I close my eyes and take a deep breath. It’s the last Monday of the month. Trinidad gets off early and…so does her whole gossip circle. Behind the door to my apartments is a ring of women with enough passive-aggressiveness to drive The View to shame. Putting my hand to the doorknob might else well be death row for my day and my mood. Takes everything within me to turn the damn thing, push, and step inside.

Strangers can think I summon unholy demons from Lucifer’s Infierno for fun on the weekends all they want. They don’t know that the demons are already here. One partially open door is all it takes to get them to stop talking and veer their unnerving eyes my way through the cracks.

“Mira quien salio de la cueva.” Look who came out of the cave.

Rosario, Estela, Linda. And to lead them, Trinidad. We could form a pentagram if they decided to use me as their sacrificial lamb. Estela would love that. I’m sure under her bible hugging façade she’s itching to shed her skin, allowing the tight dark bun at the base of her neck to loosen while she hisses. Linda would join in because she has nothing better to do. She’s got only enough backbone to talk shit behind her neighbor’s backs.

Rosario’s the vocal one. Snide comments slip from her mouth the way the tongue slips out from a snake. It’s in her nature, buried deep inside the roots of her bottle-red hair. Trinidad sits back and lets her remarks happen. Like just now, with the cave comment.

“Como estas, niña?” How are you, girl? Asks Estela after blowing on the nasty lemon tea she brings to their meetups. Hers is not a genuine inquiry.

“Buenas tardes.” Good afternoon. Says Linda.

Lastly, my sister speaks.

“Ya que llegas temprano, te vas a quedar a cenar.” Since you’re early, you’re staying for dinner. When Trinidad speaks to me, it’s an order. Not a suggestion. Not an invitation.

I close the door, hard. She’s the one that wants the response, but as I do for her posse, I withhold a reply. She knows very well why I’m here but would sooner gouge her eyes out than allow me to sneak out of this house with stuff from my own room. Today, her wavy dark hair spills on either side of her fair face. Her brows are penciled thinly and evenly, and her mouth is colored red. She’s dolled herself up for a day with the gals, and I’m about to ruin it.

“Mari?” She repeats, watching me cross the living room to get to the hall. "Me oyes! Te quedarás a cenar!”

“I'm not staying for dinner.” I reply as indifferently to her command as I can. She hates it when I speak English with her company. It bugs her friends who understand only enough to pick out the obvious insults. But I never make my insults obvious enough for them. I think that’s why it bugs them.

If Trinidad responded, I didn’t hear her. Chills linger over my arms because of the laser-like eyes she zones on me, even as I disappear into the hall, past her room, and into mine. The door latches behind my back, and I pause to take in a deep breath. 

Trinidad still doesn’t say anything, which isn’t unusual when she has company. I do hear Rosario say some derogatory stuff about my shaved hair like she always does, and Linda making hmms in agreement.

In and get out, Mari. You’re not gonna be here long. Just ignore them.

Just ignore them all.