Elements

I never left my verisimilitude. The old inside would tear frequently due to the abandonment of keeping it clean. The holes might have been open, but they appeared closed leaving the interior tenebrous. Before last year, experiences have enhanced my reality, but I wore it out. It fell apart; slowly peeling year by year like a banana, exposing the inside on the out making me crazy into the point of silence. Nevertheless, I still meet last year’s events.
***

I exhaled one breath, winced twice, bellowed like a dog continuously, and my river of tears arrived. My grandmother confined me to a chair by rough rope as I squealed when she punched me senselessly. She paused between blows; “I told you-” BAM! “To not-” BAM! “Speak when I spoke!” BAM! BAM! BAM! Extra skin hanged below her chin wiggling its way around with every swing. “Shut up!” she demanded; though as I was silent, she continued to pound on my frail body. My head tilted backward allowing my mind to flow in and out of consciousness as it waited for mercy to come my way. And then the beating stopped. It happened so quickly I didn’t even remember why it began. She unraveled the rope using calm movements. The affected spots pulsated in the expectation that more was going to arrive.

I panted frantically when she gave me a kiss on the forehead so quixotic, I forgot for one second what type of person she was. Then she slapped me; guiding my right cheek and body in the opposite direction. My body shook on the kitchen floor, but ironically, it didn’t ache. When I heard footsteps leave the wooded floor, I sat up desperately feeling my face and body for any indication of abuse. Nothing; not one scratch was my body. As a result, my brown face buried itself into my hands and sobbed its way to sleep on the cold, hardwood floor.
***

You see the mind is a universe. As I slept, I dreamed of anything and everything. I was free from the vast reality of my life. In my universe, I had the freedom to speak, I could have lived long I wanted, laughed at whatever brought humor to me, and eat as much as I wanted to without consequences of my health inheriting any fatal poison. That was why I enjoyed not only sleeping, but the benefits of it. In the last dream I had, I stood in the nude surrounded by alcohol and a jumping crowd.

The music was loud enough for the party to spread to Shanghai, China. While I drank as much Hennessey that was possible, a gentleman, Roshan, leaned on the bar, and captured my eye. When he admired my physique, I screamed into the heavens, “Let me live!” To let him know how I felt, I pulled him into me, and swore to Jehovah I was going to die with Roshan’s soft, endlessly sweet, juicy lips on mine.

We kissed until it was impossible to open our mouths. Roshan and I stared at each other for what seemed like hours. My wandering mind ventured into what he wondered about. Did he wonder about me? Were my lips as enduring as his? Did I have Hennessey breath? Was that even good? The scene changed, we eventually were on the top of a hill sacred to that town, and somehow my clothing reappeared. When we were only inches apart, I said, “You don’t even know who I am.”

“I don’t have to know who you are to know I love you.” He said. As I sipped from the bottle, his palm brushed against my face, moved down to my neck, arms, my hands, and finally my waist. I didn’t think too much of it, and allowed my arms to wrap around his neck. His hands then traveled up with my hot pink blouse traveling with it. Suddenly, my universe turned black, and the sound of wailing echoed in my ear. I wasn’t in my unlimited universe anymore. I was in my reality.
***
I sat up and pulled my black curly hair back into a long pony-tail. I rubbed my eyes and struggled to come to my feet. My knees and ankles were numb from lying in the same position for so long, but they managed to reach common ground. The wailing came from upstairs; I faced the ancient stairs and took every step with caution. With each step, a crack emerged, and it scared the hell out of me to know that one day that was going to collapse. Once upstairs, I crept my way towards the source of the noise. I noticed that Cora, my four-year old girl, who was mulatto with blond-brown curly hair, was rocking her body in the corner of the dark room. Her exhales were shallow, but inevitably loud enough that it was heard in the hallway.

I gasped and ran up to her, “Cora, what’s wrong?” I asked in a panic.

There was no verbal response, only the fear showed in her light blue eyes. “Let me see you.” I said.

She didn’t hesitate as I pulled her long-sleeved shirt up. My thoughts exploded out of my mind, “Oh Jesus Christ,” she had a deep, dark red gash in the middle of her belly, and it was still bleeding profusely, “We need to get you to a…” my mouth hanged open, because I knew more than I knew myself that a hospital was nowhere near that abandoned yellow house. I gulped, gripped her wrists, and looked her in the eye, “Who did this to you?” she didn’t respond, so I crumbled myself into the wall as my eyelids overcrowded with tears. It was one thing to know your child was hurt, but it was the worst to know that you couldn’t help them when they need it. I heard a manly cough come from under the covers on the floor. The stranger sat up, naked and flocculent with a round belly.

