23. Inés
23
Inés
I feel no pain. I hear nothing but the distant sound of the wind, soft and inviting, like a lullaby meant just for me. My hair flows freely, lifted by the gentle breeze, and my body soaks in the sun’s warmth, the golden rays wrapping around me like a hug that I have always needed to extinguish the fire inside of me.
The sky above shifts and clouds are rolling in, casting soft shadows over the unrecognizable place. But there is no fear, no dread. Just peace. A stillness I haven’t known in so long, or ever, for that matter.
For a moment, I let myself exist in it. No running, no fighting, no past clawing at my heels. Just this—this weightlessness, this quiet, this freedom.
I have no idea what is going on. I’m dead. I think… I mean, I have to be right. There would be no other explanation.
The distant sound of waves reverberates in my ears. My feet move before I can even process it. Each step brings me closer to the water.
My eyes widen, and I see it—the ocean. It’s beautiful. I have always wanted to visit the sea, but life had other plans for me—plans that brought me here today, wherever I am.
So many questions need to be asked, but who will answer them? Not a soul is in sight. The only living things that I can see near me are the seagulls in the sky.
I dig my toes in the sand, feeling the warmth envelop me even more. A soft breeze rolls in from the water, carrying a scent of salt and something familiar—something I can’t quite place. My body begins to move on its own again, drawn forward with a mind of its own, getting closer to the waves that lap gently at the shore, almost like they are calling to me.
I know I should be scared and confused in this moment, but an unexpected calm washes over me instead. It’s a strange sensation, almost as if I belong perfectly in this place. Maybe, just maybe, this is where I was destined to be all along. The thought lingers, giving me a sense of peace amid all of the chaos that has controlled me all of my life.
I stare up at the skyline where it looks to be kissing the sea, and for the first time in what seems like forever, my chest doesn’t ache, my body is relaxed, and my mind is free of worry. I don’t feel like I have to look over my shoulder every five seconds to make sure no one is after me. I don’t feel the need for vengeance here. What have I become? There is no way I am in heaven after the life I lived.
Moments pass as I just take it all in. I close my eyes and just remain in the moment. It sounds like a symphony in my head. If I were tired, I would sleep right here in this warm sand. Now that I think about it… I’m not tired or hungry. Two things I can never seem to control. I either slept too much or not enough. If food were up for grabs, I would never second guess myself, even if I wasn’t in the mood.
Suddenly, the silence is shattered by a voice. It’s a voice I thought I’d never hear again in my lifetime. My eyes snap open, and I begin to scan the area frantically, trying to locate the source. My heart races as I follow the direction from which the voice is coming, a mix of disbelief and curiosity driving me forward. The familiarity of the voice pulls me in, compelling me to figure out if I am hallucinating or not.
Then I see her. Holy shit.
My mom stands just ahead, waiting, her figure bathed in the skylight. My breath catches, my feet frozen in place. I can’t move. I can’t blink. I can only feel—the flood of emotions crashing over me all at once.
Her eyes meet mine, soft and knowing, and suddenly I’m a child again, running to her after scraping my knee, after a bad dream, after the world felt too big and I felt too small. All before I became corrupted. All before she died.
Tears begin to blur my vision as I take a shaky step forward. Then another. And another, until I break into a run, my heart pounding, my chest tightening with something I can’t name. No matter how many wrongs she may have done in life, I will always want my mom.
I throw myself into her arms, the sob ripping from my throat the second I feel her warmth. She holds me the way she always did—tight, safe, like she could shield me from everything bad in the world. She is how I always wished she would have been. Before Marklov, before the drugs, before the pain and betrayal, she gave her own daughter.
“Mama,” I cry, my fingers gripping the fabric of her dress. “Is it really you? I missed you so much.”
