The pun was so absurd that Cecilia couldn't help but wrinkle her nose and grin at it. Ximena was quite a pretty girl, but Cecilia didn't swing that way. Besides, her heart still belonged to Diego Escobar - unless Sebastian Yara became available. Sebastian Yara had permanent veto power over any suitor.
The grin, however, faded when Ximena revealed her reasons for being handcuffed to the bed. It was a grim reminder that they still weren't free. And if the police were going to start locking people up for having difficult attitudes, the fact that the interrogators had repeatedly demanded that Cecilia calm down (which, in and of itself, was not a terribly calming behavior) probably meant that she'd be looking at her own pair of steel bracelets sooner or later.
"Entiendo," she said quietly. "Creo... creo que voy a ir a la cárcel. No me creyeron lo de Mattie. Y... en el auto... tenía un arma en mi bolso. Es un crimen para los inmigrantes como yo. Y eso significa... probablemente, seré... d-deportado."
She swallowed hard, and looked down at her socks. Her shoes had been taken, as evidence. Along with her sweater. In the end, she hadn't been able to hold on to anything but her socks. For all she knew, they were the only physical possessions she had left in the entire world.
"Perdóname. Yo... no pretendo cargarte con mis problemas. Yo solo... necesitaba hablar con alguien. Necesitaba que alguien escuchara. Durante tres años, esta ha sido mi pesadilla. Siempre tengo miedo, siempre tengo miedo de que vengan a por mí, a llevarme de vuelta. Y ahora... está pasando. Me van a llevar, y me van a meter en la cárcel, o me van a tirar de nuevo al otro lado. la frontera. Todo porque tuve la desgracia de ser secuestrada. Si me llevan, yo..." She took a breath, trying to figure out how to say it. "Yo... quiero que alguien sepa que me he ido."
She turned away. "Lo siento."
C-WALK
Geti t because they're CRIPpled lmao hehe| Hospital stuff. It's open!
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Carrion Queen
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"A la cárcel..." she repeated, looking straight up at the ceiling again. Her brain was able to absorb all the information well, but it took an extra half-second to figure out what she wanted to say and how she wanted to say it versus speaking normally.
"Si algunes de nosotros vamos a ir a la cárcel, no creo que vas a estar la primera."
"No maté a nadie, pero no creo que estoy en la mayoridad."
Ximena didn't know what "pesadilla" meant, but the rest of the words around it at least gave context due to the repeated emphasis on fear.
She glanced at Cecilia, who was looking down at her own socks. Ximena was tired and numb. She was tempted to shut down and stop speaking. But pushing people away had never helped in the past, and it wasn't the right thing to do. She pushed forward.
Ximena reached out with her unbound left hand and gripped the tips of Cecilia's three longer fingers.
"Mis abuelos vinieron a esta país, tuvieron un poquito de plata. No se tu situación -- aunque somos primas, supongo. No puedo decir que se que va a pasar o que todo va estar bien, por que no se. Pero si estas mi amiga, te prometo que voy a hacer todo lo que puedo para ti. Porque eso es como estoy con amigos. Podrán cortar todas las floras, pero no podrán detener la primavera."
She squeezed extra hard.
Ximena felt sad suddenly, reminded of the people she couldn't help. In her regular life Ximena was not someone who would go out of her way to help strangers. Maybe if she saw someone in front of her drop something she might try to help. She wouldn't have considered herself a do-gooder or anything. More, she was a person trying to keep her head down just to survive. However, she would move heaven and earth for the people she cared for. It might be that her definition or the boundaries for who was considered to be in that category flexed and expanded somewhat with the situation.
"Te prometo, Cecilia," she said quietly. "Okay?"
"Si algunes de nosotros vamos a ir a la cárcel, no creo que vas a estar la primera."
"No maté a nadie, pero no creo que estoy en la mayoridad."
Ximena didn't know what "pesadilla" meant, but the rest of the words around it at least gave context due to the repeated emphasis on fear.
