The last month of my life has been a hellish nightmare. I’ve been forcefully shoved from one hideout spot to another, all while a group of faceless strangers treat me more like cargo than a human being.
Large stretches of time have been erased from my mind. Until just last week, I was constantly drifting in and out of consciousness, and now it’s finally catching up to me.
I’m as sick as a dog, or at least, I am until I’ve spilled my guts out through my mouth.
I don’t feel so bad after I’ve gotten rid of all the poison. It’s almost peaceful, lying next to the toilet, skin pressed against the cool porcelain, finally with some alone time.
There are no strange men nearby making sure I don’t escape. No one’s putting me out with chloroform or shoving a pill down my throat. Last night, I was brought back to Angel’s old compound and shoved into the same bedroom he kept me in when he first brought me here.
At least, I think it was last night. I don’t know how long I’ve slept for. Time has been almost impossible to keep track of lately.
At least I’m back in Colombia...
But without Angel, it hardly feels like home.
Suddenly, the sound of an unlocking door has me jumping onto my feet. Bad decision. I don’t have the strength to move so quickly and I immediately fall back to the cool bathroom tiles, just barely avoiding smashing my head against the toilet bowl.
I guess I must have screamed or yelped or something, because a worried female voice is suddenly calling my name as little feet scurry towards me.
“Catalina!?” she sounds oddly familiar. “Oh, my poor dear, are you alright?”
Warm little hands brush against my arm. I roll around and see a portly old maid staring down at me. In her eyes is the first bit of kindness I’ve seen in far too long.
“Catalina?” she whispers, gently slapping my cheek.
Dark splotches dance around in my vision before finally clearing. “Lady?”
She smiles and a small sliver of warmth worms its way through my chilled skin. “You remember my name?”
We only met once, but her kindness has stuck with me through everything. It looks like I’m going to have to lean on her again...
But what is she doing here? I thought all of Angel’s people had disappeared?
“What’s happening?” I ask.
Lady sighs. “So much... So many horrible things.”
“Are you alright?”
The old maid rolls her eyes and pats the back of my hand. “Don’t mind me. It’s you who we need to get some food into.”
I reach up from my spot on the floor and flush the toilet. “I don’t know if I need any more food. I’ll probably just throw it up,” I cough. Lady helps me up and together we waddle back into the bedroom.
The warm bed feels like heaven compared to the chill of the bathroom. Strangely, though, my stomach feels fine all of a sudden.
“I brought you some breakfast,” Lady says, patting down my sheets and gesturing over to a tray of soup on the bedside table. My stomach rumbles, but now it’s more from hunger than from sickness. I crawl over to the meal and dive for the bowl, but Lady sticks her hand between me and the food before I can suck it down.
“Slowly!” she demands. “You look like you haven’t had a big meal in far too long. You’ll get sick again if you eat too much too fast.”
I accept her wisdom and sit back in bed as the kindly old maid feeds me the soup with a spoon. My empty belly almost seems to fight being fed, but eventually, everything calms down.
“Thank you,” I say, after the bowl is cleaned dry.
“You just rest up, dear,” Lady says, tidying up my tray to take back to the kitchen.
I don’t want her to leave. I’m in dire need of a warm familiar face right now. “Where are you going?”
“Back to work,” Lady smiles, sympathetically.