The Journey - 2

Los Angeles, California.

~~~

If there was one thing I never thought to befall me in my entire lifetime of navigating this earth, it was running away from a faceless man—A man with just a name, with not a description and profile I could ascribe it to.

Huncho.

I still could remember the words of Marta that night—The fear which crept in her eyes while she spoke that name, and the only word she made sure to repeat into my ears.

"Run!" She barked at me. "Run, because he will hunt you down, and when he finally gets his hands on you, he'd make sure you pay for the stress you put him through"

"Huncho is a viper, Camila" She made mention to me. "A viper whom you've just crossed"

"She looks bland"

I snapped myself out of those warring thoughts in my head, fetching my spirits back to the area where I now found myself.

I shriveled at the words of the woman, now left staring blank-eyed at the lady who had just waddled down the stairs.

That figure came sauntering into the room with every aura a person could amass, clad in a white bodycon dress which clung so tightly to her lean frame, doing well to accentuate her curves.

She had strolled into the room in such grace, the sound of her voice breaking the silence which had once settled in this space, and in the minute of silence, I was spared a moment to access the profile of the lady.

Her hair came fallen just an inch off her shoulders, in a coal-colored blunt cut, her face, heavily caked in makeup, and even I can tell you that the lady before me was not far from being as beautiful as fetched.

She had a lips plumped to perfection with injections, anyone could tell, but yet, the woman was a walking figure of elegance.

And now back to her utterance, she turned to the lady who had brought me into such magnificence of a home which not for once in my life did I think I would tread on.

"Bland?" Came the words of Pavla, who was now grabbing a hold of my hands, pushing me forward onto the lady.

"Yes, she looks bland..."

I heard those words follow from miss elegant stood before me, with those eyes of hers accessing me proper.

"...Like without life" She went on. "...I don't know" She sighed. "There's just something that doesn't settle right with me..." She drawled.

"...but never mind, it could just be the nerves getting the most of me"

If only she knew how I got here. Then the lady would know that she was in no way wrong, and had every reason to be bothered.

"Maybe it has something to do with her hair" I heard the words of the lady follow.

"Her hair?"  Called Pavla at once. "What's wrong with her hair?"

Yet again, they spoke about me like I wasn't in the room with them.

"I don't like blondes" And Flat-out, the words came pouring from the Miss, and in that minute, I only remained watching the lady lingering in the silence which followed.

And amidst my hopes in breaking away from this stranger who so happened to have me intimidated by the aura she gave, Pavla was just intent on getting rid of me.

"Oh, Mrs Wesley" I heard her words. "She could dye her hair, if you wish"

And at that, the woman called Mrs Wesley soon raised a brow, brushing it off with a flick of her wrist.

"That would just be silly of me to ask" She dropped.

"But are there other choices of a maid you have at the moment?" She questioned, gaze now turned to Pavla.

"No, ma'am" Came those words from Pavla. "I'm afraid she's the only one we could fetch"

I watched the face of Mrs Wesley cross with disappointment, and soon come, she spun to me, gaze skimming me properly.

Her lips opened up to speak, yet, I caught not a sound, but surely, in a minute, her utterance broke.

"What...is...your...name?" She called in a speech that seemed most distorted, voice grown in tone, as if, if she spoke any louder it would pass the message better.

But I tell you, I didn't need the lady speaking to me like some dummy. I had been forced to English lessons back in Monterrey, and however gruesome it was, I can boast of conversing like a native when times called for it.

"Tu nombré" She emitted in an American induced accent.

"I'm Camila, ma'am" I spoke for the first time since my arrival into the room. "And I do speak English"

How much of a treasure such look of contortion which riddled her face was. Her brows went furrowed in annoyance, and in a sneer, her words followed;

"Alright, then...that makes it better to have you around" She called.

"I believe you've been enlightened on your role to play while in employment" and at her words, I gave a nod.

Clean the rooms, mop the tiles, wash the dishes, make the meals. Pavla had gone over that thousand of times all through our journey here, and with that darning smile she put on her face, I could tell it was nothing but a façade, and all her motive was centered on, was getting rid of me.

I could tell how uncomfortable I made her feel, right from that moment whence Marta handed me into her arms, she not for once took a liking to it.

Not for once did I realize what was happening not until I saw the wad of money being snuck into the hands of Marta Frederigo, all in exchange of me.

And then it hit me. I had been sold.

And the truth of who Marta Frederigo was, was nothing but a trafficker.

She sold girls from Mexico to Pavla, all who would then be dispersed in various organizations in the United states. Some sent to various homes as househelps, some unfortunate to be sold to drug-dealers who had them doing their dirty works, and other being used as call girls.

I was only lucky to have escaped the other two only landing me in a job that had me working as a maid.

Snapping my gaze up to the lady whose hands were now picking at my hair, staring at it in sheer disgust, her voice came pouring.

"Well, I guess I'd have to make do with you"

I heard those words.

"You are to begin work immediately..." She dropped, and please take yourself to the guest room, and have a shower.

"I'm afraid your stench would only pollute the bliss of my home" She snarled.

I watched her fetch a bunch of keys off the coffee table, and with the sound of her heels echoing all around the room, she escorted Pavla to the door, leaving me stood here, clutching onto my luggage.

"I'll be back in a few" I heard the voice of Mrs Wesley call out to me.

"I need to fetch a few things off the mall, and perhaps stop by the day care"

She walked out of the house in a moment, and soon come, I heard the sound of her car, revving out of the driveway, driving into the streets of the city that made up California.

I grabbed my things off the floor, already conscious of the words of Mrs Wesley about me littering her home with my dirt, and at once, I made my up the stairs in search of the guest room.

And that, I tell you was how I found myself working in the home of the Wesleys, and the events which would occur thereafter, were sure to change my measly little life.