Page 84 of Something Borrowed

The only sign that I’mnotalone in this apartment is the hand that slides food through the slot in the locked door twice a day.

They don’t speak to me. They don’t answer me when I push the slot open from my side and scream into it.

They haven’t acknowledged my existence and I’m wondering if I might have died - and this is hell.

Tailor made to break me down.

I’ve been thinking about my life and how I spent my time. The friends I selected, and why.

Sammy, Bella, and Dante seem like people I knew in some different time line. Or another life perhaps.

My life before Rufino.

The parties, surrounded by so many people who never met the true me - they are just shallow memories compared to the brief time I’ve spent with Rufino.

My friends weren’t real friends. They were there for the VIP tables and endless bottles of alcohol. They were quick to say yes to a night out - but I’ve never had a genuine conversation with any of them. And when I get bored with the crowd I’ve hung out with for a while I replace them. Was I the problem?

Why be angry about the choices that led me to discovering Red? My destiny.

I never connected with my father and I never connected with my friends.

The only person I’ve ever had anything real with - is Rufino.

I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling. It’s the only part of this apartment that has any character. Pale water stains have seeped through the paint in pretty patterns edged with dark lines.

It’s the only imperfection in here.

I stare at it for long enough that it puts me in a trance.

Images of my mother flash through my mind. I never got to meet her, not when I was old enough to remember it, and I only know her through photographs. The very few that my father has shown me.

She was beautiful.

I see myself in her and I can’t count the number of times I’ve wished I could have met her. I also can’t count the amount of times my father snarled at me - telling me I was just like her as though it was an insult. He doesn’t know that the more he told me that the more I becameme- or her. Everything that annoyed him becoming more stressed and defined.

He told me she left because of me. Because she wanted to escape me.

I’ve always known it wasn’t true. In my heart I knew she would never have done that.

Our housekeeper told me the truth when I was about six, confirming what I already believed.

My mother loved me deeply. She had nothing but warmth for me. She would sit for hours, singing while she rocked me on herlap. Her eyes would light up when I laughed. She loved me. No one can take that from me.

But one day, before my first birthday, she disappeared. And my father threatened everyone in the house that if they spoke of her again, he would cut their tongues out.

The day after the housekeeper told me the truth she disappeared too.

If I stare at the water stain long enough, it looks like a serpent, curling over the ceiling, trying to crush the apartment with its long muscular body. I am lying in the snake's belly. Trapped and desperate for air.

The door lock clicks, and I bolt upright on the bed.

My eyes tuned onto the moving handle.

I’m holding my breath. Terrified and excited at the same time. I want to see another human being - but Iwantit to be Rufino.

The door swings open and my father steps into the room.

I let out a heavy sigh.

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