Marisol DeJesus: The Bruja (Book 2)

Six months ago…    “Give me twenty dollars.” Marisol didn’t even look up at the deep voice of her uncle.  “I don’t have twenty dollars.” Marisol said without meeting his eyes. She was too busy trying to apply for food stamps.   Angry when her uncle flickered her lights, Marisol looked at Frank pissed, “I. Don’t. Have. Any. Money. I’m. Broke.” She said slowly in case he didn’t hear her. But Frank frowned as he said, “Come on I know you got paid at work today and I need-.”   Not wanting to hear lies about needing gas for his raggedy piece of s**t car, or smokes, Marisol interrupted, “Yeah and the entire three hundred dollars I made, went into buying more s**t for my daughter.  You know, diapers, bottles, that kind of thing.”   Frank was livid now, mostly because he wanted to go smoke a blunt before his wife got home with her nagging.  “Come on kid, I know you got something.” He pressured coming further into the tiny room they’d given her when she’d first moved in ten years ago.   “I don’t have anything Frank.”   Frowning now with a cynical look in his eyes, the white man with his pudgy belly sneered, “I should start charging you rent. You stay here, eat our food, and you don’t contribute s**t. And when we do ask for s**t, all you say is you buying s**t for your baby.  Should of gotten rid of it like we told you.”   Marisol tried not to show Frank’s words bothered her. But he kept hammering them in until he finally stalked out slamming her door behind him. Sitting back trying to fight the stress since she knew it wasn’t good for her, Marisol’s due date was fast approaching.   And she was going to be f****d once her baby came.   “We’re not raising you or that abomination. You should go and talk to that niñito (*little boy) who you laid down with. Because once you have it, no podemos pagarlos a los dos. *we can’t afford you both.” Her Aunt Lila hadn’t minced words as usual when it came down to her or her situation.   Which is why Marisol wasn’t at all sad she was being kicked out in a week. It was sad, but she knew her own family would be poison to her baby.   But she also knew her baby father’s wouldn’t be of any help either, which left her without much options. She’d soon be out of options and if on the streets, at sixteen with a baby, they’d both be in the system. And even worse?   And even with a job, Marisol couldn’t be emancipated. Her aunt would refuse to sign the documents to be spiteful, and her uncle would refuse not wanting to give up his only excuse to not work. As long as the weekly check of 135$ rolled in, her aunt’s sharp, “Did you look for a job?” could still be met with, “No luck yet. But I’m on it muñeca.*doll”  Inhaling afraid, Marisol had applied for housing assistance and had yet to hear back. But she’d hoped the fact she was qualified. She had gotten a job working from home as a customer service representative. It sucked and people yelled at her for s**t she couldn’t fix.   But she did her best and got paid to sound nice while she spit bullshit in people’s ear. Setting up plans and pushing s**t they don’t need down their throats. All while really wishing they’d drop dead.   She was officially becoming inducted in adult-hood. God, how she wished she could return her membership.   Rubbing her swollen belly, Marisol tried to stop stressing. But she couldn’t help it, she knew she’d gotten herself in this mess. And she’d missed her way out a while back.   Even so, when Marisol had even thought about going to the clinic she broke down and couldn’t do it. It wasn’t her babies fault she was being irresponsible and stupid.  And now she had to be strong for the both of them.   Picking up her phone with shaking hands, Marisol furiously typed: Javier, talk to me! I’m going to go into labor soon. Are you going to be there or not!?   And waited almost three hours to here.   Javier: No! LEAVE. ME. THE. f**k. ALONE. PUTA. That ain’t my baby!”   Crying, Marisol wanted to fling the stupid phone at the wall. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t afford a new phone.   And she had to save all the money she had. Because she was doing this alone.   Now….  Marisol sat trembling as Tamia shook her head, “That’s awful Marisol. I’m so sorry.” Marisol shrugged, “I mean I know it takes two to make a baby. But it’s always easier for the men. I don’t know-how, some women can go carrying a baby for months, and not feel an attachment. I mean of course, apart of me convinced myself Javier loved me.”  Rolling her eyes at the naivety of her young thoughts, Marisol admitted, “But I knew deep down he didn’t. And of course, he doesn’t care about her, but that’s his loss.”   Looking over at her daughter still asleep, Marisol whispered, “But she’s the one who’s going to not have a father. And it’s not fair to her, she’s a beautiful little girl. So sweet, and so smart. She deserved a father who loves her, who treats her like a princess and spoils her rotten. He’s depriving her of that, and I will never forgive him for it.”   Brianna held Marisol’s hand, “Like you said honey, HIS lost. I will help you in any way I can to ensure your little girl grows up loved and cared for. She’s going to be perfect in her own little way. She’s very special too.”   Marisol was unsure of how she felt about that. Marisol giving her daughter a supposed it power she herself knew nothing about frightened her.   But then Tamia took her mind off it, by timidly asking, “So what happened next?”   Marisol sighed softly, “I birthed my own daughter.” Both girls stopped and Marisol nodded as she thought about it with some new information in mind, “Yeah...and it was surprisingly easy.”