"Please, just go, Camilla!" I cried, shaking the tears off.
I was tired already. Too sad to fight.
However, the aggressive tug of my hair was what came next. I yelped, feeling the strands forcefully tearing from my skull.
"You will not tell me what to do, you forgotten princess!" Camilla threatened, pulling my hair like it was a crumpled piece of paper and then shoving me hard on the Terracotta tiles.
I gasped, clutching the ankle my weight landed on. "¡Ay, caramba!" I exclaimed, more in shock than in pain. "Did you really just...?"
But Camilla lunged again. "You will not speak to me that way!" she shrieked, kicking me in the stomach.
"You bitch!" I screamed, damning the consequences. "You think you can just walk all over me? Well, I'm done with it!"
The two of us broke into a furious brawl, our screams echoing through the house. We scratched, we pulled hair, we wrestled on the floor, kicked, and cussed.
The commotion alerted the servants. One minute, I was scratching at Camilla's face, the next Juana, who had rushed into the room, was pulling us a parts
Apparently, she had been followed by other maids and servants. We had created such a huge mess in my room with the scattered clothes, overturned furniture, and tangled hair ribbons—that it looked like a tornado had swept through. The other maids and servants stood in the doorway, watching and whispering.
"Señorita María José! Señorita Camilla!" Juana cried, trying to pull us apart. "What is the meaning of this?"
Camilla yanked her hand off of her. "Don't you dare touch me, you dirty little maid!"
Juana acknowledged Camilla's order with a bow before turning to me María José, mi amor, are you okay? What happened here? Goodness gracious! Look at your face!"
I shook my head. "It was Camilla," I muttered, not meeting Juana's gaze. "She...she just lost control again."
But it was too late. The commotion had reached my father's study. He stormed into the room, his face thunderous.
"What in the name of the Moon Goddess is going on here?!" he roared, his eyes blazing with irritation.
Dad hated it when his daughters weren't being ladylike. He'd always wanted us to behave the way well-trained young ladies would.
Camilla, whose her hair was disheveled and lip was bleeding, quickly broke into a sob. "Father, María José... she attacked me. She was... she was raving mad."
I what?! What a lying bag of sack!
I tried to explain. "Father, it wasn't like that. Camilla... she started it. She was—"
But my father cut me off, his palm held out. "Silence! I will not tolerate such behavior from my daughter! You, of all people, should know your place, María José."
He turned to Camilla, inspecting her fingernails-scraped face. "Are you alright, my dear?"
What? How could he ask Camilla if she was alright when I looked worse? When it was obvious that this was my room and it was her who came to trouble me?
My heart wrenched, stinging like someone had forgotten shattered perfume bottles inside of me.
What about me, Dad? I'm hurt too; the inner child in me wailed.
Camilla, seizing the opportunity, threw herself into my father's arms, sobbing dramatically. "I'm so scared, Father. María José tried to hurt me."
My father's face darkened. "María Jośe. You have disgraced this family in a matter of weeks: You have brought shame upon us and now, you want to go rogue? Go feral? Rabid? Attack your sisters?! You are an Omega, yes, but you are still a De la Vega. And you will behave as such!"
My mouth parted slightly. I wanted to plead my case. To swear on my innocence but my face fell instead. I sagged my shoulders and fixated my eyes on the floor like it could crack open and swallow me…
…Take me home where I belong; anywhere but here.
Dad took my silence as a gesture of guilt.
"You will be punished for this, María José," He declared. "Go on your errand first. And tonight… tonight you will sleep in the stables."
I froze. The stable? He didn't mean the stable where the horses were, did he? The stable.
No, Dad doesn't joke with his horses. They were his victory card in the equestrian games. Must be the pigs' stable.
It was basically an old, dilapidated barn where they kept the pigs. The stench of manure, the constant grunting, the swarms of flies… I couldn't bear the thought of spending a single night there.
"But Father," I pleaded, "the stables? It's… it's for the animals!"
"Precisely! Perhaps a night amongst the animals will teach you some humility."
Please, someone… shoot me already.
Following that, the sound of the door slamming shut echoed in my ears. As Father turned to leave, Camilla turned her head just enough to flash me a smile that was all teeth. A quick flick of her fingers in a victory gesture, like she was reminding me who had won this round.
And somehow, that look made my blood boil more than anything she had said or done.
I rolled my eyes; motherfucker.
As soon as they were gone, Juana stepped forward and shooed the other maids out of the room.
"Vámonos, chicas. Leave Señorita María José alone."
But one of the maids; a petite woman with a scrappy attitude, fired back at Juana, "You can't give us orders, Juana. You're not her personal maid anymore. You've been demoted, just like Señorita María José here."
The words were like bullets in a riffle, and I could feel the impact rising in my chest. I couldn't stand this. It was one thing to be disrespected by my family, but my a maid?
Nah—not by any of them.
I stood up straight, glaring at the maid who'd spoken. "Don't speak to her that way. Juana's still a person. You don't get to disrespect her… or me, like that."
The maid rolled her eyes, but her smirk ended with a half-turned-up lip. "Oh, we're supposed to respect the fallen princess now? That's rich." She looked me over with the same disdain. "You really think you're something special, don't you? Maybe you should go look in the mirror, see what you've become."
My fists clenched at her guts, my nails digging into the palms of my hands. The insults stung, but I couldn't complain, could I? They had no idea what I was really going through.
"Say hi to the pigs for us, Señorita." Another maid chimed in.
And with that, the maid and her friends walked out, their whispers still flying in the air after them. I looked at Juana, and for the first time, I felt something—an overwhelming wave of helplessness.
I hated how things had turned out, how the walls had closed in around me, how even the people I had once thought of as family had turned on me.
I knew I hated being the pampered daughter, but I wanted freedom… not this. This was even worse than being pampered. This was agony.
It seemed I could never get what I really wanted.
Somebody, just shoot me already.