“I had some action with her last night.” He said as he rubbed his eyes and handed me a stack of cash. “Here, I cut down the pay ‘cause she was a little reckless and resistant. I had to stab her a bit to keep her still. But it was worth it!” He chuckled, and fell back to sleep to a loud snore session. It echoed, breaking the silence of the house. Horrified, I crept into the closet, grabbed a bat, and raised it above my head ready to strike. He popped his large physique up and twisted my wrists until they cracked, which caused the bat to tumble to the floor. As a late reaction, the noise in my throat came out into something so vociferous, that it ended with a screech. The man pulled me in closer as his cigar breath encircled my head. Every time I tried to struggle away, his grip became tighter and more forceful; just as he was about to unzip my sweater, my grandmother came into the room.

“Hey, are you going to do her?” She asked the man in her scratchy Grenadian accent.

“Of course, how could I not?” He nodded in an eager way, and my clothing felt transparent.

“Well before you do,” my grandmother said in her business voice, “where’s the money from the little one?”

The man tilted his head towards the stack of money he gave me. It laid on the floor, waiting for being used. She bent over and snatched the money as if someone might have taken it before she did. Then, she wobbled over to Cora, picked her up, and practically tossed her out the room. Grandmother scrutinized the cash closely. “Why is it thin?”

“It was hard to keep her still,” the man replied as he grazed his graying beard, “and she wasn’t obedient at all.”

“Okay, I’ll take care of her. This girl here isn’t free,” She warned the man, “and because she’s 16, her price will be higher.” She turned to close the door and then said to me, “You better behave, Sonrietta. We really need the money.” When the door closed, the man began to explore my body.
***
I could not begin to explain what went on in that house. All I could say was that, we were my grandmother’s sex slaves, she used the money for drugs, and treated my daughter and I like vomit on the road. She gave us those nasty looks as if we were the ones doing the wrong things. When my mother had gotten sick five years ago, she couldn’t take care of herself and her family anymore. So, she called my grandmother in, and she took over.

At first, my grandmother had been just like any other. She would cook, clean, give my father and I wise advice, and she treated my mother the best way she could. But as the months went on, money got to size of the thinnest paper. My father started driving into town in the early morning, and wouldn’t come back until late at night because of his overtime jobs. My mother was only getting sicker and sicker to the point where, she just died. My father had come home that night, to find her peacefully dead on the red carpet. The next day, my father didn’t go to work as my grandmother submerged my mother in the ground.

From then on, he became quieter and distant. Then one morning, he went to work and never returned. I was 12 when he left; my grandmother told me we needed to “compromise” to make money. I remembered that first night she pushed me into a room with a 24-year-old man, who was unbearably attractive. Therefore, I didn’t mind when he gently kissed my lips dry, stroked his tongue up along my neck, and squeezed my body to make me scream. That night, I decided I was officially in love.

When I awoke the next morning, he was gone, and a stack of cash the size of Webster’s Dictionary took his place. I cried because I wanted more. So, I asked my grandmother where he went and when he would come back. As she counted the cash, she replied, “Sonrietta, there will be much more where that came from.” Sure, she was right, but that wasn’t what happened. Older men, hairier men, and fat men were rotating in and out of the house. And instead of using the money for food and clothing, she would come home every evening with a new man for me, and immense pounds of drugs. I learned from that experience and more from the men that followed.

Soon, after a few months of that cycle, my belly got larger. I loved those days when I was pregnant; my grandmother treated me as if I were her own daughter. She actually fed me, told me stories about her past, taught me how cope with being pregnant, and how to calm myself well while in labor. Best of all, I wasn't a sex slave for at least seven months. It all worked, and it was clearly worth it. Cora came out with big blue eyes, curly hair, and a great loud scream. She was the most stubborn, but beautiful baby I had ever seen. When Cora was born though, I had to go back to being a sex slave. The horrible part of it all was that, not only was I a sex slave, my daughter had to endure the same thing. It was oppressive to know that my daughter had been a sex slave since the day she turned three and was still going a sex slave as long as she lived in this house.
***
Even though, a man was on top of me crushing my body, all I heard going on outside was her screams of rebellious pain. I couldn't watch her suffer like that anymore. I couldn't suffer like that anymore. I had to get my daughter and me out of there, because I knew we would die old there if we didn't. So, instead of letting the man insert his fat penis in my vagina like usually did, I decided to fight until he surrendered. I began kicking, or trying to kick. Unfortunately, his weight was so large, that I couldn't even see the ceiling above me. I strained my arm to reach the bat I was going to use. Although, simply reaching it was impossible. I wanted to give up because I was already exhausted, but I couldn't. I just couldn't give up on the hope that it was possible to get out. But then again, I couldn’t get out of that one. I had to endure the rest of the night, and then flee with Cora in my arms the next morning because the next morning, we would be gone.

