Page 3 of Psychological War

“Jose, grab her.” Hugo pointed at me. Getting to my feet, Jose's hand gripped my elbow, dragging me across the dirt floor. Mila sat up, eyes pained as she saw me being taken away. I shook my head at her. I didn’t need her trying to defend me. It would just end worse for her. I didn’t need anyone to defend me.

I was taken down the hall to another room, being shoved into a chair. I didn’t fight them as they chained my arms down along with my legs to the side.

“Where is Mario?” Hugo once again yelled at me. I wondered how many times he planned to yell at me about Mario before he realized I wouldn’t talk. No matter what they did, I wouldn’t.

“Oh, this is going to be fun,” Jose muttered to no one. I knew it was going to be bad, taking a deep breath. The last one I knew I was going to get for a while. I turned my focus onto the wall in front of me. I wouldn’t let them break me.

2

Salem

Dadaalwayswokeupearly to feed the animals. He also went to bed late, making sure everyone else was asleep, and that we were all safe. I tried to stay awake with him a lot, but I never made it past ten. It was probably because I always woke up with Dada at four. He always tried to get me to go back to sleep, but I refused. I helped feed most of the animals, and then I passed out, usually in the hay, before Dada carried me into the house. I liked working with Dada. When I woke up on the couch, it was always the smell of breakfast cooking.

“I like the name Toby,” Mama whispered while pouring more pancake mix into the frying pan. I wasn’t a fan of pancakes, but my older sister Emily loved them, and so did my older brother.

“Me too, Mama.” I giggled. I don’t know where I got Toby from, but it was a good name, and I knew it would be perfect for a baby brother. He would be perfect.

“Dada wants me to have a conversation with you. I think you already know this, but you know your father.” Mama flipped the pancakes before turning to me. “You’re not going to be the baby anymore, but I want you to understand that you’ll always be our baby girl,” Mama said. But I already knew this. Mama and Dada loved all their children. Each of us was different, but they loved us. Emily was a brat, but she was the best brat and she never let anyone mess with me. Lee was the same—he never let anyone bully me. He was the best big brother. He taught me how to drive a four-wheeler, and how to drive a stick. Mama and Dada didn’t know that. It was a secret between us.

“I know this, Mama, you love us all.” I smiled. I just couldn’t wait for Toby to be here. I would protect him. No one would bully him, and no one would hurt him.

I jolted awake.

It felt like all was a lie. Toby was hurt. He was hurt really badly, and I couldn’t do anything to protect him or any of them. I wanted to hate myself for not being able to save them. But I was only nine. What nine-year-old could fight back?

I was angry. I was more than angry.

But soon, soon it would be okay. I would make sure it was.

Looking around, Mila laid in a ball in the corner. She was there when they dragged my body back a few hours ago. She hadn’t woken up, and no one bothered her. I didn’t know what they wanted with her. Besides the fact she mentioned Matteo had bought her before her husband saved her.

I watched her sleeping for a while, knowing I looked like a creep. I still didn’t bother to look away. I felt the urge of protectiveness over her, like I knew she wouldn’t fight back if someone came in here for her. I felt as though if I didn’t keep an eye on her, she was going to disappear.

Trying to shift my body to lean on the side that was completely covered in bruises and cuts, I hissed. As soon as Mila shot up, her eyes were wild, flickering around everywhere. Finally settling on me, she winced once she got a good enough look.

“Oh…m-my…” She gasped, jumping to her feet. Taking a few steps forward, she began battling over whether to come closer. Giving her the closest thing to a nod that I could manage, ever so slowly, she inched towards me, finally bending down and sitting next to me. “What’s your name?”

I should have told her a lie, maybe not even given her a name. But I heard myself saying, “Salem.”

“That’s a beautiful name.”

“Thank you.” My voice was rough and raspier than it’d been before.

“What do they want?”

“Information.” I mean, what else would the Cartel want? Information and whores.

“You’re stronger than me. I don’t know if I would be able to handle what they seem to be doing to you. Actually, that’s a lie. I wouldn’t be able to.”

“You’re stronger than you think.” Closing my eyes, I tried my best to focus on breathing slowly. I'm pretty sure a few of my ribs were broken. If not broken, definitely bruised.

“I’m not strong like you.”

“Everyone is strong in their own way, Mila.” My eyes began to grow heavy. “I need to rest my eyes for a moment,” I barely mumbled before my body fell sideways, and I fell asleep.

***

I woke up to Mila running her fingers through my hair. She was humming softly, and though I couldn’t hear the exact song she was singing, it reminded me of Mama. Even with my pounding headache, I listened to her hum song after song.