Her apartment was seriously trashed. Tables were knocked over spilling contents of drawers to the floor. Everything was moved including her couch and sofa set. Papers were sprawled across the floor, glass picture frames broken revealing the paper photo to the world. Her lamps were wrecked and the TV along with other valuable items, gone. "Holey shit." I hissed in disbelief, I could hardly even distinguish her place. Stepping slowly around the mounds of broken items and knick knacks I headed down the hall way near the kitchen. Again I was faced with disaster. Broken glass covered her floor everywhere from the clattering of dishes and glasses. A small dish fell to the floor and broke into a thousand pieces before me. I jumped at the sound. I was more in shock then anything. Who the hell would do something like this? Turning away from the kitchen I continued down the hall. Cruz

"Cruz?!" I started to yell in panic. "Cruz!" I continued as I ran down the hall peering in each door. As I arrived in her bedroom I gazed around from the doorway. "Maritza?" I called my voice getting shakier and shakier by the minute. As I ventured in slowly I tried to push down the lump in my throat. Oh god… Clothes were spilled from her drawer and wardrobe all over the floor. Useless jewelry that must have had a meaning to her, were thrown around like shit. If someone had broken in, surely, the expensive items were gone. That explained the TV and stereo missing. "Cruz…" I said lowly. A few feet away I noticed a smear of blood on the nightstand out of the corner of my eye. Crawling over the bed quickly I looked down on the other side to see Maritza, lying on her back, surely unconscious.

"Awe shit!" I cursed as I knelt down by her putting my arm around her back and lifting her up in my arms. She had a large gash on her forehead and her face was bruised badly. "Ritza…?" Once I didn't get a response I immediately grabbed her wrist and checked for a pulse. She had a pulse but it was weak. I put my ear to her chest to hear a small wheezing sound, gasping for small breaths. "Oh god," I muttered fighting back the tears that welt in my eyes. "Cruz." I shook her gently looking down at her in my arms. I have to get help. I thought as she started to come around, her eyes slitting open slightly in fear and pain. She didn't move at all. Just laid there like a broken rag doll in my arms struggling to keep her heavy eyes open. "You're going to be okay," I said to her comfortingly as she returned with a confused expression. The usual dark expression was now gone, turned into one full of pain. For a minute she looked like she didn't know who I was, and then I could see it in her eyes. Its okay, I'm here… I wasn't sure how long she was going to stay with me. I never saw anyone look so helpless in my life. But one thing was for sure, she looked like my ma for a second, her face bruised and dark, someone had beat her, god knows what else. There going to pay. Grabbing my cell phone out of my pocket I dialed 9-1-1 and waited silently as the sirens came closer. "Ritza, please, stay with me." I said softly looking into her eyes trying to make them lock on mine. "C'mon damn it!" I cursed as she continued to struggle.

"Bos." She managed weakly gasping for a breath as I watched her chest fall. Please, breathe. Sure enough her chest rose, slowly and not much but it did. I started to panic. Where the hell were they?! I yelled in my head fiercely, anger filling my head. If you die, I swear to god! I thought, feeling quite selfish afterward. Who had the right to tell someone to not die when here she is, going though so much pain in the world? It wasn't right. I watched her making sure she was breathing. She was slipping out of reality quickly. The door slammed open and I watched as two paramedics pushed me away from her, working diligently to get her to Mercy ASAP. By the time they got her into the bus she was unconscious. Deciding I'd take my car, I followed the bus to Mercy, every thought in my mind trying to relate the beating to the coke. It had to have something in common; either that or it was one strange coincidence.