My feet move quickly up the road as I head away from the city. Away from my home. The place I grew up in slowly disappears behind me, and I can’t think about anything else but leaving. Even though my eyes tear up, I don’t look back.
I know there’s nothing left for me in the city, there’s no family left because, even if papá is still alive, I wonder how much longer he will be. Unless Victor wants to torture me, to toy with my emotions. I don’t know him well enough, but perhaps he’s someone who enjoys the mental torment, as well as the physical.
Once I reach the outskirts of the city, I breathe a small sigh of relief, but it doesn’t last long when I hear a brawl not far from where I’m hidden in an alleyway. The bars are closing, the men are drunk, and I know I need to get out of here before I become the center of attention.
The darkness holds me in its embrace as I race further up the road and head into the space behind a building. There are a few dirty trash cans and the stench of them turns my stomach.
Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I close my eyes and pray. It’s been a long time since I’ve prayed. Since I’ve asked someone other than my father for help.
My phone vibrates wildly in the pocket of my jeans, and I pull it out before moving further toward the main road that will take me out of the city completely.
“Ola, tito?”
“Have you left?” His voice is low, a rumble that reminds me of just how much trouble I will be in if I’m caught.
He sighs in relief when I tell him, “I am. Almost out of the city.”
“Good. I’ll call you at nine, please be safe.” He hangs up once more, leaving me in the darkness with my vivid imagination and my racing heart. Shoving my phone back into my pocket, I make my way onto the road and head north.
It’s quieter here. With the silence, I have time to think about my life, my future. I’m not sure where I’ll end up, but in a way, I suppose I’ll be safe. All this time I’ve wanted to leave Colombia, and now that I can, I’ve never wanted to stay more, but that’s the sadness holding me in its feral grip, reminding me of all I’ve lost and what I still stand to lose.
The sun is already high by the time I reach the empty road. The small backpack feels heavier than it is. Perhaps it’s the anxiety that’s coiling in my gut or the fear that’s riddling itself through my veins.
Sadness has clouded my mind like a drug tracing its way through me with every mile I get away from where my father is. Deep down, I know he’s still alive. What state he’s in is a mystery, but I doubt Victor would kill him if he wants me to play along with his cat and mouse game.
The loud bass of a sound system vibrates through me when a black SUV pulls up beside me. I don’t stop, I continue my steps through the dust, but the car follows alongside me. The window slides down, and the man inside looks at me, his dark shades covering his eyes, but I can feel the heat of his stare.
“Hola pequeña niña,” he utters in a thick accent that is almost husky with the way his voice sounds when he calls me little girl.
“Yeah?” I respond in English, attempting not to show my origin, even though my lifelong accent is unmistakable.
“¿A dónde vas?” he asks where I’m going, but fear settles in the pit of my stomach at his question. He lifts his sunglasses, peering at me with curiosity, and I’m not sure what to say.
Where am I going?
My gaze flits to the road ahead; there’s nothing in front of me, only deserted shacks. I can’t run, I have no way of getting away from this man in his SUV.
“I’m fine. I don’t need a lift.” I tell him, but I know that’s not what he asked or even said. I stalk my way forward, but he follows. My god, the car is right beside me, and I know I’m caught. This is not some random stranger. This man is going to take me to my fate. I cast a glance along the road, even though there are cars coming toward me, I know that they won’t help if I screamed or pleaded with them for assistance.
Nobody would attempt to anger Victor. And the stranger who’s peering at me with those dark, brooding eyes is here to deliver me to the Devil on a silver platter, and there’s nothing I can do about it.