Maya's Choice by Earl Sewell

come.
    â€œBaby, what’s wrong? What did he say?” Misalo embraced me and stroked my back. I buried my face in his chest and sobbed.
    â€œNothing is working out the way I envisioned it. I had the perfect afternoon planned and now everything is ruined.”
    â€œIt’s going to be okay.” Misalo tried to reassure me but his words were filled with empty promises.
    â€œLet’s just run away,” I suggested. “We’ll show everyone just how strong true love is. We’ll show them that there is only one person that each of us is meant to be with. For me, I know that person is you.” I stepped away and looked into Misalo’s eyes. “Don’t you feel the same way?”
    â€œYou know that I do,” he agreed.
    â€œThen tell me. I need to know that no matter what, someway, somehow, we’ll be together and no one or nothing can tear us apart.” I waited for his response as if my heart would stop beating if he didn’t feel the same way.
    â€œMaya, from the moment I first met you, I knew that you were special. I want the same things that you want and I’ll do anything to prove it.” Misalo kissed me.
    â€œMy father said you didn’t love me because you took me to an unsafe and inhumane dogfight,” I whispered as I smeared away more tears.
    Misalo embraced me once again. “That’s ridiculous. He just doesn’t want to realize that you’re a woman now. Sooner or later he is going to have to come around and respect our relationship.” Misalo held me tightly and it felt warm and beautiful like the blending of the sea and sky.
    â€œExcuse me, Maya.” It was my little brother, Paul. “You may want to get him out of here really fast. I just got off the phone with Mom and she’s just up the street stuck waiting for the freight train to pass.”
    â€œOh, my God! Hurry up, Misalo! You’ve got to get out of here. If she sees you I’ll never hear the end of it.” Misalo wasted no time rushing out of my room. He retrieved his bike from the garage, mounted it and took off as fast as he could before my mother arrived.

seven
    VIVIANA
    When I returned to the apartment I was so thankful my mother and her boyfriend, Martin, were not there, because I really didn’t feel like answering a bunch of questions about why my face looked the way it did. My bottom lip was split down the middle, and my face was bruised in several places. Most of the damage could be hidden with makeup, so in a way I was thankful for that. I went into the bathroom, took a shower and went about the business of hiding my war wounds. When I was finished I stared at myself in the mirror. All of my blemishes were well concealed, but I didn’t like my reflection. I felt as if I were a train wreck that no one really cared about. I got angry and let out a scream.
    â€œYou’re such a lost cause, Viviana!” I spat at my own reflection.
    Wringing my hands I said, “Maybe you should hurt yourself. Perhaps then someone would care.” The thought of allowing my mind to slip into madness was a tempting one.
    When I finished mentally beating myself up, a feeling of claustrophobia came over me. I suddenly felt as if the wallswere caving in on me. The musty odor of the apartment made my stomach turn sour and my skin felt as if there were millions of tiny ants crawling all over it. I began scratching my arms, my hair and my stomach with my fingernails. I shouted at the top of my voice again as I walked out of the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around my body, feeling as if I were about to lose my mind. I decided to stand still in an attempt to calm myself.
    â€œGet a grip, Viviana,” I said, trying to reassure myself that I was safe and that I was okay. I took a few deep breaths and said, “I have to get out of here.” I rushed back into my bedroom and put on some clothes. Racing out of the apartment, I took the back