𝐌𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐨𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐳. Even being born right next to the cruel and sick crime life never changed the charismatic and positive Mia who wanted to help change the messy world she formed part off.
Becoming a nurse at the age of 25 and joining her d...
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"Mia, come on honey, at least get up to have some breakfast or just eat something." My dad knocks on my door softly, trying to get me out of my room for the third time this week.
I don't even know what time it is, maybe around eleven or twelve, the blinds are still fully shut, they have been for the last few days so I can't tell by the light outside. I also haven't gotten out of this room except when strictly necessary. This bed, the flower sheets I have had since I was fourteen, and the fluffy heart pillow my dad bought me for my twelfth birthday have been my only company. I had my phone at first too, I wonder where it is right now.
"I'm not hungry." My reply is the same as the other time he asked me.
"You are barely eating, you are starting to worry me, Mia." The door opens and his voice becomes a lot clearer.
He still doesn't know what happened that day after court. I couldn't get myself to explain, it hurt too much. The moment Carlos left the apartment after simply whispering an "okay" I broke down on the floor. And I stayed there, crying for at least an hour, thinking about everything that had happened. About how everything had changed so fast.
God, I told him that I loved him and his response was that maybe I shouldn't. Who does that? Who says something like that after a love confession? The Carlos I knew, the man I fell in love with would never, that's for sure.
Or maybe he would and I was just too blind to see it, maybe Nathan was right when he said that I didn't really know him, that a man like him would always focus on vengeance first. Maybe my dad was onto something when he said a man like Carlos would only break my heart.
Maybe it's actually all my fault.
"Mia, please, do it for me. I will make you an omelet, something light but you have to get out of this room, eat something, get some air." There's pain in his voice. I can't imagine how much seeing me like this must hurt him, his only daughter. But as much as I wish I could open up so he could help me I can't get myself to do it.
"I wish Mom were here," I whisper what has been going through my head since I woke up this morning. I just can't stop thinking about how my mom was supposed to be here by my side, telling me that everything will be okay and that what I'm feeling now, the heartbreak, it wouldn't last forever. She would hold me while whispering those words and I would believe her.
"I also wish she were here, pequeña." And I know that he means every word. (Little one)
"Could you make me some soup? I think liquids are the only thing I can keep on my stomach." I say at last, not hungry at all but not wanting to worry my dad more than he already is.
"You are still vomiting? Didn't you stop taking those pills a few weeks ago? Maybe we should go to the clinic, you could be dehydrated or something. This isn't normal, Mia."
"I'm fine, I haven't vomited since yesterday morning and I'm drinking water. And yes, it's been like two weeks since I stopped taking them but it fucked up my hormones." I make excuses but I know he is right, this isn't normal at all and I should definitely go to the clinic but if I can barely get out of bed I can't imagine how hard is going to be to gather the strength to go there.
