Santana POV
Something was off. I knew that the minute I walked into the small apartment and didn't smell tequila or vomit in the air. "Ma?" I called out hesitantly as I stepped through the doorway. "In the kitchen" I hear her voice call out. An alarm bell went off in my head. She wasn't slurring her words. I made my way through the small living room past the ancient T.V. and the old battered black couch and entered the even smaller yellow kitchen. Usually the kitchen remined unused throughout the day unless I made myself dinner but today it was lit up with a strong aroma of food cooking. Even the small dusty table was set up with a tablecloth and plates. Several alarm bells went off in my head. My mother never enters the kitchen, much less cook. "Hola Mija" my mother calls. She is standing by the stove cooking rice and some kind of meat, her upper torso turned to me. My brain goes on red alert when I see this. For starters she doesn't have a bottle in her hand. Secondly she actually looks clean with her hair in a bun, her face free of make up, and wearing a long navy blue dress.
I must have been gaping at her for she bursts out laughing. "Santana you look like you've seen La Virgen de Guadalupe!" she says teasingly. I manage to compose my face and give her a small nod. For a moment the kitchen is quiet as I avoided her gaze. "So how was school?" she asks as she turns back to the stove. "Fine" I respond warily as I take a seat at the table. "Good. And your grades? You know you have to keep them up" she said as she covered a pan and took the seat across from me. "My grades are fine" I said with a slight edge to my voice. Since when was mom concerned about my school, nay, my life. "Maybe she's taking a new drug" I mused inside my head. My mother smiled at me warmly as if she had read my mind. I squirmed in my chair, itching to make a run for it. Right when I was about to exuse myself, she clasped her hands around mine, forcing me to remian where I was. "So any cute guys in school?" she asked, smiling unnervingly at me. "Ah..um.. not really' I sputtered, wondering what the hell was going on with her. A sudden image of her sacrificing me to the Devil popped into my head. Damn those late night horror movies. "Don't lie to me! A pretty girl like you is bound to have hundreds of guys on their knees." My mom said, interrupting the grisly images of my butchered body that were dominating my mind. "Ah thanks mom" I say, slightly confused. Doesn't she remember when I came out to her? Nevermind, she was probably too drunk to remember. Suddenly she shots out of her chair "I'm making your favorite," she says as she stirs the rice " fajita." I roll my eyes. That was her favorite not mine. The air is thick with tension as both of us remain quiet. Mom was just about to say something when I decide to cut the crap. "Okay what hell is going on? Did you get a new drug or something?" I say as I make my way to her. She turns to me, her face slightly shocked, "Santana! Can't a mother make dinner for her daughter without getting questioned?" she says. I roll my eyes and cross my arms across my chest "Mom cut the crap, somethings up and you're not telling me." I say frostly. "Watch your language niña! You have to respect your mother and I wont tolerate that attitude" she says sharply, turning her whole body towards me. I give her my best Does-It-Look-Like-I-Give-A-Fuck glare and press my lips into a thin line. My mother asseses my face and clears her throat. "I was going to wait until after we ate dinner to tell you but since you decide to be impatient and rude, I may just not tell you nothing at all" She says firmly. I remian silent, still glaring at her. She clears her throat again "Maybe if you say please, I'll tell you why I am doing this." I sigh annoyed and smack my tongue against my teeth. "Please" I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm. Mother stares at me for a moment then smiles fakely. 'I'll be back" she says and leaves the kitchen.
I groan angrily when she leaves. It better not be a boyfriend or some new clothes. A sudden thought struck me like a cold splash of water. What if she was pregnant? "Shitshitshitshit" I mutter quietly as I begin to pace the kitchen nervously. My mother walks in and, to my intense relief, she's holding a small box. She motions me to sit down and I do. "Okay here it is" she says, pushing the box towards me. 'Is it a fish?" I ask as I pull it closer to me. Mom chuckles "No silly!' "Worth a shot" I mumble as I lift the lid. Inside is most definetly not a fish. There is a huge stack of money held together with a rubber band. The top bill says $100. Involuntarily, I gasped. There had to be at least $2000 in there. My mother starts to giggle."We're not poor anymore mija!" she says as she grabs my hand. I start to laugh with her when a thought popped into my head. "Does this mean we can move?" I ask, hope evident in my voice. The minute those words escaped my mouth, my mothers face fell. "No Santana," she said as she shook her head sadly, "It's actually because of this money that we can't leave." I furrowed my brow in confusion. "What did you sell your soul to the Devil or something?" I asked, reclosing the little box. She smiled weakly "No" she says quietly. She starts tapping her fingers on the table, her eyes avoiding mine. Suspicion clouds my mind "Mom how did you get this money?" I ask upset. "I had to sell something very important to me." she reponds, still avoiding eye contact. I looked at her hands but she still has her rings on. "Did you sell abuelos watch or abuelas jewlery? I ask as I rack my brain for the few pricey things she could have sold that belong to us. "No it wasn"t a material thing, something much more important" mom says, finally meeting my eyes. "What did you sell me?" I say jokingly. Her eyes suddenly fill with tears and realization hits me. She sold me. Me. My own mother sold me.
Several emotions coursed through my body. Confusion, sadness, anger,despair,shock. Then one emotion surpassed all of the others. Rage. I shot up from my chair, barely noticing when I knocked it backwards. "WHO THE FUCK DO YOUY THINK YOU ARE! YOU DON"T OWN ME! NO ONE DOES" I screamed. My mother lowered her face into her hands and began sobbing. When I saw this, something inside me snapped. "I hate you! How could you? I'm your fucking daughter for Christs sake!" I yelled, my heart racing in my chest. Hot tears began spilling down my cheeks but I was too angry to wipe them away. My mother stood up and began to make her way towards me. "No! I..No! I don't want you anywhere near me." I said with my hand raised to keep her away. She stopped and stared at me. "Mija my boss said that this will be good for you. He even promised to take care of-" "Shut up! Your boss is a fucking pimp! All he wants is money and sex!" I shouted, my control to spiral out of control. "Santana, he promised and I trust him." Mom said, her voice sincere. I stared at her in disbelief, not knowing what to say. My entire body was quivering with anger. My mother took this as a good sign and began speaking again. "He said he'll pick you up tomorrow morning and have you trained for the job over the weekend." She said wringing her hands nervously. "Training?TRAINING? Don't you mean RAPE!" I replied, my voice rising again. "This is a good thing santana, this will help us in life." She responded, smiling warmly at me. I gritted my teeth together as she made her way towards me. She cupped my cheek "I did this for us. Because I love you." She whispered. That statement made no fucking sense and I ripped her hand away from my face. "Vete al infierno. Go to hell" I spat at her and ran to my room. I slammed the door behind me and locked it. I fell onto my bed, my entire body numb. A sob broke through my throat and soon I was sobbing uncotrollably. I didn't try to stop for I was drowning in my pain and anger.