I Wanna Go Home

“I wanna go home.” She who looks like the buffalo said in a sulky, lifeless voice.

“Baby you are home”. Yerskmur replied in a reassuring tone.

“Please let me go home”. She said again and again.

“She who looks like the buffalo, you're safe now, you’re home”.

“I WANNA GO HOME!” She screamed and then sank back down into the corner of the room.

“She who looks like the buffalo don’t you recognize me? Don’t you recognize your home, your living room? Why that couch right over there is where we used to spoon and watch movies. You always fell asleep before the movie finished, you said it was because you felt so safe and comfortable in my arms”.

“I’m addicted to meth”. She said in a helpless tone as tears rolled down her cracked weathered face. She looked 10 years older then her age. “They drugged me Yerskmur, until I couldn’t live without it”.

“I know. The police had said that it wasn’t uncommon for se… people who were in you position to be drugged. We’re already on top of getting you help. You can live without it.” I managed to say through a choked up voice. It was obvious she had been addicted for most, if not all of the 14 months she was missing.

“We were just sailing down the coast of South America.”

“She who looks like the buffalo you don’t need to…”

“They ambushed the ship”.

“You shouldn’t be…”

“They split us up, into groups where no one spoke the same language. They drugged me, Yerskmur, and rented me out to men in suits, and they raped me.

“I need a hit, I needed a hit, please, give me a hit” she begged me, as if she were my possession.

“You won’t find any of that here”.

“Give me a hit! I WANT A HIT RIGHT NOW! GIVE IT TO ME!” her voice cracking as she screamed.

“Yerskmur?” her mom said as she came down stairs

“Yes, Sally?” Yerskmur said

“I think it may be time to get her to bed, we’ve a busy day tomorrow.”

“Yes I think that would be best. I love you she who looks like the buffalo, more then anything and I’ll see you tomorrow. Okay?”

She looked up at me like an injured animal.

“Mom, it hurts so bad, I need a hit”. She said as I closed and exited the back door.

“Please let me have a hit”. She said in a pleading and louder voice.

“GIVE ME IT! I NEED IT!” The last thing I heard as I was closing my car door was crying.

Later that night the phone rang.

“Yerskmur” was the only thing I could understand through sobs.

“What is it Sally, what’s wrong?”

“It’s… it’s she who looks like the buffalo … she’s… she’s, Oh god my baby!” The next thing I heard was the phone hitting the floor and the echoing sobs of her mother.