Page 3 of Sinister Hearts
Rocky stood at five-foot-seven, compared to my five-foot-three frame.
“Oh look, it’s a cutesy reunion of the Ya-Ya’s,” Penelope said sarcastically, as she came around, wiping her hands full of masa on an old rag.
“Chill, Penny, our prima is going through it,” Rocky defended me, then silently mouthed, “Be nice” to Penny.
“I am being so nice it hurts,” she deadpanned back. Penny’s hug suffocated me as she towered over the both of us.
“Theputa sucias(fucking bitches) are back,” Rocky mumbled from the bare hug, making us all chuckle. “Honey, you look thin, estas bien flaca. And you need magnesium, asap!” She crinkled her nose, looking puzzled at Penny.
Penny, wore a designer dress, and twirled me around, making me feel silly in my flared jeans and boots. “Yeah, they call it the divorced diet, I guess.” I was trying not to talk about this, but royally fucked myself.
“Yeah, we heard.” Rocky and Penny side-eyed each other.
“Never liked theputoanyways!” Rocky took a bite of her red tamales.
“Aquí, come.(Here, eat)” Penny handed me a plate of freshly made tamales and Mexican rice as people lined up for their plates along the alleyway.
Birdie was elated helping Ma serve everyone. Maybe being around family was exactly what we needed. I looked at all the homeless people in line for their plates of food and a moment of gratitude shook me. All these people didn’t have a home or a family. I was rich in the most humble and important of ways, and didn’t even realize it until now.
It had been exactly five weeks and two days since I’d been back, and most of those days had been spent in my bed, crying and depressed out of my mind. Maybe, I’m crazy for counting. Maybe, I’m even crazier for leaving. But I knew one thing for certain—I would have been insane to stay. To think, all those years ago I left this small town to marry off way too young, with dreams of making it to the big city. A damn Stepford wife is what I had become. Some may have called me “blessed” or even“lucky”, but nobody knew of the hell I went through. Nobody knew the suffering. For years I tried to ignore it, make it work. But as I got older, the red flags were becoming harder to ignore. If there’s one thing my ma taught me, it was sense, and I had two telling me something about Vadon wasn’t right.
Vadon sent me a box of my belongings that I had left behind. I had begun rummaging through it, looking at my clothes and laughing at all these designer tags, all thisfabric.That’s all it was… materialistic nonsense. I wanted to strangle myself with each piece of clothing I took out, making myself sick with shame.Who the fuck was I?The bottom of the box was flooded with shoes. I started taking them out when memories overtook me. I looked at the expensive heels in complete disgust.
“Open the box.” Vadon stood before me holding a red box with a big silk bow. “They’re Chanel, darling,” he’d said, as he began placing the shoe on my pedicured foot. “Get dressed, we’re going out tonight.” He picked at his collar on his suit jacket and put on his dress shoes.
I dressed enthusiastically for the night, picking a beautiful red dress that accentuated my curves.
“I’m ready!” I sprayed myself with my Dior perfume, hearing Vadon’s heavy footsteps as they passed each staircase before he appeared in the doorway. I stood there, gleaming in my red satin dress waiting for a reaction.
He didn’t say a single word, instead giving me a look of dismay. “You look like a whore. Take the dress off and put something more appropriate on.” With that, he left the room.
I stood there, baffled, embarrassed, and shaken, struggling to stop my tears. I felt filthy, drowning in my self worth. I stood there paralyzed.
That was the first crack in our foundation.
I gazed at the shoe, wanting to torch it. Wanting to torch all of it! But there was something that interrupted my fury from turning into full-blown blind rage. A heel—a black platform, size nine. Except I was a size seven. It was comical what the last straw always was. It was never as simple as finding a shoe not belonging to you, or the words slicing you open as you bled. No, it was the thread of betrayal that intertwined itself in the darkest crevices of your existence. It was that even after all the abuse and torture, in the end all I wanted was to be wanted, even if it was from a cruel man.
