Conveniently Married To A Billionaire

PAGE -2-

HAPPY READING

Delsa Mingo POV

Travelling the world was supposed to be fun, an experience of a lifetime. It was supposed to be my first fling before I started my career. Learning their language was supposed to be interesting and intriguing. Visiting the sights was supposed to be exciting, meeting new people was supposed to invigorate me but today I regret my decision to tour Europe. I regret their language, their attraction, their food even I regret it all. Worst off I hate their national security.

"l-ikel iservi," ( food is served) the officer says with a bowl of whatever slushy meal they are serving. He ascends the deployable metal grill from its frame walking into the cell. He slaps the slushy looking meal into the dirty bowl slipping it to the other four inmates.

"tirrifjuta li tiekol illum mill-ġdid missy" ( you refuse to eat again today missy) He looks at and I couldn't help asking myself, how the hell did I end up in a jail cell full of filth and can't understand a word of why I'm in here. All I know is I was picked up without my passport and thrown into a jail cell for how many days, I lost count. Counting the days wasn't a priority to me, understanding what they were saying was much more of my interest but to no use. I couldn't figure out a word of it or why they place me in here. Was it such a crime to travel? How can anyone be arrested and placed in a jail cell without being informed of why they are incarcerated. What a crime have I committed at being adventurous and travelling to this God-forsaken country.

I shake my head I know he must be asking if I want any because he stretches the bowl in front of me.

I remember picking my purse on the third day of being here in Malta ready with my brochure in hand to see all the sights I read about hoping I can pack them into my trip. I was ready and excited to move among the foreigners, try their food and Maltese language. I bought a translation book and made my way to the hotel after two flights and the longest bus ride to this town. I slept for a whole day after my flight to regain my strength only to end it here. I had it all planned out for two weeks; see all the tourist attractions, try all their local food even visit a club why not, I persuaded myself to be daring for the first time in my entire life.

My roommate of four years Jemima pulled out at the last minute after a family emergency. I didn't change plans I went ahead wanting to do this for the longest time. I never did anything spontaneous or lived vicariously, this was my opportunity. I thought I could be a little bold and give my virginity to a cute foreigner who knows the possibilities were endless as I unravelled them in thoughts. This was to be an adventure of a lifetime before I start my life. Who knows I could even have a whirlwind romance waiting for me but I can't help saying here I am sitting in a jail cell.

I sit here eyes swollen from all the crying, cooped up in a jail cell crawling with insects and nastier than a refugee dumpsite. The other inmates peed in the corner and the stench is unbearable. The cell is so small it's like I can't breathe and it's a surprise to me that I survived this long without water, food or using the toilet. It is amazing what you can endure once place in the situation.

My mind is preoccupied with thoughts of how I'm ever going to get out of here. No one knows what happened to me and my mother is probably going crazy because it's unlike me to not check in with her. My parents aren't rich and if they take a lawyer how long will they be able to afford someone to fly out here to handle whatever is going on here with me. To afford this trip I worked three jobs and planned it an entire year before graduation. How will I be able to do anything when all my paperwork and cash is back in my hotel room. Oh my, will they still keep the room with my stuff after all I was to stay there for two weeks? I wonder if after I didn't return if they contacted the authorities or anyone. Or was this business as usual and after my disappearance they discarded my stuff and offer my room to the next paying customer.

I groan as my stomach rumbles from hunger and pain; for what might be my faith. I never even so much as visited a jail cell in my country but here I am in a foreign country sitting in one with my numb butt crack wondering if this is my end after all my efforts studying and hard work to gain my education.

I always lived according to the rules. Always did the right thing even if I disagreed. I did what I was supposed to do when I was supposed to. I'm always polite, helping my elders and any kid needing my help, I love the feel of being needed and helpful around my community. I also listen to my parents doing as they say. So why am I in here, the one time I choose to do things a little different. The funny thing about this life is I always want things to go my way, the way I envisioned it but of course faith always has its way, the final say of changing and taking you with the winds of this world wouldn't things be so much better if everything goes according to your minds vision of aspects of your life? according to plan. I guess that would be too simple strolling through without troubles insight. Would that be too hard or bad to avoid all life's troubles?