She glanced at Cecilia, who was looking down at her own socks. Ximena was tired and numb. She was tempted to shut down and stop speaking. But pushing people away had never helped in the past, and it wasn't the right thing to do. She pushed forward.
Ximena reached out with her unbound left hand and gripped the tips of Cecilia's three longer fingers.
"Mis abuelos vinieron a esta país, tuvieron un poquito de plata. No se tu situación -- aunque somos primas, supongo. No puedo decir que se que va a pasar o que todo va estar bien, por que no se. Pero si estas mi amiga, te prometo que voy a hacer todo lo que puedo para ti. Porque eso es como estoy con amigos. Podrán cortar todas las floras, pero no podrán detener la primavera."
She squeezed extra hard.
Ximena felt sad suddenly, reminded of the people she couldn't help. In her regular life Ximena was not someone who would go out of her way to help strangers. Maybe if she saw someone in front of her drop something she might try to help. She wouldn't have considered herself a do-gooder or anything. More, she was a person trying to keep her head down just to survive. However, she would move heaven and earth for the people she cared for. It might be that her definition or the boundaries for who was considered to be in that category flexed and expanded somewhat with the situation.
"Te prometo, Cecilia," she said quietly. "Okay?"
Cecilia remained still while Ximena spoke. The words were kind and encouraging, but realistic nonetheless. It reminded her of her late-night conversations with Mattie, and sent a momentary pang of regret through her heart.
"Entiendo. Muchas gracias," she said softly. The worries and fears in her heart were still gnawing at her, but... at least there would be someone who cared. Someone she could talk to, without having to trip and stumble over the words. It meant more to her than she could express.
"También... gracias por volver por nosotros. Eres muy amable. Yo... no creo que pudiera haber sido tan valiente.." She felt ashamed to admit that last bit. But it was true.
"Pero... eres muy buena persona. Muchas gracias."
She gave Ximena's hand another quick squeeze, and then retreated. As grateful as she was to have - a friend? A fellow survivor? Maybe just someone who understood - it was still hard to force herself to be open with someone. Her mind felt like it had run a marathon and had nothing left to give. She managed a faint, sad smile at Ximena, and then retreated to her corner to be await whatever punishments the dawn might bring.
((Cecilia Moreno continued elsewhere.))
"Entiendo. Muchas gracias," she said softly. The worries and fears in her heart were still gnawing at her, but... at least there would be someone who cared. Someone she could talk to, without having to trip and stumble over the words. It meant more to her than she could express.
"También... gracias por volver por nosotros. Eres muy amable. Yo... no creo que pudiera haber sido tan valiente.." She felt ashamed to admit that last bit. But it was true.
"Pero... eres muy buena persona. Muchas gracias."
She gave Ximena's hand another quick squeeze, and then retreated. As grateful as she was to have - a friend? A fellow survivor? Maybe just someone who understood - it was still hard to force herself to be open with someone. Her mind felt like it had run a marathon and had nothing left to give. She managed a faint, sad smile at Ximena, and then retreated to her corner to be await whatever punishments the dawn might bring.
((Cecilia Moreno continued elsewhere.))
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Carrion Queen
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Cecilia squeezed back and went to return to her bed. Despite her efforts towards poking fun earlier, Ximena was now on the back foot. She blushed and looked away as Cecilia left.
"Mmmmmm..." she creaked uncomfortably. "I don't know about all that," she mumbled.
Ximena took her pillow with her free hand and used it to cover her face.
"I don't know about that," she said, which was barely audible and muffled by the pillow.
She lifted a corner of the pillow just enough to be heard.
"De nada."
((Ximena continued in You Have the Love of the Beast Like a Friend ))
"Mmmmmm..." she creaked uncomfortably. "I don't know about all that," she mumbled.
Ximena took her pillow with her free hand and used it to cover her face.
"I don't know about that," she said, which was barely audible and muffled by the pillow.
She lifted a corner of the pillow just enough to be heard.
"De nada."
((Ximena continued in You Have the Love of the Beast Like a Friend ))