Isabela Part 4

When the focus returns, I see my mother resembling a cat, clawing, biting, and shouting at her husband. He’s trying to restrain her, but she’s furious. Still, she’s as short and thin as I am. Marcos lifts her as if Diana were a feather and throws her body to the floor. I shudder at the loud groan she lets out, sprawled sideways on the living room carpet.
“It's the second time you’ve raised your hand against me for that little slut!” Then he steps on her body, at the level of her ribs.
“You're hurting her!” my mother moans, curling in pain. “Leave her alone! I’ve asked you this before.”
“I need to keep order in my house!”
“You want to fuck my daughter!” she screams, blood on her lips from the slap he just gave her. “And I’ll kill you if you do.”
“Isabela is a liar! I never tried to touch her!” he snarls the lie. “Don’t you see she’s always trying to come on to me with those short dresses? She even came into the office naked when you weren’t home.”
“Liar!” I scream so loudly that even the farthest neighbors could hear.
I take the opportunity and rush at him, dodging the stabs in my wrist and stomach that make it hard for me to breathe. I throw myself onto his back and mount him, then bite his ear. I bite down so hard that I rip a piece off. I dig my nails into his eyes.
Marcos screams, punches the air, tries to twist his hand and grab my hair. But when I finally pull away from him, with a piece of his earlobe in my mouth, I run to my room. I spit out his disgusting flesh on the way, talking to myself aloud:
“I can take enough beating for all the insane noise in my mind to end...” I whisper as I run, dodging the wave of pain in my ribs, “or make him sleep forever. And then, at least one torment in my life will come to an end.”
I won’t be afraid anymore! I won’t put myself in the victim's place again, even though I never chose to be there. And I don’t care if they see me as a villain, whether at school or when the police find out what I’m going to do. I’ll never be one. I’m fighting against my tormentor. And to protect myself, I might go too far.
I lock the door to my room as soon as I enter. I hear the absurd thuds of the man throwing himself against it. I run and grab Nate's bat, dragging it with difficulty behind me. I’m so hurt, but I need to fight. I’m going to end this!
I position myself behind the door of my room. When I raise the bat above my head, ignoring the ripping pain in my cuts and abdomen, I accept what I am.
I am dirty.
Evil.
And it’s not a fucking choice.
It’s an imposition.
Because I’m freeing myself now, or this man is going to kill me at some point.
When the door of the dimly lit room opens, when the only sliver of light illuminating the space comes from the bathroom, I let the object cut through the air and hit precisely the head of the man who destroyed me, who was ready to rape me while I lay unconscious after the beating he was going to give me.
A hollow sound reverberates through the walls. He falls. And it’s like the fall of Goliath. I don’t feel fear. On the contrary, a dense wave of adrenaline courses through my body, taking over, silencing the pain of the blows that were tearing me apart. When I look at him, lying face down, with blood gushing from his head and soaking the pink fluffy carpet, I realize I need to make sure that if he lives, he’ll never be able to walk to my room in the middle of the night again. Diana will never be able to leave this man.
I strike his spine once.
I need to make sure he never tries to spy on me in the shower again.
Another blow is delivered to his back, making my arm ache.
And I strike him so many times in the back that he will only walk again if the devil really wants to protect his faithful servant.
I only allow myself to breathe when I’m finally satisfied. I lift my dirty foot, stained with blood and dust, and then I swing it. He remains inert, unconscious. I hope he dies! One less pedophile in the world!
“Didn’t see that coming, did you, you disgusting pervert?” I ask, then I lean down and check the pulse in his neck. His heart keeps beating. “Bad plants don’t break! I bet you’ll stay alive...”
I could go to my mother in the living room, see if she’s okay. But I’m sure she’ll try to take care of him and forgive him after everything. I know she chose to defend me there, but how many times has Diana seen me get beaten and done nothing? How many times has she beaten me as well? And worse: she insulted and hit me when I told her that her husband was harassing me. So, screw my mother too!
I’m hyper. My whole body is in a state of numbness. So alert that my wrists don’t ache, my stomach doesn’t hurt... I feel nothing.
Still dragging the bat, which has now become my lucky charm, I head back to the bathroom. I drop the object on the floor at my feet. With my hand still dirty from the crimson liquid that came from my veins, I release some voice messages from the school group, which keeps receiving messages one after the other.
“Isa is evil...” a girl says.
“That’s bad! To do that to her own boyfriend...” another agrees.
I can almost hear Nate’s voice agreeing. “A dirty one,” he would say if he could. Oh, and what about his bitch of a sister? She would definitely call me a whore.
I finish mixing the dye, watching the substance, which was white, turn salmon, then red. When I slide the dye onto one of my hair strands, I see how ironic it is that the red of the dye is the same color as the blood staining my dress.