Am I Your Queen? REWRITING & EDITING

Chapter Five {EDITING}

In the name of Love

That night, I cried. I paid Alyssa for pet sitting Bella for me. When morning came, my eyes were sore, and my voice was barely heard. Trauma defined my mental state. Never had I ever found me in such a situation; physically confronting others for any reason. Growing up, my parents made sure that I understood the dangers of physical violence; one time, when in third grade, a fellow student broke into a fight with another, Tom and Simone, one of them ended up with a broken rib with the other a fractured tibia. They threw each other on the seats, and the result didn't benefit either. Sad as it may, they brought it on themselves. 'Fighting is for the foolish,' would say my father before adding that, "..humans have evolved from being physical beings to people with the ability to think, decide, and do the right thing.'

Mr. Santos managed to get his hands on me, slapping me in the face, twice, before chasing me away like a bandit. Despite enormous help from Josie who almost pierced Anthony's eye as she tried defending me, I had a swollen face. My left cheek had turned dark, swelling from around the sockets to the jaws. As the sun rays infiltrated my eyes, I felt a sharp pain at the back of my head. Oow!

From how things ended, I wasn't sure if I would be given my salary for the month. Everyone was on high emotions by the time we parted ways with Mr. Santos and his son grudging on me. Were it not for the Englishmen in the restaurant, things would have gone sideways. Memories from the restroom forced my brain to succumb to anxiety; emotions rushing like water on the Mississippi during a rainy season. I could've been hurt! Or worse. The more I thought about the whole situation, my eyes paid for it. Maybe it's for the better.

While I continued to cheer myself up in the most bizarre ways, I remembered I hadn't called my mother. She always got so worried whenever I didn't call after the sunset. As the last born in our family, I was the egg that everyone protected, the fragile sibling whom everyone sought to cheer up and help whenever necessary. They all thought it was a bad idea to live away from home because I was still young, and life is hard. It's the former that I get to understand now.

********

Lying on the bed, I wanted to call my sister. Ever since she gave me the offer for shopping, I hadn't told her about what I went through. We tell each other everything and the urge to update her burnt like a fire inside. I wanted to see her take on the matter. But then, I recalled my mother's request from the previous day. She wanted me to go visit. Following what had happened, I wanted some time alone before interacting with her. I felt like I was too emotionally unstable and I might get into conflict with everyone in the family. More so, the fact that she hated Devin could make her want to swallow me whole; if she knew he was the cause of my unemployment.

Someone had to check up on me because I felt I was losing my mind. With the phone right next to me, my immediate 911 was my sister. She was the sweetest and the most caring.

Once, she said to me that it was her responsibility no matter what I say. Sisters must stick together. The offer from the previous morning was after I insinuated to her that my wardrobe had cobwebs. I didn't want to be seen begging, and she understood I needed clothes. I didn't want to speak about the shopping offer, as much as I would love that, I wanted someone to talk to me.

Thoughts were contending for attention to the point of thinking out loud.

Unfortunately for me, my sister didn't pick up the call.

To console me, I conceded she was busy at work. That's what people do each day and not stay in bed calling model citizens.

With no one in mind, I resulted up calling my mother. I however knew I shouldn't have red eyes when I tell her about losing my job. She would be worried and try to help. It's the helping that always worried me. She has these suggestions that are mom-like and kind of don't relate with me.