Isabela Part 5
“Your husband is a disgusting monster. And everything I feel for him is contempt. But what I feel for you is worse: it’s hatred, disgust, disappointment,” I yell, fists clenched at my sides, my eyes blazing. The pain that spikes in my stomach feels like stings, fueling my anger and the urge to vomit all over her with the emotions I’m feeling. “You’re my damn mother, and you’re jealous of that sick pedophile, but you feel no pity or compassion for me. You’re still in love with Marcos. And that’s the difference between us: every time he makes his punching bag face, you love him more. I want to throw up when you look at me. And every time he hits me, I wish I could kill him.”
With each word that bursts from my lips, I feel braver. It’s as if the mere act of speaking is bringing more and more arguments to the surface, creating an overwhelming need to throw everything I’ve been holding inside back in her face.
“You’re such a naïve little brat, Isabela! I see the way you look at him...”
“If I’m a naïve brat or anything else, it’s because the bad part of me must have come from you, you disgusting snake!” I accuse, shouting, doubting the neighbors can’t hear us. I lean over her, furious, possessed. I’m trembling with rage, feeling it spread through every atom of my being. “And you want to know something? I kissed that boy a lot today. And I’m going to kiss him more and give him whatever he wants from me, you know why? You and your asshole husband don’t control my body! And if you don’t want me blabbing about all the shit that goes on here, I suggest you don’t try to push me away from him!”
And now everything is clear. I’m only reacting because I feel my mother is a threat to my relationship with Nate. And that unconscious fear is turning me into a lioness.
“Marcos is suspicious and will kill you both if he finds out,” she says, gradually sitting up, holding her head, grimacing in pain.
I know I’m going to hell for wishing she feels more pain than just this. That she feels a spark of what, along with her piece-of-shit husband, makes me suffer.
“And do you care if I die?” I scoff, but a different look crosses her face. Fear only dominates her features for a millisecond, easily overshadowed by her usual mockery. “At least I’ll die happy. I’m living a love, mother, a pure love. Not a contaminated piece of shit like what you have,” I confess, pulling my hair back because I’m so nervous. “I’m so disgusted by you!”
“And I regret giving birth to a filthy whore,” she says, smiling through what seems to be a wave of pain as she holds her head and grimaces. My mother looks at me with such intensity that it’s clear how much she truly loathes me.
“Really?” I let out a hollow laugh, staring at the pathetic figure of Diana. “I’m ashamed to have you as my mother. And let me make this very clear: if your husband abuses me, I will kill him. If you love him, keep that soul of yours out of it, because if Marcos touches my breasts again while thinking I’m asleep, like he did that holiday at the country house, I will stab him in the neck.”
The memories from two weeks ago, of the horrible day I woke up with that creep touching me, when I opened my eyes and felt those filthy, horrid hands squeezing my breasts, flash back like lightning in my mind. They make me nauseous, destroy me, bring me closer to the monster my mother and Marcos are. Now I’m sure that if he tries to touch me again, I will do whatever it takes to protect myself.
When I run and lock myself in my room, dragging a pink drawer dresser behind the door, I release the tears that cleanse my soul. All the words I’ve been holding in my throat finally come out.
Everything I’ve always wanted to say is finally out.
What I have with Nate has made me braver because he’s been working hard to help me learn to defend myself. I feel loved and important, something I haven’t felt in a long time with anyone other than Grandma. The fear of losing this incredible thing I have with the boy I’m head over heels in love with has given me the necessary boost of courage to stand up to my mother, to assert myself. And I won’t let anything take my little guy away from me!
Another certainty I have is this: if that monster of my stepfather tries to violate me one more time, I will go to the ends of the earth to free myself!
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