Page 19 of I Survived and will rise again

As I look into his eyes, I feel a deep sense of connection and an unbreakable bond. We understand each other on a level that goes beyond surface-level understanding. Without a doubt, whatever lies ahead, we will stand by each other, no matter what.

And now, I'm feeling apprehensive about asking the question that will most likely be difficult for him. Jo doesn’t give two fucks about himself, but when it comes to those he loves, he will walk through fire for them. He focuses on other people's problems rather than facing and confronting his own struggles.

Jo reminds me of a tiny fish lost in the ocean. The water currents are too strong to handle, causing him to swim aimlessly in various directions. He darts around erratically, trying to find a safe place, but the deeper he swims, the more he gets lost in the darkness. He'd rather take his chances being adrift in the vastness of the open sea than being caught in a net and dragged to the surface to confront his inner demons. Regardless, I need to know what actions I can take to help him find peace.

"Jo, I know you've been through a lot. Are you going to see someone?" I ask him, hoping to offer my support in any way I can.

Jo's eyes narrow, his expression guarded. "Are you?" he asks, his tone laced with suspicion.

I lean back in my chair and flash him a good-natured grin. "Touché," I concede.

The tension between us eases, and we both let out a small chuckle.

"But yeah, I'm supposed to meet with the therapist tomorrow," he informs me.

I nod in understanding. "How's Elisa?" I ask.

Jo lets out a deep sigh, his hand rubbing over his buzz cut. "I don’t know," he replies.

The thought of what she must have endured must be too much for Jo. I can only imagine the depth of her pain and the strength she must summon to face each day. My hope is that she will be able to find solace and support to help her overcome the challenges.

CHAPTER 7

Josiah

After Javi left my room, he immediately approached the nurses' desk to request more information about Elisa's condition. The nurses informed him that Elisa hasn’t been discharged yet.

Ineedto see her.

I need to confirm that she is real and not a mere hallucination, not my disorder fucking with my head. It wouldn't be the first time I've seen shit that wasn't there.

I don’t remember much from when I was taken. But when I came to, I remember the assholes forcing meds through me. At first, I struggled against them when they shoved the pills down my throat, thinking it was some hallucinogenic because the moment I saw Elisa bringing me water, I about lost my shit.

Elisa didn't look like the girl I fell in love with. She looked lost and broken, her shoulders slumped as if carrying a heavy weight. Her face was no longer the same round shape I was familiar with. Instead, it appeared thinner, like she had been without food for days. Her once beautiful, long, wavy, strands of brown hair now seemed weak and lifeless, almost like straw. I hesitated to run my fingers through it, fearing it would fall out in clumps.Even her plump lips, which I used to love to kiss and suck, were now dry and chapped.

Every day, her eyes were full of regret. The skin around them crinkled like paper shriveling up, revealing the pain that she had been carrying for so long. As the days went on, I couldn't help but notice how dramatically her body had changed. The curves that once made her so beautiful were replaced by a frail and fragile figure. It was as if the life had been sucked out of her, leaving behind only a shell of her former self. My blood boiled with anger at seeing what her brothers had done to her.

They kept me alive as punishment and to fuck with my head. She would plead with her brothers to let me go. They responded with a whip. I can still hear the way it connected with her skin and the screams that came out of her little body. It was as if she was being eaten alive. I cried like a little girl every time they hurt her. I tried to free myself from the chains, but there was nothing I could do but listen to them torment her. I wanted to rip their spines out and give each one of them a slow and torturous death. When I hadn’t seen her for a few days, I feared they had killed her. It tore me the fuck up, not knowing until days later when she would bring me water and food that she was still alive.

The guards’ constant presence made it difficult for us to talk. I didn't want to take any chances that could compromise her safety. Our communication was limited to a few glances, and at one point, she mouthed, “I love you” and “I'm sorry.”

Fuck it.

I gingerly slide my legs off the edge of the bed, bracing myself for the inevitable jolt of pain that shoots through my body. Every breath and movement hurts like a bitch. I'm grateful for Mom bringing regular clothes—a soft pair of sweats and a loose-fitting T-shirt—so I don’t have to wear the scratchy hospital gown. The familiarity of my clothes is a small comfort, a reminder of the life that awaits me outside these sterile walls.

I reach for the pole and drag it along, taking one slow, cautious step after another. Finally, I reach the door and step out into the hallway.

Javi said Elisa’s room is on the floor above mine. I head toward the elevator, pressing the up button. The doors slide open, and I walk inside, eager to see my girl. As I enter, my metal pole gets stuck between the door and the floor. I try to pull it out, but it’s a stubborn little fucker. “Maldita sea.” I clench my teeth as I yank it out of the crack. When I look up, I see a male nurse watching me.

“Couldn’t help me, fucker?” I glare at him.

I swiftly turn my back on him, not giving him a chance to respond. I step into the elevator, and just as the doors are about to close, a nurse calls out my name. It’s Abby, the primary nurse who has looked after us. I turn my head and notice the scowl on her pretty face, her arms over her chest, ready to rip off my junk. I can’t help but smirk as the doors glide closed, leaving the disgruntled nurse behind.

I shift my weight and press my back against the rough surface of the cab wall, trying to ignore the pain that courses through my arms and legs. As the elevator doors slide open, revealing Elisa's floor, I pause, uncertain about what's to come. Javi told me that Elisa's mother, Consuela, has been the only one to visit her. Elisa's father passed away when she was young, so Consuela raised her alone. Though she never really approved of me, I always believed I was good enough for her daughter. Now, I can't help but feel like I've let Elisa down. Maybe she was right since I failed to protect her when she needed me the most.

As I approach Elisa's room, my heart races, and my palms become sweaty. Elisa's door is slightly open, allowing me to peek inside and make sure she’s alone. I take slow and quiet steps as I enter the room, and my breath catches when I see her tinyfigure lying on the bed with her back facing me. I glance over my shoulder and carefully close the door until it clicks shut.

Dragging my IV pole along with me, I take small and measured steps to avoid startling her. The room is much brighter than mine, almost like it was meant for her. The shades are open, and the bright sun shines, illuminating little dust particles that float in the air. The windowsill has cards, three large vases of flowers and balloons. As I walk closer to see who sent them, I can't help but smile when I recognize the names of some of the senders: Javi and Gabby, Mom and the girls, and Consuela.

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