"The Sweet Escape."
Alejandro.
This girl, she still hasn't called me.
I didn't even think of asking her for her numbers. What will it take for her to give me a call?
Alejandro pondered as he ran his fifth lap on the treadmill.
He had an indoor gym, situated on the second floor of his Mayweather-styled home.
He paused his treadmill to take a sip of his water.
He stared down at his hands.
They'd been on Isis' body.
He closed his eyes and ran a hand over his face.
His skin was glistening with sweat and the nape of his neck was damp.
He suddenly began to overheat.
Not because he was exercising, but because his mind started to wander off into the crevices of Isis' body.
He thought of the feel of Isis' lips against his.
With his eyes still closed, he licked his lips and ran a finger across his bottom lip.
He began to travel down towards his core, as he thought of her breasts.
They sat a bit lower, more natural, less close together, each so perfect and moulded to her form.
He rested his hand on his chest and went down even further, remembering what her sweet mound looked like.
Bare and ready for the taking.
He could've betted that she was already wet.
Fuck...
He caught himself just in time before he reached his stiff rod.
He jumped as his phone rang, startled at the thought of what he was about to do.
Alejandro? Masturbate? To a woman? Never.
Bro, this is the second time you're about to masturbate to Isis. You might as well just do it.
He let that thought resonate as he walked over to where his phone was.
He prayed it was Isis. He really wanted to talk to her.
Oh so now you talk? And how are you praying when you don't believe there's a God?
He slowly put the phone to his ear, mind-boggled by his own thoughts.
Isis.
"Mami, slow down. What are you saying?"
Isis felt a pinch of conviction in her heart but she needed to hear those words again.
Her mother is evil? Well, no shit hey.
"You have to trust me, mi amor. I'm trying to protect you. I was unable to do this same thing for your father but I promised him that I'd take care of you, to the best of my ability. And I'm proud of the young lady you've become. Take this, get out of here and carry on your father's legacy. And make sure your mother knows nothing of this and doesn't see you. It would be best to leave tonight, if you can, as she's aware that you know of her filth."
Isis' father was a phenomenal parent.
The kind that should have had a hundred kids because he was just so darn good at it.
She didn't understand why she was the only child.
But it made sense to her when she thought of how there was probably no love between her father and her mother, enough to have another baby.
Her father had this gift for turning any ordinary event into a teaching point.
Maybe he knew he wasn't going to win his fight so he chose to leave her with as much counsel as he could in the time he had left, or maybe that's just the way he was.
But as Isis stood there and quickly gathered her thoughts and tried to register what her Mami was telling her, she saw the light.
She didn't ask any more further questions or act dumb.
She simply placed the box onto the ground and gave her grandmother one of the most profound embraces she had ever given her.
"I hope to see you again, birdie."
Isis' Mami called her birdie since she was a baby, because Isis never put her arms down.
She always wanted to be lifted up.
She imagined herself as a toddler, running after everyone and anyone who would've cared enough to pick her up.
She smiled into her Mami's shoulder, squeezed her tighter and said, "Thank you so much for taking care of me. For never judging me or pointing out my flaws at every chance you might have had. If I were to make receipts for every good thing you had ever given me, there would be not a tree left standing on earth, nor oil in the ground from which to make ink. And so, in this love that we both have for each other, there is a deep gratitude. A sense that what has been given to me, is sacred and transient, passing in time into the eternal cycles of my generation to come. I love you so much Belvia Giselle Arismendi. You're the best grandmother anyone could ever ask for. I promise to never forget you, to always honour your words, and to make sure I call you every day."
She broke the embrace to look at her grandmother, who was now flooded with tears.
She took her grandmother's aging hands into hers, and kissed them.
She picked up the box from the ground and opened the door, with one more look at her grandmother, she blew her a kiss, which her grandmother pretended to catch.
She smiled, and walked out.
Belvia.
She watched the door as her little grandchild walked out, possibly for good.
She felt weak at the knees and slowly backed up into her bed, and sat down.
Belvia thought of her evil daughter and all of the many atrocities that she had committed.
She hadn't found the time to tell Isis about all of her mother's crimes but she knew that someday, Isis would come to know of it.
She always wanted to give Isis the opportunity to discover things on her own, and decide on how to feel about them because she knew what it was like to have a voice in the background, always telling you what to do and how to feel.
That is the most part of the reason why she always found the time to listen to Isis and never told her how to be a child, a teenager or a young adult.
She believed that allowing children to make their own mistakes, with you as their anchor to fall back on, would bring them closer to you.
Just look at how distant she is with her mother. But that's not her fault either way.
Aisha is a treacherous woman. I cannot believe I gave birth to such a dragon.
Belvia was catholic, and therefore there was already an existing rift between her daughter and herself.
She kept her Mexican roots and honored her ancestors on every 'Day of the Dead'.
This appalled Aisha.
But she had never wanted to get entangled with Aisha's faith because for the most part, she knew that her daughter was an imposter, and that didn't encourage her to attend any of the church services that were being held at the church or to even want to convert to Christianity.
Aisha had punished her own mother for that, by restricting her to the ground level of the house only and had instructed her never to leave the house, especially to attend any of her Catholic masses.
That was also why she had no cellphone.
Another prohibition, by her own daughter.
Inside the box she gave to Isis, was some incriminating evidence of Aisha's crimes. She never exposed her daughter on her own because it was never in her place to do so. Isis was best disposed to do whatever she wished with what she would discover.
It was time, time that Isis found out the truth. Even if she decided not to act on what she'd find, it was still necessary that she knew everything about her mother.
She wiped her tears and prepared to go back to bed, but first she wanted to smoke a cigar and drink a bottle of malt.
It was going to be a long night.
Isis.
Isis had half-ran up the stairs, trying to be as quite as possible and also trying not to drop the wooden box.
It was pretty heavy and it weighed down her petite stature.
As soon as she got into her room and had closed the door behind her, she carefully placed the box in front of the door, ran to her cupboard and started to rip her neatly stacked clothes out.
She started to panic as she whispered to herself.
"Clothes, shoes, hair stuff, makeup, toiletries, books, bomber jackets, uhhhm... Oh yeah!"
She dashed into her bathroom and grabbed her towels.
She would even take her blankets if she could.
She crouched and looked under the bed to see if she had missed anything.
God, I hope I took everything. Well, everything that I NEEED.
With trembling hands and a shortened breath, she scratched through her backpack, looking for Alejandro's card.
She couldn't call Zainab right now because it was too late at night and it wasn't the weekend yet, so she couldn't just rock up at her house.
Zainab's mom would definitely call her mother to check with her, if she had showed up, unannounced.
She found the little black card and darted her eyes where she could see numbers written. She didn't have time to read the whole thing.
She frantically dialed the numbers on the card and almost slapped the phone to her ear.
She was really in a hurry.
"...Alejandro Dominic speaking, and you are?..."
She took a deep breath and then answered, "It's Isis, Alex. I'm in trouble. I need you to please come and get me."
"Isis?" she heard him ask, almost excitedly.
"Tell me where you are, I'll be there in 5 minutes."
"I'm at home Alex. Please hurr.."
Before she could finish her sentence, Alejandro had already dropped the phone on her.
She creased her forehead and wondered if he was even going to come.
Nevertheless, she saved his numbers.
All she could do was pray, while she waited.
She knelt down in front of her bed and prayed silently.
Heavenly father, I believe in Psalm 23.
I confess with my mouth that you are the great shepherd. The one who leads me through the valley of death. Lord, I fear no evil, for you are with me and your rod and your support are my comfor...
Just as she was about to conclude her prayer, her phone rang.
She looked at her screen.
Alejandro.