Chapter 22

A little girl was under the water of her bathtub, while the bubbles were coming non-stop from her nostrils.

She wanted to disappear from there. Of that cold white place that she hated so much. She wanted to escape from the bathroom.

The tears that slid down her rosy cheeks were easily lost in the drops of the crystalline liquid in the bathtub, beginning to reach the marble edges and wet the floor.

She hated this place, as well as the effect it had on her. It made her such a vulnerable and fragile person —as if she were made of glass— that she thought she would end up shattering into a thousand pieces if she were to spend one more minute inside those four white walls.

She wanted to get up and leave this place, but some memories struck her brutally. The same again. She again remained in that position looking at the spout of the bathtub without saying a word. She could only cry. She could only tremble. She could only wish that the earth would open up and swallow her forever. But that was never going to happen no matter how much she wanted it.

—I'm sick of this family!

—Don't talk to me like that in front of the baby!

Clash. A blow and a sigh of resignation. She could taste how salty her cry was right then and there.

—I talk to you like the damn thing hits me! I want the fucking divorce!

—Well, you will have it, asshole! Never get close to my family again!

The screams were so real that Elena believed —fearfully— that this horrible fight was breaking out in the kitchen. Again.

It was not that way, however.

The reality was that the mother of that little child was in the kitchen, preparing a delicious dinner for her and her beloved daughter.

Her father was not currently home and her mother was not in a corner of the room crying inconsolably. But the girl was with her head submerged in her thoughts —and in the water— that she did not notice that this was all a fantasy.

Her small hands went to her ears and she squeezed hard. She didn't want to hear that discussion again. Silence in the bathroom reigned later. A few minutes passed, in which no noise was heard. Or at least it was that way until she heard a loud laugh coming from the mirror.

—Haven't you gotten over it? —Her reflection scoffed.

—Shut up. I don't want to talk to you right now. —Answered the minor. —Get out!

—No? Well, hold on, Elena. This is my home and this —she pointed to the bathroom— is my empire. Here you do what I say. I'm the one in charge here, you idiot! —She roared. —Soon yours will be mine forever, so get the idea and grow up, you little shit.

And then, she disappeared.

Elena seemed not to understand. Her chest began to ache excessively —a sign of sadness— and she began to cry more. What had a girl like her done to be treated so ruthlessly? She needed a hug from her mother. Only the power of a hug would save her from that torment and she would return the peace she needed.

Or maybe the problem was that there was no salvation for her. She was broke since she was born. Completely ruined. Although Elena did not know that.

[...]

❝Sometimes it's better not to say things and drop the bomb when you least expect it, right? ❞