My inner child begged to be seen and wanted. Was I so desperate for love that I took it from evil’s hands while I choked on the breadcrumbs that left me starving for more? I felt infuriated with myself and my idiocy. A vast emptiness surrounded me, entrapping me in its sparse teeth. It tried to take and take from me, but there was nothing left. Sadness had become me this last month, yet I felt it evaporate from my being as the stupid box peered at me. No more. I picked myself up from the floor and wiped away the tears that clung to my cheeks as I pulled the heavy box outside.
He had moved on less than a month after I gave this monster all of me—my body, my spirit, my happiness, on a silver fucking platter. I sacrificed my freedom, independence, and my career. All for what? A man who felt so minuscule inside, that he tore me down to feel superior. He was no man. He was a leech, harvesting off my peace and my light. This piece of shit was out gallivanting around with this woman, while I was left with nothing! While my daughter’s whole life was uprooted and turned upside down. Throwing us away like we were nothing!While I sat in Ma’s house and ceased to exist. No doubt this sack of shit put this shoe in there to rub it in my face. A reminder how replaceable I was, how I was nothing.
After putting Birdie to bed, I went unhinged in Ma’s barn. I took out my wedding dress, and all the clothes and shoes, while I drank myself to pure numbness. I listened to Deftones- I watched you change,as I cut my wedding dress to shreds in fury with steak scissors. A scalding purge coursed through me. I had planned to save it for Birdie, but fuck that and fuck him. I wouldn’t dream of placing that curse on her. I dragged the wedding dress outside to the back of the barn and I placed it all in a metal bin, dousing it with gasoline. I grabbed a match, lighting it on fire and watched it engulf in flames.
I stood there, watching it burn. Letting the flames warm my cheeks as they swarmed with tears.Just like my life—a total and complete dumpster fire. I stood there before the blaze like a madwoman, feeling cynical and depraved. I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath, hoping the desert heat would put a fire in my lungs. I wanted to set the world on fucking fire. I wanted him to suffer.
I felt my skin beginning to buzz and heard a ringing in my ears as my vision grew blurry.Clink, clink, clink.I was topless underneath the night sky, intoxicated, and wild. If anyone saw me I’m more than sure they would say I was doing something sacrificial. Shit, maybe I was.
Clink, clink, clink. I focused on the noise, glancing at the barn, and there was Stevie. His black silk body illuminated in the moonlight, his black braided mane flowing down his back. He was watching me with his dark, beady eyes. I walked towards him, whiskey in hand, my boots chucking the rubble aside, and my oversize jean jacket falling off my naked shoulders. Stevie huffed and walked closer as I took a sip.
“Don’t judge me,” I retorted as I hiccuped. Deep down I knew he would never. I put the whiskey bottle down in the dirt and rubbed his snout. “It’s been a long time, boy.” He wagged his braided tail in agreement.
Come to think of it, I hadn’t ridden in years. That awareness torched a hole in my soul, and I felt it burn my insides. I walked back into the barn, and grabbed my brown saddle. I ran my hands over the rough leather. Ma still kept it hung up, exactly where I left it.
Saddling up Stevie, I could see the excitement in his body as he began nodding his head. I grabbed onto the reins as we began prodding around the small fenced area. I rubbed his fury brown snout. “Come on. Faster, boy!” I nudged Stevie’s side with my stirrup, going faster in the arena as we barreled around a bin. Stevie and I danced under the pale moonlight. There was no place my soul craved more.
“Whoa, boy.” I pulled the reins back before getting off my saddle and pet Stevie’s ears, as he nuzzled his snout into my chest. “I missed you too.”
Here I was with my titties out, riding a horse. Laughter escaped me. Real laughter that spread through my whole body. I hadn’t genuinely laughed that hard in so long. I hugged myself in my jacket. “Who needs men when you have whiskey and a horse!” I yelled to the shimmering stars, interrupted by a hiccup.