***
I waited patiently that night for him to get done. I was exhausted, and I realized that the man snoring next to me was there for two days. He was a loner. Most guys that came there had a family behind themselves. They actually talked in conversation with me when they would slob on my neck. Yuck. I laid there afraid of what might be on the outside my world. What if I see one of the men I slept with on the street, or what if their wives know who I am? They will all know that I'm a prostitute. Regardless of what people thought of me, I had to get my daughter out of there.

I slowly came to my feet, grabbed the thick stack of cash from the floor, and headed out the room door. Cora usually slept on the couch down stairs, so, I spotted her sleeping calmly. I ran down the stairs to check her wound, and it was wrapped in a Band-Aid. Mentally, I thanked God. I picked her up, and slammed her on my hip. I went into to the kitchen, got a wooden basket from the cabinet, and threw some water, blankets, chips, dry cereal, and juice in it. I checked everything before I walked out the front door. It was dawn, and the sky was a bluish pink, the air was crisp and clean, and I was ready for what would come ahead of me.
***
We lived in a rural area, so there weren't many cars or people alike; nothing, but a dirt road in front of our red fence. I knew where I was going, why I was going, and when I was going to the city, but the problem was that I didn’t how. I had never learned how to drive, how to ride a bike, or how to ride horse. The only thing I ever learned to do was how to walk.

So, I started to do so with my left foot and then my right. For two hours, I walked with Cora on my hip until she got restless, so I allowed her to roam around.

She picked up dandelions from the plain beside us and looked up at me, “Mommy, happy birthday!”

“Ah, thank you Cora,” I pulled her in for hug, “You just made my day.” I put the dandelion behind my ear.

“Where will we be going? Why aren’t we still at grandmas?” her blue eyes twinkled as she looked up confused.

“Well,” I stared down at her and asked a question that was riveting to me, “ we’re going to the city. Would you rather stay at grandma’s or go to the city?” I prayed silently that she would say no.

“No. I hate grandma’s house," she said crossing her arms, "I hate grandma. Yesterday even more because she beat my belly where the big scratch was. The man stabbed me with scissors and she didn’t even kick him out the damn house.” It was ironic how she said this with such tranquility in her little squeaky voice. “So, I would love to leave grandma’s house and never come back. Ever.” she assured herself.

“Watch that language. Where did you get that word from?” I asked her, curiously.

“Grandma.” she said quietly with her eyes on the floor.

“Of course.” That didn’t surprise me. “That’s one the reasons why we left. We’d be damned if we stay there.” I swore under my breath.

After a while, she asked, “What’s the city? And where is it? I’m getting hot and tired.” She collapsed on the dirt road. I thanked God once again that there were trees for shade.

“Okay, we can take a twenty-minute break.” I sat down in the shade as she cuddled with me.

“Wow, this feels better.” She said as she closed her eyes. Before I knew it, she fell asleep.


***
I hadn't realized I shut my eyes closed until I opened them. Everything was a blur until the clear picture formed in my head: a green truck right in front of us with its motor on. I sat up carefully and tried not to wake up Cora. I glanced around for the owner; nothing was in sight but a green truck and some tree bark in the trunk. Getting up, I looked inside the truck. It was clean, and the smell of pine overwhelmed the air inside. The thought of walking all the way to the city came to mind. We’d be walking for hours, maybe even days. I took a glimpse at the sun and squinted. It was too hot out for walking.

“Cora.” I whispered, “Cora.” she shifted her body to the other side. I then whispered louder if that was possible, “Cora!” she woke up stunned, and had dry slob down her chin.

“Huh?” she said squinting so hard they were practically closed.

“Get in this truck.” I waltzed over to her, picked her up and grabbed the basket.

“What are we about to do mommy?” she said, her voice cracked into that half-awake, half-asleep stage.

“I am going to drive you and me to the city.” I put the basket on the truck floor, and strapped her in the seat belt as her eyes continued to decide if she wanted to sleep or stay awake. I got in the driver’s seat, strapped myself in, and stared at all the contraptions. Since I didn’t know how to drive, was going to imply that the wheel was my steering. I put my hands on the wheel and turned it to the left even though it wasn't moving. So, I turned, and turned, until I couldn’t turn anymore.

