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The day I left
When I was a kid, I used to watch the sky until night fall. I was obsessed by the blue. It meant freedom to me. It was everything I ever wanted. But I never thought that once you reach the sky the only route left was to fall. Fair enough. You can't fly forever. You can't dream forever. Someday you'll have to open up your eyes to see the life you are doomed to live. That's life. A wonderful fruit that have a bitter taste.
Did l fall? Was it caused by reality, dreams that had no future or disappointment?
That's all good questions. But was it a fall? Falling from a cliff may be dangerous, even suicidal tho, but, it was actually the first time in my life I could breathe. I was free all long from the sky to sea, with the wind embracing me like a bird. That feeling, that relief from all of these sixteen years that just fly away in the wind, that was exactly what I needed.
I never wanted to commit suicide. My foot slipped off and that's it. But, this moment when I thought that everything was stolen from me, that it was the end, that I might not be able to eat chocolate anymore, that was the moment that saved me. That was the moment that opened up my eyes and mind. That was when I decided to live, and somehow, I survived.
So, yeah, it wasn't a fall. It was my salvation.
Although, this story isn't about falling or redemption. It's just a girl telling a story about herself, how she died every day till her sixteen, and how she came back to life from the abyss. That's all.
Everything started on a particular Sunday.
It was a hell of a summer day. Like always, I was the good kid at the wrong place, in the wrong family. The one that actually mess everything up. The one that is guilty of the murder of her brothers, the one that was responsible for every bad day. The one that deserved all the abuses. Yeah. I was. I had no other choice than endure this family day by day hoping for a miracle to come every tomorrow's morning. No school, no dreams, no one that care enough to help.
Was I a victim? Nope. We all were. Poverty is a beast that have no mercy. When it bites my dad at his left leg, making him lose his job by the way, everyone in the family was hit by a truck. Even me. At this time I was comfortable in my mom's belly. And there I was. Unwanted kid. Prematured kid, at a very difficult, tough and hellish time. It wasn't my choice neither theirs. Unfortunate events, unfortunately brings unfortunate outcomes. That's how it is. That's life.
Dad wasn't at his best with just one leg. My older brothers tried to help as much as they could. They started to work, so they could buy diapers for their little sister.
Marcos was fifteen and Jaime was twelve. My two heroes went through hell going to school in the morning, then to work in the evening just for their little sister that couldn't even pronounce their name. It was painful growing up watching these two take responsibility for everything and everything. Even my dad's alcoholism.
They were angels, but, outside was hell. They loved me enough to stand for me when our parents wanted to beat me. Because of this, they were thrown out of the house when I was four. They had no one to turn to. They gave up on school, but they didn't give up on me, even if when they weren't home. Actually, they paid my parents to keep them from beaten my ass to death. That's why they made the good deal with the wrong persons later on just to get more money, so I could live in peace. Then they were selling drugs, until Marcos was killed when I was around ten, and Jaime get caught by the police. He died in jail.
That brings us back with this particular Sunday in a hellish summer in California. I was the little princess of the house thanks to these two. But when my protector died on Monday, dad slap me for the first time on Tuesday morning telling me that I was the one who killed my brother. "He died because of you", he said. I assumed that's why I didn't ever fight back, because I deserved it after all.
From this day my life was just a living nightmare. It's not that it was all perfect before. I had two pillars who shielded me before. But now, they are gone I was all by myself, with no one to give me chocolate instead of slaps. No one loved me like they did. No one. And that particular Sunday was just another line in my misery. Even tho it wasn't the first time I was punched or slapped, but this time, it hit me differently.
I remember that day like it was just yesterday, even if it's been ten years.
I was in the kitchen, getting breakfast ready for my drunk father. Around nine o'clock mom returned home. "Where did you sleep that night ?", said the drunk dad standing on his crutches. "At work like always you dumbass!!", yelled mom right back at him.
I couldn't tell if my dad was jealous, or if he was just a jerk. Maybe he was both. Who knows? The only thing I know is that they were lovers that were out luck at very young age. It was sad seeing them turning like that.
And...
Did l fall? Was it caused by reality, dreams that had no future or disappointment?
That's all good questions. But was it a fall? Falling from a cliff may be dangerous, even suicidal tho, but, it was actually the first time in my life I could breathe. I was free all long from the sky to sea, with the wind embracing me like a bird. That feeling, that relief from all of these sixteen years that just fly away in the wind, that was exactly what I needed.
I never wanted to commit suicide. My foot slipped off and that's it. But, this moment when I thought that everything was stolen from me, that it was the end, that I might not be able to eat chocolate anymore, that was the moment that saved me. That was the moment that opened up my eyes and mind. That was when I decided to live, and somehow, I survived.
So, yeah, it wasn't a fall. It was my salvation.
Although, this story isn't about falling or redemption. It's just a girl telling a story about herself, how she died every day till her sixteen, and how she came back to life from the abyss. That's all.
Everything started on a particular Sunday.
It was a hell of a summer day. Like always, I was the good kid at the wrong place, in the wrong family. The one that actually mess everything up. The one that is guilty of the murder of her brothers, the one that was responsible for every bad day. The one that deserved all the abuses. Yeah. I was. I had no other choice than endure this family day by day hoping for a miracle to come every tomorrow's morning. No school, no dreams, no one that care enough to help.
Was I a victim? Nope. We all were. Poverty is a beast that have no mercy. When it bites my dad at his left leg, making him lose his job by the way, everyone in the family was hit by a truck. Even me. At this time I was comfortable in my mom's belly. And there I was. Unwanted kid. Prematured kid, at a very difficult, tough and hellish time. It wasn't my choice neither theirs. Unfortunate events, unfortunately brings unfortunate outcomes. That's how it is. That's life.
Dad wasn't at his best with just one leg. My older brothers tried to help as much as they could. They started to work, so they could buy diapers for their little sister.
Marcos was fifteen and Jaime was twelve. My two heroes went through hell going to school in the morning, then to work in the evening just for their little sister that couldn't even pronounce their name. It was painful growing up watching these two take responsibility for everything and everything. Even my dad's alcoholism.
They were angels, but, outside was hell. They loved me enough to stand for me when our parents wanted to beat me. Because of this, they were thrown out of the house when I was four. They had no one to turn to. They gave up on school, but they didn't give up on me, even if when they weren't home. Actually, they paid my parents to keep them from beaten my ass to death. That's why they made the good deal with the wrong persons later on just to get more money, so I could live in peace. Then they were selling drugs, until Marcos was killed when I was around ten, and Jaime get caught by the police. He died in jail.
That brings us back with this particular Sunday in a hellish summer in California. I was the little princess of the house thanks to these two. But when my protector died on Monday, dad slap me for the first time on Tuesday morning telling me that I was the one who killed my brother. "He died because of you", he said. I assumed that's why I didn't ever fight back, because I deserved it after all.
From this day my life was just a living nightmare. It's not that it was all perfect before. I had two pillars who shielded me before. But now, they are gone I was all by myself, with no one to give me chocolate instead of slaps. No one loved me like they did. No one. And that particular Sunday was just another line in my misery. Even tho it wasn't the first time I was punched or slapped, but this time, it hit me differently.
I remember that day like it was just yesterday, even if it's been ten years.
I was in the kitchen, getting breakfast ready for my drunk father. Around nine o'clock mom returned home. "Where did you sleep that night ?", said the drunk dad standing on his crutches. "At work like always you dumbass!!", yelled mom right back at him.
I couldn't tell if my dad was jealous, or if he was just a jerk. Maybe he was both. Who knows? The only thing I know is that they were lovers that were out luck at very young age. It was sad seeing them turning like that.
And...
