"𝑨𝒓𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒈𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒎𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔 𝒐𝒓 𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝑰 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒍 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒅𝒐?"
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⚠️sᴛɪʟʟ ᴇᴅɪᴛɪɴɢ⚠️
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Haunted by the night when me and my mother were forced away from our daily lives in Mexico...
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I shut the bathroom door behind me with more strength than needed. But I don't care about that right now because all I can focus on is Aldo. There is something seriously wrong with him. Because he is the same man that leaves me alone, after mama's death, for the past five years and now he wants to play the protector role?
I had blamed him multiple times while mourning mama's death, but as the raw pain started to give way to reason, I understood that my mama wasn't only loved by me, but Aldo loved her too. He deserved to deal with her death in his own way. However, that didn't mean I was going to wait for him. I moved on, and he chose to turn his back on me. I didn't blame him, but I moved on because the life I lived couldn't handle indolence. Time had always been running fast in my world.
But right now, his intensive, repetitive knocking on the door behind me as I planted myself on the floor was aching at my conscience, urging me to ignore his initial choice of abandoning me and pay attention to his current pleas for forgiveness coming from behind the door.
"Clarisa, please. Let's talk first, please," Aldo said, never once stopping banging on the door.
"Please go away, Aldo. I told you I need to get this blood off my shit," I replied, still adamant about waiting as long as possible before talking with him.
"Clar, come on, kid. We shouldn't do this for long, so just let me talk to you, por favor," at times I forgot he was Mexican because I never heard him speak anything other than English and Italian to the soldiers.
"Aldo..." I began to speak, uttering his name but quickly quieting down because I had nothing more to say. All that I could say, I had already said a million times in the past ten minutes. "Just come out, let's talk, okay?"
I clicked my tongue, rose to my feet, and flung the door open. I waited until the sound of the door crashing loudly echoed through the entire wing, then I immediately initiated the conversation he sought. "Do I look like a charity box to you, Aldo?" He looked at me, and I could tell without another glance that he was lost for words.
"You and your stupid indecisiveness," I stormed out of the bathroom and headed to a brown leather sofa, planting myself in the middle of it. "Come out, por favor," I brought my hands together in a pleading manner, mirroring his actions from a second ago in a mocking manner. "Then Clarisa comes out and talks, and you suddenly don't want to talk," he walked towards my direction.
"I didn't say—" I stood up and raised my voice at him, causing him to pause in his tracks. "Then answer my fucking question, Aldo," he cursed loudly as he spun around, fisting his hair. Then he turned back to look at me, raising his voice as loud as mine. "That was not a question, Clarisa."
"It wasn't a question that you expected, nor was it a question for which you prepared some lame-ass excuse as an answer," I snapped back, pointing my finger accusingly at him with a much calmer voice this time.