I got so frustrated that I swore and bumped my head on the ceiling. It caused a phone to fall on the stick shift moving it forward. I jerked the wheel to the right and accidentally pushed my foot on another contraption. The truck just moved forward with such force, I didn’t think I could control the truck while my head forced itself backward. Terrified, I gripped my hands tightly on the wheel, and steered towards the left again. The truck moved to the left so fast that I drove into the fields. By then, I really couldn't control that truck. I kept turning my wheel until I couldn’t, and we were going in circles in the middle of the grass plain. In the midst of all that, Cora stuck her head out of the window. “Yeah, ha, ha, ha!” she laughed as her hair flowed with the harmony of the wind.

“Cora! Put that damn head back in here before it falls out!” I tried to grab her shirt, but I had to keep my hands on the wheel. “Help!” I yelled, “Help!”

A man light enough to be white, and dark enough to be black ran up to the swirling truck, “Take your foot off the gas!” he shouted to the window.

“What’s the gas?” I screamed loud enough for my lungs to run out of air.

“Your foot! Let your foot of that pedal!” his throat struggled in way that I could tell he was a long time smoker.

I did as I was told and took my foot off that pedal, and immediately the car slowed down to a complete stop.

“Mommy, why? I was having fun.” Cora's hair stuck in the air as she turned towards the man and I. Her voice was disappointed when she said, “I could’ve have been the first human to fly.”

I twisted my body so I faced the man, who shook his head. I stepped out of the car and gave him a hug, “Thank you so much. We could’ve died in there.”

Not even a hint of sympathy showed on his wrinkled face. “What you were doing in my truck?”

“I’m sorry I was just trying to-”

He put his hand in my face, “Save it. Here, take a cigarette.”

If he wanted me to save it, why did he ask? I thought. “Um, I don’t drink- I mean, smoke cigarettes.” I said as Cora came twirling around us both.

“Really, why do you smell of smoke then?” He popped one in his mouth, pulled out a lighter, and smoked it calmly.

“My grandmother smokes.” I said as he looked away contemplating my answer. I stared at his features of grey specs of hair on his face, his bald head, a gold tooth, and a tattoo of a snake on his arm, and when he looked my way, I shifted my head to the ground in dismay.

“What’s wrong?” he asked seeming concerned.

“We need a ride to the city.” I focused on his eyes, tried to make my best puppy dog face the way I used to when I was Cora’s age, and played a sad song in my head hoping he heard it too.

“Don’t do that.” He said firmly. Damn, he completely ruined the moment. I thought. “But, I can take you to the city. In fact, I’ll give you a place to stay. Right now, I have a party going on though.”

My heart went 500 miles an hour instantly. “Seriously, you'd do that for us?”

“Yeah, of course I will.” He nodded.

I turned to Cora, stopped her from twirling so she could face me, “We have a ride to the city. So, that means we’ll get there faster!”

“I’m so dizzy.” She said nearly falling on her butt. I picked her up and jumped in the truck. The man was in the driver’s seat, and we drove off in the dirt road.

***
The only image Cora and I envisioned was the possibility of another world outside the one we lived in. That world in the city was overflowing with bright lights, hope, and best of all, the possibility of unlimited opportunity. We wouldn't live a dead life anymore, because that was our new one. I glanced at Cora, who was sitting in my lap with her face glued to the window. For the first time in a long time, she was actually quiet.

“Ya’ll act like ya’ll ain’t ever been to a city before.” The man said making swift turns and occasionally waving at other drivers like he knew the place and where he was going.

“We have never been to a city before. What city is this anyway?” I asked

“My lady, we are in St. Georges, Grenada; the city of celebrations. You know the people here are very courteous to visitors like you. I really believe that...” I tuned him out because I was distracted by the different life we would have there. I’d find myself a decent job, get paid enough to buy a place to stay, put Cora in school, fall in love with a real man, get married, and live happily ever after. I drifted off to into my universe and imagined a better way of living.

