The Life of a Misunderstood Women

I always hated school, not because I didn’t know how to do the class work given to me, but because I always felt like teachers abused their authority as teachers. They would intentionally provoke our characters and try to get a reaction from us just so we can fear that they would tell our parents. But little did they know, that even though in my time a phone call from a teacher would lead to physical discipline from parents, once our parents would receive so much phone calls, they would eventually get tired of it and ignore them all and we eventually use that against the teachers. At least i did!

I grew up with a mother and a father. Sounds like a healthy life, righ?, Nope! My parents were together pretty long, twenty-five years to be exact. The way they met, according to the little stories my dad would tell me growing up, my dad had a convertible red car and my mom spotted him and just got on his whip and drove off with him. According to my dad, my mom had lied to him about her age. My mom told my dad she was eighteen years old, but soon her lie would be revealed when my mom asked my dad to come to her birthday party that my grandparents held her. When my dad looked at the cake, the cake had two candles, one of them had the number one and the other candle had a five, it was then when my dad asked my grandfather, “Isn’t she eighteen?” and my grandfather replied, “No she just turned fifteen”. My father was stun, because he was almost twenty-six years old. I don’t know how but my parents worked it out some how and lasted twenty-five years. I was my parents first child together. My dad had a son from his previous relationship and my mother had a daughter and pregnant by another guy when she met my dad. My dad knew my mom was pregnant but, still accepted my mom like that and even accepted my brother as his and even gave him his last name. Two years after my mom had my brother i came in. According to the stories my dad would tell me, when i was born my dad didn’t believe i was his daughter, because my parents wasn’t even together when i was conceived. They were broken up. When i was born, my father’s dad went out to the hospital to see me. He calls up my dad and says to him “Son, there’s no denying, that this baby girl is yours”. When my dad heard those words from my grandfather, six months later he found the money to come out to Puerto Rico and meet me. He’ve told me that my eyes brighten up when i first saw him. Til this day i still see my dad like he’s my hero, my everything.

When i was very young, i remember seeing my dad through a glass door in front of a house we own in Puerto Rico, after a night of arguments with my mom, which i don’t remember the arguments nor i remembered when my mom called the cops to escort my dad out of the house. The next morning my dad came back to the house, but my mom refused to open the door for him. I heard my dad in the porch and i looked at him helplessly through the glass door as he cried to me to open the door, while my mom would threaten me if i opened the door. Eventually they worked it out that day and got back together. This was one incident out of many, between my parents that i remembered when i was very young. My dad claims that he use to physically abuse my mom, but soon stopped after my little sister was born, because he feared we would recent him if we saw him abusing my mom. By we i mean my siblings and i. My dad swore he didn’t put a hand on my mom since the day he decided to stop. My mom took advantage of his decision and would provoke my dad to hit her, but as far as i remember he never once put a hand on her in front of me. Eventually things calm down between my parents and we would looked like a happy family, at least for a few years.