The more the I think about my religious views, the more I contemplate whether there really is a devil or not.
They say he’s in our music, our movies, the drugs we take, the alcohol we drink, our fucking thoughts.
The last time I was under the influence of ecstasy, I swear on my life that I felt like I was in his shoes. I saw my friend’s and family’s eyes go pitch black. Their teeth were sharp as razors and pointy as nails.
Is this his way of getting to the youth of our world? Is he really in our sins? They say curiosity killed the cat, and I’m starting to believe it. My curiosity starts to eat at me and I do everything imaginable just satisfy my curiosity. I hope my curiosity doesn’t kill me.
This is my story.
You know, it’s crazy how you can know of all these people going through situations like broken families, divorce, jail, death.. and never even considering that any of it can happen to you and your family.
I was raised with both of my parents, not married but still together. I grew up with an older brother, a younger brother, and two younger sisters. We lived in Gilroy, California then moved to Modesto, California in 2002 along with my uncle. We took in my mother’s half brother and sister from Guatemala. I was 8 at the time. Not much of a change that I noticed, just 2 hours away from other family like my aunts and uncles plus a new beginning.
My mom is from Guatemala, and my dad is from Mexico. So, of course I grew up in a strict home. As I got older, I started noticing that the way I was being raised wasn’t right. I mean I know my manners and know not to be disrespectful, but it was how I was taught. I remember in Gilroy when I was in preschool, my mother would “spank” me if I didn’t know my address and phone number memorized. I thought it was okay because I was little. It did become useful though, because when I was only 4 and a half I was abandoned at a park by my mom’s “friend”. I saw some guys, I didn’t feel comfortable. So I approached a woman with a child and told her I was lost. I gave her my address and she took me home. She told my mother what had happened but she never reacted. Never contacted the cops or even bothered to ask me questions. Nothing. I don’t quite remember what age I was, but I remember her yelling at me, demanding that I clean my room. I tried my best but it wasn’t enough. I remember her hitting me with a wooden spoon and left me a purple bruise. She begged me not to tell the school, so I didn’t..
Things were fine as a family in Modesto. I was able to go out and play, and wasn’t really “spanked”. Once I started middle school, things started changing. That’s when I was able to fully understand what was acceptable and what wasn’t. I started to notice changes at home. No more family dinners, no more going out to eat together, no more communication. There was a point where my mother would get angry and make everyone else feel the way she felt. She would make my father feel low and worthless. She would then start to beat me with a belt, but I knew it wasn’t acceptable. So I would always try to stop her. I told her it wasn’t right to hit her children. One day, I finally had enough. I reported it to the school nurse. They left a fucking voice mail letting my mom know that I reported it. She looked at me with a smile and said I had made a mistake. Thinking my father would be on my side, he took me to the school nurse and forced me to tell her that it was a lie. After that, my mother just had my brother do the beating since she didn’t want to get in trouble for it. Of course, he’d do as she wished. He was never close to us. It almost seemed like he had fun. I quit fighting back and pretty much became her slave. I ignored her comments and just accepted the fact that things wouldn’t change. When I got molested in 6th grade, I didn’t even bother telling anyone in my family. I went 2 years in middle school being called a “snitch” because I had told the school about it.
I started high school and freshman year made me believe that things had finally turned around. I had two best friends, we always hung out and everything was great at home. Sophomore year came around and things turned right back around. My only best friend got pulled out of school for smoking weed. I smoked too, but I had stopped when I got a boyfriend. I never told him about my situation until things got to the point where my mom would pack my stuff and threaten to send me off to Guatemala. He knew things weren’t right at home. He could feel the tension and negativity at my house. He told his mother, and his mother was on my side. She had told me about emancipation. She was going to take my mother to court and fight for me. His step father was also on my side, he had agreed to take me in as his own. He would have been my legal guardian, but with all the stress piling up, I started smoking weed again and I eventually turned to ecstasy. It took over my personality. I started taking all my issues out on my boyfriend, so he broke up with me. I lost connection with him and his family.
After the break up, I felt as though my mom felt bad so it all stopped for a while. My senior year was manageable. My uncles and aunt had moved out. They had helped out a lot with paying bills but since my brother was a DJ, he took over and helped my parents out. After I started my second semester of senior year, things started going way downhill. My brother moved out and stopped helping out as much. Towards the end of January my brother had gone to prison for transporting around 56 pounds of heroine in Connecticut. My mom used all her savings and my college money to hire lawyers for his conviction. My parents definitely started struggling with bills and still are. Getting loans left and right. My mom continuously bashes my dad with negative comments again. I can tell he doesn’t feel comfortable in his own home. He goes to work, cook, cleans, tries to spend time with his kids, but of course my mom comes in and starts yelling at him. He just goes off to his room like a child. She treats him like a child. I’ve noticed he’s started to drink a lot more and it worries me. This is only getting worse. My mom is planning on moving back to Guatemala with my two sisters and not telling my dad about it. I don’t understand how she could possibly get up and leave my dad, brother and I just like that. As if we don’t even matter to her. I can’t comprehend how she could even THINK about taking my sisters away from my dad and half their siblings. My dad is a man with a huge heart and strong love for his children. It’s so hard for me to go day by day know that THIS is going to happen. I can’t stand to see my dad go through heartache. I can’t stand living in this home seeing my mom put him down like this. I feel useless and completely helpless being 18 with no fucking job and no car. I feel suffocated and trapped. I constantly look for a way out, but I can’t help but think about my dad.. He deserves so much better and I wish I could give him that “better”.
Here’s a big “FUCK YOU.” to all the teachers that doubted me.
I finally found a website where I can watch my movies.
THANK YOU SWEET BABY JESUS.
Let me know if you want :)
Ask me personal questions.
I have a lot to get off my chest. A complete stranger would really help my cause.