“Come on, get up you guys.” The man shook Cora and I awake to dancing music and the smell of seashells. My eyes popped open when my feet didn't touch black tar; instead, it encountered cool, soft, white sand. I tried to intake what surrounded me; people danced, laughed, and drunk in the distance. Cora ran in the crowd and screamed happily, the sky was navy blue dripping its way into the night. “Miss Lady," the man escorted, "this is my home, and my party’s right over there. You can do whatever you want as long as you don’t hog the food.” The man patted me on the back and gave me a friendly smile while he strolled to the crowd. When I made my way to the party scene, I was torn between dancing with the crowd and eating food first. So I decided to endure both.
***
There was no place in my universe where I would have of felt that type of felicity because that felicity was real. There was no need to fall asleep and escape as the crowd and I jumped making continuous beats in the soft, white sand under the full moon. The rhythm of the pounding music influenced my body to galvanize and awaken my fallen spirit. Neon lights brightened the dark sky as the gentle rain cascaded on our skins. Rejuvenated emotions flew freely through my tenacious bones as I maneuvered my way into a spot, waiting to be revealed.
“Did you expect it to rain?” Jo, a new friend I met at that party, practically screamed over the powerful roar of the crowd.
“No, I didn’t! But it feels amazing doesn’t it?” I asked her swaying my body according to the beat. I lifted my head, and stuck my tiny tongue out to taste the glorious rain. “It makes me want to scream, you know?”
“Like it here so far?” Jo asked.
“I’d be damned if I don’t! It smells like childhood here. I haven’t been in a long time.”

“You told me you have a child, how old is she?”

I became frozen. Where was Cora? I asked myself. “Uh, I’ll be right back.” I told Jo and pushed my way out of the crowd into the space outside that scene. “Cora!” I called, “Cora where are you?” I glanced over at the man’s white beach house, I believed at that moment that she was resting inside. Checking my watch, 12:46, I jogged inside the house, and immediately I got an insecure feeling. It was so quiet in there that it hurt my ears because that silence was loud. I knew something was not right; I could sense that in my bones. I searched every room and began to panic. When I reached the guest room, my heart skipped three beats.

“Grandmother?” I was in disbelief. What was she doing here? I wondered.

The man with the wrinkled face and gold tooth came in the room behind me, “Hey, Sonrietta. Like the party so far?” he went over and stood next to my grandmother and relaxed his elbow on her shoulder.

“What’s going on here?” I asked afraid of what could happen next.

“Well,” grandmother started, “first of all, I want you to know that this man standing next to me is your grandfather.”

“My grandfather?” something about him did seem somewhat familiar.

“Yes I am. And your grandmother here has told me what you’ve been doing over the past few years. Running around being a skanky whore, having sex with married men, and children's fathers, and then you force your own daughter to become a sex slave. For money?” he asked as if I was the most disgusting person anyone would meet.

My mouth hanged open unable to close itself. “Are you kidding me?” I glared at grandmother, “Grandfather, did she ever tell you that she needed money, so she forced me and Cora into it. Did she ever tell you, that she killed her own daughter because she wouldn’t live up to being a sex slave? Did she ever tell you any of that?” Enraged, tears rolled down my face at the fact that my grandfather would believe such a thing, and my grandmother to tell such a lie.
So I slapped her; hard enough to leave a red blotch on her face. But she did not even flinch. She just sat in the chair, staring ahead. “Where’s Cora?” I demanded, “WHERE IS SHE?” my body couldn't control the shaking that occurred. I put my hand into a fist, but my grandfather stopped me and pushed me to the ground with such force that I slid backwards shattering a vase.

“Don’t you ever put your hands on my wife again!” He punched me and the yellow house atmosphere appeared all over again, only that time, I was in a white one. I could not let him beat me, so I bit his forearm and he jumped away. I ran into the kitchen, my grandfather struggled after me, and I threw a drawer out; plates shattered everywhere. I grabbed a butcher knife and hesitated before slashing grandfather in the neck. Blood oozed out of his veins as he collapsed on the floor. I knew I was going to regret that later.

The guest room was empty when I came back, and the house was silent again except for the sound of someone in the restroom. I felt like a serial killer, but if I had to do that to get my Cora back, I most definitely would be one. I found a hammer and smashed the door open. Little pink shoes hung above my head. The hammer hit the floor and dented the tile. I covered my mouth, collapsing. Blood dripped from Cora’s mouth as her throat stretched from the rope that lynched her. I did not just cry. I swore, heaved, and bawled in pain. I lost it. I lost the very thing that kept me alive today.

So, when grandmother appeared at the door, grinning like a child, the hammer made its way into my hand, and ended her. Her head cracked open, and she smiled with her eyes rolling to the back of her head, as she slid to the floor, like she longed for that to happen. My soul told me she wanted someone to kill her, just for the fun of it.
I sat back on the floor and thought about the consequences of everything I did. I had nothing to live for. My only purpose of life was to take care of Cora. She was gone and at that moment, the only thing I needed to stay alive for was me. So, I cleaned up my mess; everything except the dead bodies, and dialed the emergency number. As the sirens, surrounded the house, I curled myself up into a ball and traveled into my universe full of love, happiness, and the unlimited element of possibilities. And that is what I lived for.