Mabel Shot Part 3

“Say something, that’s the fun of the game, to try your luck, read each other's souls, like Melissa used to call it.” She winks at me. “Go on, you start!”
I smile and close my eyes, having no idea what to ask Yelena.
“You’ve always been a self-assured woman…” I venture, opening one eyelid to glance at her. “Who’s never been influenced by a man…”
I flinch as the back of my hand burns from a strong slap from Yelena.
“Lie! It took me a long time to break free from the shackles my parents placed on me.” She laughs and shakes her head. “They were fascist bastards who would have burned my daughter alive if they were still alive.”
“Wow!” I say, shocked by all the information she just revealed.
“My turn.”
“Okay, go ahead!” I sigh and relax my shoulders.
“Did you feel lonely in your childhood? Did you like to please people so they wouldn’t notice you? Did you prefer to be alone rather than surrounded by others?” When she starts to speak, I feel captured by her voice. Her expression changes, becoming serious, as if she’s reading a book before her, and she no longer resembles the smiling woman who welcomed me here. “You probably were afraid of the dark, which is why you think it’s late and need to go home. I’m almost sure you always sleep with some light on near you; waking up in the dark frightens you.”
I unclasp my fingers and hold the drink bottle, bringing it slowly to my mouth, looking at her, returning my fingers to their previous position. My face dips, and I feel a sting on the back of my hand as she slaps me again.
“Your mother was absent, hence the desire to please others. I assume that during puberty, you remained the same as in childhood—quiet and shy. Always curious, you liked to learn. You’re intelligent but preferred to hide it because if they thought you were dumb, they wouldn’t be angry with you. But you didn’t receive empathy; only coldness. The way you sit curled up, always retracting, with your fingers at some point or another smoothing your thighs or squeezing, tells me you had a strict upbringing, by someone authoritarian.”
I raise the bottle again and take a drink, feeling the liquid tear down my throat, not knowing if the agony growing inside me is from drinking so much on an empty stomach or from the way she’s recounting my entire life in front of me. When my fingers are clasped together again, another slap strikes my hand.
“It wasn’t your father; I’m almost sure it was your mother. She demanded so much from you that even today, you follow her upbringing. Hair neatly styled, nails done, and a soft voice, seeking perfection. Your colorless clothes covering every part of your body are not just because of the cold or the marks Czar left on you.”
Her head tilts to the side, and she looks at me intensely, making me feel as though she’s looking into my soul.
“But it’s because you don’t like to draw attention. You felt uncomfortable around me when I asked you to take off your clothes and lie on the bed, which makes me believe that the mother figure scrutinized you closely; she demanded that of you—always be ready, always prepared…”
I don’t understand at what moment she has me feeling completely induced to relive the past, as if she were beside me through every day that followed along with Alekessandra. I drink again, and a stronger slap than the previous one hits me, making me hunch my shoulders.
“She raised you trapped, closed off, unable to have contact with anyone. That would leave you chained solely to her orders, even with something inside you wanting to rebel. But you silenced them; you didn’t want her to be angry, because when she was angry, she punished you.”
“Please…” I say softly, closing my eyes, feeling the tears trickling down my face slowly.
“Drink!” Yelena orders me, holding out the vodka bottle.
My fingers tremble as I grasp the bottle and slowly tip it into my mouth, returning it to its corner when I finish drinking. I close my eyes, and another slap lands on me.
“She didn’t mark you, not with straps or slippers, or anything else that could hurt your body. She used her hands, on your face, I perceive, which is why you always keep your gaze low and avoid eye contact.” Yelena’s voice is soft yet dangerous, describing my life bit by bit. “She didn’t like you looking at her; she didn’t want you to rebel, which is why she punished you, bending you to her will. How many times a day did she hit you, Mabel? Three? I think more…”
“Five…” I murmur, wishing to forget Alekessandra and everything she did to me.
“Five, five punishments during the day, five slaps on the face every day until there was nothing left of you, until she took everything you had and you were left like a lost cub, without affection. You saw her as a mother for a while, but then she turned into your nightmare, an anguish that made you retract and feel bad just because she was near you, yet you couldn’t distance yourself from her; you weren’t strong enough to face her…”
“No, I didn’t…” I raise my face to Yelena and press my mouth as I cry.
Alekessandra never saw me; it was as if she looked at me and saw an object without a soul, unworthy of affection or compassion.
“But you managed to escape from her, didn’t you, Mabel? What did you give her? Your soul, your spirit…” Yelena shakes her head and lowers her gaze to my belly. “No, she already had your soul; she had already hurt your spirit. You gave her your innocence, which is why you avoid the word companion.”
I grasp the vodka bottle and tip it into my mouth, breathing heavily. I had given my innocence to Alekessandra as a trade to go to college.
“I wanted so much to see the screens up close, the smell of the paint, the world I could only see through books or the window, the paintings that enchanted me…” I lower the bottle, smiling bitterly. “I wanted to see other people my age, know what life was like outside that mansion where I was locked up, so I accepted to trade my virginity with her to go to college. I sold myself… Sold my innocence.”
I lower my face, my shoulders shaking with the force of my sobs as I cry, watching the tears fall on my clasped fingers. But it’s not the stinging slap that Yelena had to give me that I receive. I collapse into tears as soon as her delicate fingers touch my shoulders and pull me to her, embracing me in her arms. It’s the first time in my life someone hugs me like this, maternal.
“Oh, my child, I’m sorry…” She hugs me tighter, and I cry. I feel my soul being torn, remembering everything I wanted to forget.
“I condemned my soul, only I…” I say between sobs, gasping in pain.
Maybe if I hadn’t accepted that disgusting bargain, Nate would never have touched me, and I would never have been deformed in his hands. Yelena hugs me tighter and holds me in her arms as I cry.
“No, my love, it wasn’t!” She kisses the top of my head, letting me hear her crying.
The simple fact that she’s hugging me, sharing her warmth, crying with me, makes me cry twice as much. I don’t know if it was the drink or the way she captivated me that makes me lose control of my emotions. I had never talked about Alekessandra with anyone, not even with the psychologist I saw in New York. Alekessandra was like a forbidden room I had in my mind, where I always kept the door locked. And Yelena, somehow, managed to open that door and snoop inside, holding me up as I crumbled. Her hand caresses my face, her eyes red from crying looking at me gently as the strong wave of tears passes, leaving only low sniffles and a strange relief inside my chest for letting the pain drain a little.
“How did you know…” I ask softly, sniffling, not understanding how she knew so much.
“Because that’s how my mother raised Melissa and me.” She strokes my hair, pushing it behind my ear and giving me a broken smile. “The moment I saw you, the moment my eyes met yours, it was like seeing the past…”
She leans closer, placing a kiss on my forehead and stepping back, raising her hands to me.
“Come, I want to show you something!” I grasp her hand and slowly rise, seeing Sieta’s sad eyes fixed on mine. She gives me a timid smile, as if silently apologizing.