The Suitcase

She didn't know who this person was. So she called her Old Woman. They lived together in a bungalow infested with cockroaches and mosquitoes. In the bungalow, other women lived too. Younger. Servants. They all revered the Old Woman as if she was a goddess and treated her with the utmost respect and fear. She wondered who the Old Woman was but never found out. All She knew was that when the Old Woman spoke, She listened. When the Old Woman wanted her to dance, She was to oblige. Whatever the Old Woman wanted from her, She was to give happily. She was the Old Woman's property. She was owned.

She always felt an odd feeling around the Old Woman. Cold. Distant. Eerie. Something was not quite right. Inside her, strange feelings would surface. Conflicting feelings. She hated the Old Woman, but She also wanted to love her. She was frightened by the Old Woman's hand, but She wanted to be enveloped in her arms. The Old Woman humiliated her in front of her friends daily, yet She was eager to please. She was ridiculed and berated, yet She yearned for the Old Woman's approval.

One day, in her fifth year with the Old Woman, she snuck out to play with a neighbor girl. She was lonely in that dank bungalow, being the only child there. She had the dogs for company of course, but she longed for someone else. Surely a few minutes away wouldn't hurt. Being with other children was a precious gift. One that she cherished. They played a game of hopscotch in the neighbor's cracked driveway. Jumprope was next and as they began to play, the Old Woman appeared suddenly. Yelling and cursing. She stood frozen not knowing what to do next. The Old Woman showed her the branch from the guava tree. The branch She was all to familiar with. She quickly ran home with the Old Woman following closely behind.

The Old Woman took her into her bedroom. She was spared the branch this time, but was given a punishment much worse than any lashing. The Old Woman pulled out a tattered suitcase from her dresser. She was told to pack all of her belongings and to leave immediately. She panicked and started sobbing uncontrollably. The Old Woman kept yelling at her to leave and She started begging for her mercy and forgiveness, over and over and over. She stood there, the front of her shirt wet from all the tears. The suitcase in one hand as the Old Woman reminded her that She was owned. She was property. How dare She want to be anywhere else but with the Old Woman! She was an ungrateful little bitch who didn't deserve to live in this bungalow, infested with cockroaches and mosquitoes. She was nothing. She was nothing without the Old Woman. She begged and pleaded for the Old Woman to let her stay. She must have said sorry a thousand times through her blubbering and tears. She said sorry for being such an awful little girl. Ungrateful. Undeserving. She promised to be better. To remember what she was in this dark, filthy house. After a long while, the Old Woman told her to put the suitcase away. And she did.