She strokes my hair, humming softly, her lips pressing against my temple. “Mi nina,” she whispers, her voice thick with undying love. “I know. I missed you too. If I could take all of the bad things in life away, I would in a heartbeat.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, inhaling her familiar scent—the warmth of home, rose perfume, and a bit of stale cigarette smoke. “I don’t want to go back,” I whisper, the words breaking as they leave my lips. “If this is all just some sort of dream, I don’t want to wake up.”
My mom sighs, pulling back just enough to cradle my face in her hands. Her thumbs brush away my tears, her own eyes glassy with sorrow. “You have to, mi amor it’s not your time.”
I shake my head, panic rising in my throat. “No—please. Just let me stay. I feel safe here…”
She presses her forehead against mine, her voice soft but steady. “They still need you, Inés. He still needs you.”
I can’t bear the thought of losing the one who’s meant for me… but the idea of going back fills me with dread. If I’m being completely honest, I don’t know him as well as I wish I did. That life was harsh, and I was harsh too. I’m no saint, but honestly, if someone had to endure the things I went through, I wouldn’t blame them for leaving a trail of fire behind with every step they took. The pain and struggle shaped me into someone I barely recognize, and now I’m caught between the desire to hold on and the need to move forward. I am a fuckin’ monster that deserves to be destroyed.
“You have some time, mi amor,” my mom lets out in a graceful voice. “I’m sorry, baby, I was too blinded by life to see how bad you needed me. I was a terrible mother.” She begins to choke up. “I’m so proud of you, Inés. I watch you every day. I know you do things because you feel like you have no choice; I want you to know that you need to listen to your heart.”
We begin walking along the beach. I don’t know when, but the sun’s rays disappeared, and it’s gloomy now. Not that I’m complaining; I’m just happy to be here.
“I am a monster mom. I’ve done things that no one can forgive, and I don’t expect them to. If I were to go back, who is to say it wouldn’t change?” I cry to her.
Storm clouds begin to roll in. My mom doesn’t even bother looking at it. My head jolts from left to right. The tide pulls in closer, the waves crashing louder as if the ocean itself is trying to drown out my thoughts. My mother stays calm, her expression soft, almost glowing in the gray. She reaches for my hand, her fingers warm despite the chill creeping into the air.
“Inés,” she says, her voice steady, “forgiveness isn’t about what others think. It’s about what you choose to carry.”
I swallow hard, my chest tightening. “And what if I can’t let it go?” I whisper. “What if I stay the same…?”
The wind picks up, swirling sand around us, but my mother stands unshaken. “Then it will destroy you,” she answers. “But you are not a monster. You are my daughter, and I see you—the real you, beneath everything you’ve done. And she is still worth saving.”
A sharp clap of thunder rumbles in the distance. I can feel the storm moving closer, the air thick with the scent of rain. My mother smiles, but it’s bittersweet, as if she knows something I don’t. That was when I noticed that we had been walking side by side, and her footprints were absent.
“You have more time,” she assures me, squeezing my hand. “But not forever, mi amor. When the storm breaks, you must decide—will you keep running from yourself, or will you fight to come back?”
The sky darkens even more, the first drops of rain hitting my skin like tiny sparks of fire. My mother starts to fade, her presence slipping through my fingers like grains of sand.
“Mom—” I reach for her, but she’s already disappearing.
“Inés,” her voice lingers, barely above a whisper, “wake up.”
And just like that, I’m yanked from the dream back to what must be reality. I still can’t move, but I can hear the sound of beeping and the faint sound of something dripping. My body is drenched in sweat, my pulse hammering in my ears. The storm is real. The rain pounds against the roof, the wind howling outside. The monitors pick up on my sudden change, and the beeping becomes chaotic.
A man’s voice cuts through a voice that I do not recognize.
“Hey, hey, Little Killer, calm down. You’re okay. You’re going to be just fine.” A smooth tone begins to relax me. The scent of men’s cologne takes over my senses, and I have no choice but to feel okay now. I’m just scared more than anything.
Little Killer–only one person has ever called me that, and that is Ghost–but that’s not his voice or his scent. It must be someone he knows and trusts in order for me to be in here with him.