The secret lives of Marina

The red and blue lights jolted me back to life and I knew I had to run. Run like I have never before. Run for my life.  I was finally able to wiggle out of the heavy barbed wire, and I finally knew this part of the trip was done. The Crossing was completed. I was in the United States.  I kept running furiously following the sound of the police sirens. That was the sign the crossers gave us: look for the police sirens and meet us there. Apparently, the police officers were also corrupt here and the crossers bribed them so they looked the other way when illegal immigrants landed in the U.S.  With the rest of strength I had I climbed up the hill and walked to where they were. The city lights were painting the skyline far away. I was not happy to be here. Nor relieved. I was numb. From trauma and despair. But I could not dwell on it now. There was no time for feelings.  Not until I saw the guy’s face. He turned around to face me and my feet felt rooted to the ground. He was tall and had a shaved head. His eyes were greenish hazel when the light of his lantern pointed at his face. He looked into my eyes and a small smile played on his lips. I am not sure if he felt my body tense up. He might have read it wrong. But the crooked smile grew bigger and he walked up in my direction. He stopped a few feet away and intensely stared. At my breasts, my torn s**t that showed my bare stomach, and my legs that were showing out of the jeans that were ripped from the barbed wire. I got goosebumps. Not the good kind. But he smiled. My face was impassive. He seemed like a guy who liked to hunt. But I was no prey. I knew this guy was lethal. I was trained to identify types like these. And to fight and kill them if need be.  He stopped one foot away from me and grabbed a strand of my long dark hair that had fallen out of the bun that got messed during the running and wiggling out of the barbed fence.  “I am Nico. What’s your name?” “What name do you have for me.” My voice was hoarse and I tried swallowing the nonexistent saliva. Another strong sign of dehydration.  “Good girl. You will do good here. From now on you are Marina Sanchez. Here’s your papers. Mess it up and I will have you deported immediately. You hear me? His hand was under my chin forcing my eyes to find his.  “Yup.” I wanted to bite his fingers off. I wanted to break his arm and hear him begging for mercy. My dad once said my anger would be the death of me. Since then, we worked together so I could learn to control my temper. That has proven to be extremely hard with men like Nico. “Get in the car.” “Where are we going?” “To your new place.”