Chapter 1
BONNIE
ALVAREZ
Underneath the canopy of harsh realities and strong revelations, I silently laid down beside my favorite book with tears in my eyes.
I whimpered when the stranger stood up, pulling his office pants up and just going for his next row of victims. It was just another sunny day in California, another tiny breezes of relaxation and fun. Just what anyone would want for a perfect summer vacation.
Instead, I laid down sobbing out what was left of my dignity as tingles from my very unpleasant experience came in jolts of pain. The delicate color of my blood dripped down my pale wrist and I got transfixed as the blood made a perfect contrast with the glowy sun. I couldn’t feel a thing in my bones and my emotions.
I was a sad excuse for a human. I could barely tolerate my existence, and just now that was evidence enough when I was silently reading and being grabbed and harshly beaten until raped later on.
But everything seemed too pretty for my sad and destructive incident. I was raped in a deserted garden not too far away from my house and blood was oozing out of my wrist.
My blood was smeared on my face as my hair got tangled with grass and my shoes were rattled. I laid in a fetus position hoping that God would save me from this never-ending cycle of twisted circus where I was the laughing target. Always at my worst.
“Somebody call the police right now!” someone hollered and I laughed through my tears as I finally realized that my body was malfunctioned and I had nothing to lose.
How could someone be happy that they got raped and wished to die in the very same spot beside a favorite book and a glowy sun?
I knew that nobody was waiting for me at home, everyone just left and deserted me just like that beautiful garden I got carried away from. My two gay brothers moved to another town and killed themselves together to get their incest forbidden eternity up above and my mom was rotten in jail with barely anyone to take care of her, also dad was a gambler who was held hostage at some Las Vegas bar.
So when you ask me, I would tell you that life was a sad excuse for living when you never had someone to care for your existence.
I have horribly sucked the life out of, horribly beaten and horribly raped. That was new to my bucket of hell but I was fine with it because I was bound to die anyway.
Giggling as the shape of the face that belonged to a man changed colors and structure, or I was too dazed. So I didn’t care but I was fascinated by the ambulance lights and the emerging policemen. Did I seriously think they would accept and care for me? No, they were doing their job but they didn’t have to save me anymore.
Nobody could even save me anymore. It was too late.
Life was one funny stuck up bitch.
My ripped dress was taken off by a very lovely nurse, who also helped me change into something more comfortable. I wasn’t ashamed when she saw my bruises, the dried blood, and my ripped underwear because I believed that my death was near enough. Just a slash of my neck was enough or just a slash of my heart was enough.
Everything was enough for death but not enough for life. That was what my mom used to say before taken away to jail for murdering the child of her longtime crush.
You see, not every family tree was perfect. Mine used to be but Satan would always come in between us and destroy us. He changed my two brothers’ sexuality. He made mom jealous over a silly and stupid crush back in her high school days with a kid with no guilt of his own. Dad got caught in Las Vegas selling death drugs until the men at the bar caught him for not paying his debt. I wondered if I had inherited the same consequences after I had lost my boyfriend to someone who gave him better sex.
Yea, that was the life that nobody saw from my side. All they saw was my mesmerizing oceanic eyes and my luscious curls that dangled to my back. I was not back from reality. No, I was deeply bitten with no chances of resurrection.
What was the worst that could happen to me now?
Curling on the bed as the light still illuminated my dainty face, my bottom lip shivered and my hands were shaken yet there were no emotions. It was like I was already dead but only alive.
I was finding my peace within the destructive thoughts written amongst my skin as my shaky fingertips softly touched my right wrist tracing the dried bloodline that escaped my veins. It was non-existent now but it still existed in my memories or what was left of it.
“Bonnie, you need to eat something,” the nurse’s eyes were puffed up when she gently spoke as sniffles came out of her red nose. I concluded that she was crying for some reason, I just didn’t know why. Everything was better when it was just bottled up and turned to depression. At least for me, it was.
“I don’t want to. It’s better like that.” I lightly whispered as my fragile body was safely embraced with my arms like a cocoon.
“You need to eat, please.” she tried again but it was to no avail. She realized that I was a dead shell of a human. Barely a human.
“I said I don’t want to eat. Leave me alone.” I hollered as the nurse’s surprised eyes looked at my deranged face.
My slender sticks that were meant to be my legs touched the cold floor of the hospital as I neared the terrified nurse.
“Run.”
