“Is that what happened? He used you as a—”
“No. He didn’t have to. He already had you,” she interrupted Damien, pausing like she was thinking what to say next. “Fatherland or death, we shall win, right? You see, he doesn’t just want your loyalty, he wants your soul. We’re all prisoners here, it’s why we live this communist life. He gets off on the power. The more you fight him, the harder he will come after you. I would know… it cost my husband his life.”
“Rosarío—”
She stepped toward him, cutting him off again. Placing her hand on his cheek in a loving gesture. Adding, “But I wouldn’t have had the pleasure to help raise you, if the circumstances were different.”
The expression on Damien’s face quickly changed. Suddenly understanding what she implied. Only confusing me even more.
She left him in a daze, walking over to where I stood, crouching down to my level. She smiled with tears in her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Mamita. I know what it’s like to lose your world, when all your family wanted was to give you a better one. You’re safe here from the monster, I promise.”
I nodded, what other choice did I have.
I ate in silence at the kitchen table, overhearing them talk from the living room. Even though they were whispering, I could still hear Damien tell her that he would provide for me. Getting me all the things I needed from clothes, to food, to a tutor. She told him not to worry about any of that now, they would figure it all out in time together.
After devouring my plate of food, I set my dish in the sink, wanting to join them in the living room. When I walked in, my heart sank. Damien was nowhere to be found.
Rosarío was sitting, playing with my baby chicks. She wanted to give me a quick tour around her house, my new home as she called it. Trying to make me more comfortable and at ease with the new situation that was now my life. I barely paid her any attention.
He was gone.
He had left me.
He didn’t even say goodbye.
She ended the tour by showing me where I could sleep, opening the door and turning on the light. It was much bigger than my room back home. A simple space with a twin bed, dresser, and some old paintings on the walls. A floral armchair sat in the far corner near the bed with a knitted throw blanket draped over the back and a little reading table beside it.
“I know it’s not much right now, but you can make it your own. We can go out and get you some girly decorations, a comforter, and some toys to spruce up the space,” she said.
I was at a loss for words, resisting the urge to cry again. I couldn’t believe he’d left me. After all that, he abandoned me. My finger traced an old book with worn pages sitting on the little table.
“This was Damien’s room when he’d stay with me.”
I felt a sudden sense of comfort, learning that this was his room. Soothing the loneliness in my heart.
“I used to read that book to Damien every night at bedtime when he was a boy. Maybe I could read it to you sometime.”
I just gazed at her, nodding. Unable to push through the sadness. She took one last look around before heading to the door. Reminding me that her room was just across the hall and I could come get her if I needed anything, no matter the time. I simply nodded again, exhausted and overwhelmed. Feeling like yet another person had already left my life.
She tightly hugged me, kissing the top of my head, and said goodnight. I took one last look around the room like she had and then went and used the bathroom down the hall, going about my business as if it was any other night. Brushing my teeth with the toothbrush Rosarío had left out for me and washing up. Avoiding the mirror at all costs.
I slightly opened the door to the bathroom when I was done. Peering out into the dark hallway, still unsure of my surroundings, before making my way back to my room. Clutching onto Yuly as hard as I could for comfort. As soon as I stepped inside, I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw him. Immediately wondering where he came from.
Damien.
He was standing in the middle of the room, holding the basket of chicks, waiting for me. I didn’t know what came over me, but I breathed a visible sigh of relief and ran to him. Throwing my arms around his legs as tight as I could, not feeling so alone anymore. I couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. Crying into his jeans, letting go of every last emotion I still had bottled up inside of me.
He was there.
He was really there with me.
I wasn’t imagining it.
His arm wrapped around my shoulders, hugging me back. I squeezed him tighter. Sobbing harder.
“Shhh…Mu?eca. I’m here. Shhh… It’s okay, I’m here.”
In that moment with him, something told me that for the first time in his life…
He didn’t feel so alone anymore either.
Four. Years.
Four fucking years since I faced the brutal reality of my fucked up life. The true meaning of what communism and our government stood for.
Corruption.
Salazar destroyed our nation and completely degenerated the Cuban people. He resented the upper crust who he believed sold their souls to “Yankee capitalists.” Only serving the interests of the rich and oppressing the poor. He loathed everything the United States symbolized. Especially their capitalistic and imperialistic way of life.
Except, Emilio Salazar was an extremely intelligent and charismatic man. He targeted the poor and uneducated first, guaranteeing them free everything. “I wanted what you had, but I didn’t want to work for it,” was his motto. Promising everyone equality was how he triumphed to begin with. Using the fact that the lower-class population was much larger than the middle and higher classes. Salazar knew they wouldn’t know any better, so he took advantage. In their eyes, he was just the modern-day fucking Robin Hood, taking from the rich to give to the poor.
It was all a bunch of bullshit lies.
A fairytale you told a child at night.
The moment he stepped foot into office, all the wealthy, educated professionals fled Cuba. They found refuge in other countries, including the opposing side. The one country Emilio despised so damn much—the United States. Where they could still prosper and live their comfortable lifestyle they worked so hard for. Pretty much telling Salazar to go fuck himself. Fully aware that Cuba would turn to shit, with no social class regime.
Emilio Salazar’s revolution was nothing but a revolution of envy.
His motive for everything stemmed from power. He thrived on control, using it over the less fortunate. In his eyes, everyone was beneath him. At his mercy. Sure, he wanted equality for all, but only if the “all” stayed where they belonged. On their goddamn knees, bowing to him. He was an egomaniac who hated his own people. There were no colors. There were no options. If you weren’t his friend, you were his foe. If you weren’t with him, you were against him.
Traitors, as he called them.
You had to become your own worst enemy in order to survive his hell.
Marching in line.
Following his orders.