I walked in, I didn’t have much money in my pocket but I needed a charger for my phone. Walking around I saw a whole bunch of pink and red things. It was almost that time of year where all of a sudden you start loving and caring for people. I picked up a pink Valentine’s Day cup and burned some holes on it to have some fun. What I didn’t know was that the store owner had seen me so I started sprinting through the store, I had to get out, I was not going to get caught and go to juvie again. I hated going to juvie, but since my friends thought that was cool I never complained. In juvie I never know what’s going to happen so I had to be prepared. I remember stealing a pencil from class, I used it as my weapon when a rival gang tried to act buck with me or any of my homies. I tried running as fast as I could but I didn’t make it, I got caught and sent to juvie for a week.
As I was in my cell I laid down in my bed and started thinking about everything that has happen to me and how I got to where I am at today. In juvie there were so many different types of people from little rich kids that been caught for possession to killers. In here we might all be so different, but to the people out there we are all the same, some low lifes that have nothing better to do but get themselves in trouble. Everything I do gets judged, whether it’s right or wrong. How do I do differently when I was never taught the right from the wrong? I got put out in this world with no guidance, no one to follow, nowhere to go, on my own I had to figure it out.
I kept thinking of my dad and how every time I got in trouble somehow they blamed him. My dad wasn’t the best at taking care of a family but I understood why. He had raised me and my sister when my mom passed away a couple of weeks after giving birth to my twin stepbrothers. We might have not had the same dad, but we did have the same mom. To me they weren’t my stepbrothers or my stepdad, they were my brothers and he was my dad. He’s the one that raised me, the one that tried to give me food and a place to live. He couldn’t do it on his own. That’s why when my mom passed away one of my dad’s sisters, the youngest of the family, offered him to take in my new born twin brothers to try and help him out. She said she didn’t mind taking us in too, my older sister and me to help my dad out, but my dad didn’t want that. Although he did accept her help with the twins.
For a year or two it was only me and my sister Roxana at the house and then the twins came back. It was never the same after that. I don’t know what changed, if it was the fact that my baby brothers had come back or the fact that my dad was too busy taking care of them that pushed my sister and me away. We have always been treated different than my younger brothers, maybe because we weren’t his real kids, or because we were an obstacle in his life. I’ll never find out why because I’ll never get the courage to ask him why.
There was a time when he left us at my Uncle Juan’s house to go to Mexico. I don’t know why he went or when he was coming back, but all I know was that those days went by so slow they seemed eternal. He came back after a couple of weeks with a lady. I didn’t really care about the lady, all I cared about was seeing my dad again. He took us home and I noticed that she came along. I didn’t say anything, but when we got home Dad explained everything. She was going to be our new “mom.”
I didn’t want a new mom I was fine with just my dad, but I guess since we were little kids back then we did need a mom. She would always cook for us and wash our clothes and do a whole bunch of things around the house, but what she didn’t give us that love and affection that a mother is supposed to give. I did appreciate everything she did for us but it wasn’t the same.
I jumped out of my bed because I heard my name on the intercom. I asked the cop why they were calling my name and he said because someone had bailed me out and I was free to go. I walked out so happy because I didn’t have to stay. My dad was outside waiting for me, it was the first time he had bailed me out in all those times I got arrested. After that day everything changed completely. My dad and I grew closer together. That simple jester of bailing me out was all it took for me to realize that he did care about me.
I started going to school again, although I didn’t get straight A’s but I tried. The day of my graduation my dad gave me a hug and said he was proud of me, proud of his son. Hearing him call me his son was crazy and pretty amazing at the same time. Graduating high school was good enough for my dad but not for me. That’s why I’m heading off to college. I want to be able to inspire people and show them that no matter the struggles you go through, they only make you stronger.