The very first time I decided to step out on a limb it breaks. I'm not even left hanging, I fell into a pit. The pit of hell. I never even had a boyfriend or experienced love. Maybe meet my soul mate in the future. I never had an opportunity to do anything, date or live in the moment not that I didn't want to date but not a single guy in college ever saw me. I was the good old gal pal and it was comfortable. I was busy with my studies so it didn't bother me either, although my roommate had a very social life and dated a lot I never felt I missed out, she was always crying over one guy or the other over a heartbreak. I was bored eventually with the same routine day after day hence this trip. Now slump in the corner of my cell I sigh again watching around my surroundings and feeling pity for myself.

On that faithful day, the policemen just pulled up next to me, surrounded me with huge guns and take my belongings. They proceeded to talk so fast and nothing sound English to me. I stood there stupid as to what is happening. They place me in handcuffs and put me in the back of their vehicle while the crowd in the street watched on. Here I sit butt cheeks glued to the concrete since then wondering what the hell I did to be in here and why me?

My mind has been going off like clockwork trying to figure out what went wrong and why it did. "Oh God, why me?" I couldn't help repeating this statement even though I know an answer wouldn't fall from the sky or this horrible ceiling. is this my end? my family, my career and my adorable pet pugs are waiting back home for me.

I should have been home in my shell getting ready to start my career but no, I talked myself into living vicariously for a moment. Look at the place it leads me, with each new day my sanity is slipping and it's like a really bad unpleasant nightmare. Every morning my eyes open its like this horrible dream will never end. I gulp but my throat burns from thirst and hunger that darken my eyes.

Was I so stupid to think this was going to be like in the movies or a really good romance book but look at me, I smell awfully unpleasant. My natural hair has matted onto my head and I'm in the same underwear for God knows how long now. I cried an ocean full of tears already and to no avail. I'm all cried out at this point but yet my tears flow. Unlike the movies, no white knight isn't going to magically appear and rescue me from this hell hole I've been placed in. Was I so dumb? to think this trip could have been more, way more; worth talking of for a lifetime. I sigh for the thousandth time since daybreak and it hasn't helped me in any way, shape or form. All I have now is my over-processing mind to keep me sane.

Each passing day my hope is slipping away from me, was an adventure so wrong? Was it so bad to do things a little different for once in my life? No matter how often I asked myself these questions the answer remains the same; why me? why couldn't I come here and have the best possible time of my life, maybe fall in love and experience feelings I've only read about. The little faith I have left, keep telling me to picture myself curling up on my couch with my snuggly tweety bird blanket, a plate of oatmeal cookies, Toot curl up at my feet and my phone reading 'the shape of things to come' for the twenty how much time. But as soon as the thought comes it goes with the God awful smell of this cell and the other inmates I try to stay away from.

Will this be my end, is this how my life ends after all I've tried to stay strong, do the right thing and be smart. If this is my ultimate end lord please let me experience at least one post-coital bliss. If just one will make me die a happy woman.

Sitting alone with my thoughts, afraid to think what if no one ever finds me. What if I am sentenced to life in imprisonment when I'm passing through their judicial system. What if no one ever comes for me. What if they say I killed someone, I will never know because I can't speak their language or do I understand any of it. Lord, please send me a sign that this isn't my reality. let this not be my end, please lord. I want to get married, have loving kids and an adorable, respectful loving husband with a mandingo warrior of a junk in his trunk that dumps like a truck.

'So you think this is a book? you think you're reading one of those books you keep sticking your head in fantasising about romance and s**t' my subconscious makes its snide remark and I couldn't help agreeing.

With all these what-ifs and unanswered questions in my thought, I lean my head down to my knees, wrapping my arms around them as they are pressed against my chest. I close my eyes as the hinger is beginning to affect me. Please lord just another day.