She lives trapped in her mind. Her world is no different from mine. She was born in a violent environment. Growing up to believe violence was a normal affection. Her father was always beating her mother. Fussing and fighting was their motto. She had a brother whom she fought with all the time. She was Cinderella. All she did were the house shores all day. Whenever times were hard both, her father and her brother became touchy. “But that’s normal”, she says. There were no happy stories ever told to my ears from her lips. All I learned about my grandparents was that they scolded my mother constantly. All she ever wished was to run away. Her grandmother was the only family member that truly loved her. Everyone else only knew how to make her feel inferior, ugly and insignificant. This unaffectionate family created a monstrous woman full of fear and courage. Her schoolmates made ridiculous remarks regarding her appearance. Not that she was hideous. Petite young lady with the best fake smile worn. She is my definition of thriving.
At the age of eighteen she became a mother and a wife. Finally leaving her house with all the love she could’ve learned. Transmitting this so-called “love” to her husband and children. She had a “happy family” of three. They were the Mendez. What she believed to be a happy ending was only the beginning of the end. As time went by, her husband began to misbehave and forced her into sleeping with him.
When “love” no longer was her motto, she decided to end the relationship with her husband. She screamed and yelled at him to leave the house. He left the house and arrived at the police station. While inside the car, he shot himself. My sister corrected the wrong image I had in my head.
The story I had heard by my mother was different. She told me she didn’t want to be with him any longer. When they began to talk about it until the heat of the moment played its part. So he went up on the roof, were he committed suicide.
I think…
I choose to believe my sister. The tears in her eyes told me the truth.



2 thoughts on ““Love”

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