger woman's head down and kissed her several times before she let go.
Arabella smiled caringly at her grandmother, "I brought you some warm food for lunch. And your downstairs neighbour wanted me to say that you're more than welcome to use her water and stove for cooking and showering since they haven't taken it in her apartment."
"Gracias cariño, you watch for me so well. Your madre would be so proud." The woman took the groceries from Arabella and put them in her kitchen before joining Arabella at the table with two plates and some cutlery.
"Is your landlord Tully still offering you money to leave?" Arabella spoke carefully. She knew her grandmother hated to speak about it with her, since she wanted her to take the money and leave the apartment instead of taking up the fight.
"I'm fighting." Her grandma pulled out a small business card and handed it to Arabella who sighed and just put it in her pocket without looking at it.
"Are they encouraging you to take the money like me? Because they won't find any dirt on either the landlord or the firm trying to buy this place, I've already tried."
"Bella.. I told him no. This is home cariño, I don't leave. The lawyers agree." Arabella looked down, ashamed that she had even tried to start changing her grandmothers mind.
"I'm sorry, I know. I just don't want you to get hurt. Tully's superiors are dangerous men Abuela. Just look at what they did to your apartment."
"Don't worry Bella." But Arabella couldn't help doing just that. The girl loved her grandmother unconditionally, especially since the elder woman was all the family she had left.
"Did you bring al Diablo?" Arabella laughed at her grandmother scrunching up her nose at the mention of the cat.
"Yea, he's probably just scared of you." Her grandmother scoffed at her.
"Scared? Of me? Lucifer fears no one, he is the devil."
"Sure, but he's my devil." Arabella said as she picked Mozart up from the floor as he walked by and kissed his fluffy face.
"Disgusting Lucifer."
"Abuela?!" Her grandmother laughed at her scolding tone. "Alright alright, el es lindo."
After eating with her abuela, Arabella went home. It had been a long day for her, and she couldn't help but want to just lay in her sofa and watch movies till she fell asleep, but the food she had been eating today was nagging at her conscience. The food she had at her grandmothers place had especially been fat, and she ended up eating dessert too when her grandmother had begged her to.
Suddenly thinking about all of it became too much and she ran to the toilet as she felt her stomach protest.
All contents were thrown up, till only bile came out and her muscles ached from exhaustion.
Once again Arabella found herself reduced to a pathetic, weak and shaking rag doll leaning an arm on the toilet seat for support.
Slowly she pushed herself up and took a look in the mirror where she fixed her hair and makeup before brushing her teeth and walking out of the bathroom.
Outside Mozart had been scratching at the door to make her stop, but as usually, she hadn't listened.
Mozart followed her annoyed as he spoke to her, the displeased sounds rolling from his throat.
He even hissed at her as she passed his food bowl, making her realise she'd forgotten to buy cat food.
Arabella groaned, irritated at herself as she picked up her keys from the table and grabbed a random jacket and scarf on her way out of the door.
Arabella decided she would visit the Clinton Church on her way. She'd gone there regularly with her parents as a child, and when they passed, she began going with her grandmother once in a while.
However, she hadn't been there since she moved back from Queens, and she felt the need to bow her head in shame as she reached the the front doors.
"I haven't seen you here in a while my child." The older more raspy voice was easily recognisable though it had been a year or two since she'd heard it last.
Arabella's hand rested doubtfully on the doorhandles, like she had been caught doing something she shouldn't have.
"Father Lantom. Hi. Yea, I've been busy, sorry." Lantom laughed at the younger girl. He'd known her since she was a just a small child, and he'd followed her story ever since her parents died, always keeping her in mind in his prayers.
"Busy? You've been travelling the world with that impressive new career of yours'. Busy is an understatement dear. But that's no excuse for not visiting me.. and your parents." Arabella looked at her feet nodding softly.
"Are they good?"
"I've been laying fresh flowers every other day. How's mrs. Cardenas?" Arabella chuckled. "If Elena heard you she would've smacked you. My Abuela is good, I visited her today. The only problem at the moment is her idiot of a landlord, but she's found some lawyers that are helping her for free, so it should be all right."
"It's good to hear.. Did you need to make a confession?" Arabella thought she saw a glimpse of worry on father Lantom's face, but it was gone as soon as it appeared.
"No, it's just some minor things that have been nagging at my conscience father, nothing serious, I promise." Arabella said reassuringly.
Father Lantom nodded smiling softly, "Alright then, go on. Hopefully I'll see you again soon." A grim thought struck Arabella as she replied. "Of course, thank you father." If only he knew what she'd done, how she'd sinned, and that the only reason she had for coming back was doing those exact same sins again.
Arabella pushed the doors open to reveal, to her relief, an empty church.
She found herself quietly walking to the end where she lit a candle at the alter before sitting down, folding her hands and uttering a quiet prayer.
"Dios te salve, Maria. Llena eres de gracia: El Señor es contigo. Bendita tú eres entre todas las mujeres. Y bendito es el fruto de tu vientre: Jesús. Santa María, Madre de Dios, ruega por nosotros pecadores, ahora y en la hora de nuestra muerte. Amén." Arabella stayed put and looked up watching as her candle flickered with hope.
For long, she felt she'd been lost and there was a fear rooted deep in her soul, that she would never move on with her life. That she would always be that scared little catholic girl who lost her parents way too early and took a wrong, corrupting path that had led her into sinning more than a couple of times now.
Arabella knew that her parents would've been proud that she started her own business with Raoul. But she also knew that some of the choices she'd made along the way would've made them angry, and most definitely disappointed.
Arabella honestly didn't know what was worse.
Throwing up to keep her thin, was a thing that had just happened some day. She'd been rejected by some brand with the message 'you weigh too much' and so she'd gone home and thrown up.
She remembered feeling better after, and she remembered returning a couple weeks later to the same brand and getting the job.
Since then, it had just been a bad habit of sorts.
Arabella would eat, and sometimes she would just throw it up again.
She didn't see a problem with it as she made sure to not do it all the time, but it was still a reason for confession seeing as she was throwing up to 'look good', and vanity is a sin just like it is a sin not to love yourself, since god created you in his image and does love you.
Arabella couldn't help but imagine her mother scolding her, or her father comforting her, both while telling her that she was perfectly fine in the way god had created her.
And in a way she agreed.
It was a very narcissistic way of thinking, but she did truly think that she was beautiful.
Her blue-grey eyes, faint freckles and light brown/blonde-ish hair which she inherited from her father and her tan skin, full lips and cute nose which she inherited from her mother.
"You alright?"
Arabella gasped startled, clasping a hand over her mouth, just to realise that her cheeks were damp with tears.
"Oh. Yea, sorry."
"Care for a tissue?" Arabella carefully took it without turning around to look at the stranger and smiled a smile that didn't quite reach her lips at the gesture. "Thanks. I-I don't usually do this."
"Don't usually do what?" The person didn't seem bothered at all that she kept her head facing the alter as they spoke.
"Cry in churches." Arabella sniffed as she let out a small laugh. "-I was just thinking about my parents.. and I realised, they would've been so disappointed if they saw what I've become." The vague information given was enough for the man to nod his head and give her an understanding and soft smile, but of course Arabella couldn't see that. "They died when you were a child?"
"How did you know?" Arabella asked furrowing her brows. He'd certainly caught her attention now. "-Takes one to know one.."
Arabella sat there quietly for a minute pondering about his words before she turned around to reply. But the words were left unsaid as the only thing behind her was an empty, dark-wooden church bench.
~