If I could be reborn

By "FujoshiiPanda-kun"  |   From : Mexico  |   School : Maryland

“If I could be reborn, I would have do so years ago. If money could buy happiness I wouldn’t have taken the steps you now spot. If the little girl wasn’t trap deep within herself then maybe, just maybe I wouldn’t be who I’m right now, the person that people see and criticize. What you see is nothing but another empty mask, an empty bottle that seems to not understand the meaning of life. If all I said before was ever heard then maybe I wouldn’t feel like I’m dead, because I’m just another gal who is lost, who suffers every night, who shows feelings she no longer has, who seems to fight, because an angel is now showing her some new light, a warm touch who could save her mind whom is trap in the past.”


To begin with I would introduce myself as “FujoshiiPanda-kun”, this is my name as a writer in a website called Wattpad. I do not wish to tell my name, but I would do so at the very end. By the end of this paragraph you will travel through a journey of mine, from my very early memories to what I have become now. I have gone through a lot but I don’t really feel special at all, nor do I think I’m better than others, what I do know is that maybe my story would inspire others, change their mind sets and even encourage some people. I only ask for one favor, do not judge or criticize just because you were not able to understand what I will tell you now, but you can comment and give me advice. Oh! I’m sure you have notice I use a lot of rhyme, they are no lie, but I’m a poet too and that’s what I do then and now.


I, FujoshiiPanda-kun was born in Raleigh,NC in November 8th 2000. My parents are from Playa Vicente which is a town in the state of Veracruz, Mexico. Yes! they are Mexicans. The 4 years of my early childhood I can not clearly remember, but when I look at the old pictures I looked happy, safe, those memories only give a warm feeling that does not exist anymore. At first I thought my family was perfect, that my life had no holes. From the little I can recall on my own, I was always smiling, doing something, eating food, enjoying my innocence the most. I cannot remember my relationship with my dad at those early years of mine, only my mom. I remember that I will always eat lollipops that I could find in her workplace. I also almost drowning once in the pool that was in front of our apartment, where as my mom told me we lived with some other people, and the lady who saved was like an aunt to me. But now, I tell ya’ll that nothing is perfect, and that what people refer to normal is their own mediocrity, because they are afraid to changes.


When I was still 4 years old, my mom decided to back to her hometown, my dad who knows where he was, so I had to go as well, my cousin Pedro who is younger than me for exactly one month since our birth’s day is on the 8th, tagged along too. I was told many versions like; “your mom was following your dad who didn’t want her” or “she couldn’t handle you alone” and so others ones, by then I didn’t know what was the real reason, but now I know that she was sick and she needed treatment she couldn’t get in the USA, and even after finding out the truth I still feel like that was the beginning of my obscure life and still blame her. When we got to my mom’s parents house, I meet them and I really wish I could just go back and realize what I had at my eyes then, but life is just not always fair. I also meet my uncle Beto, his wife; my aunt Vikky, and their 3 children my cousin Flor the oldest one who currently has 25, is married and has a daughter named Emily,Jose the middle one who is I think 21 and Yuri the younger one who is 2 years older than me and like 7 months pregnant. My aunt Magi, who has a lovely son named Angel who I gave the nickname of “Angello Agapeto” and is 6 years younger than me, and now has another girl whose name is Dana, and she also pregnant, and to add more she’s like in a relationship with this man who has 2 daughters from his previous engagement. My aunt Lupe who is marry with this gorilla macho man, has two children my cousin Lupita and my cousin Gilbert.


Playa Vicente, Ver, Mex. is a beautiful place, there’s no doubt about it and the years that I spended there were awesome, even though it was like really tough I could still feel free, somewhat alive and pain wasn’t just bottle up inside of me like it is now. Anyway my mom stayed with my cousin and me for a year with the whole family of hers. During that time I had one of the most painful memories I can always recall like it was yesterday, but as the saying goes there was a bright side to it. The thing is one day I don’t know why but my mom wanted me to eat soup and I didn’t want to eat it, so she was making me do it, got so tired of her yelling not only to me but her family, they were arguing, she and her brother as usual because in that house there was not a day that could pass by peacefully. So basically I got mad, she was mad already, I snapped and curse at her, she didn’t hit me but she spread “chile habanero” in my mouth and God! At the time I was not a fan of spiciness as I’m now. I don’t know whether she realize she was out of her mind or seem like it, but because I was going to wipe off the fire she put on my mouth she grabbed me real hard by the arm, pull me to the side, sat me on a chair and said “Ni se te ocurra pararte de esa silla hasta que yo te diga. Pinch chamaka!” To me it felt like they flipped my world upside down, from that moment I couldn’t never look at my mom the same way, I was scared, I was hopeless, I was motherless, I was so broken that was not even able to see where all my heart pieces fled to. My grandmother, she came and I saw light, I saw truth, I saw hope, I saw happiness, I saw an angel! She came and help me out, even though my mom scream at her to don’t help me, she did! She put coffee in my mouth with sugar to calm the burn from the chile, but what neither she or me realize was that she heal some of my broken heart. My parents kill the little girl, the adorable human being I no longer remember because she’s just trap in her depression.


My 5th birthday came, and some months later my mom disappear completely from my sight. I still remember the little girl waking up to the sound of the crows, turning her head and finding out she was alone in bed, no mom to be found. She run desperately downstairs asking where was her mom. “She left you”…“You’re an orphan now!”…“Ya no te quiere” Those where some of the responses the lil’ girl heard. Tears stream her eyes, she couldn’t seem to smile, it was like a one of those punches from Saitama, the broken pieces shatter in a land to never be found. Grandmother took her in her arms, in her room, and she became the little girl’s mom at noon. Sometime later my mom called, she was fine I was glad, but I was mad too.


The relationship between my mom continue through phone calls, money, presents she would send; clothing, toys, shoes, etc. I’ve always wonder if my mom thought that by sending all those material stuff she could get me to love her back. I believe that was her way of thinking.My dad was no different, he would also send me presents, he and I would only talk if I look for him. My dad was a coward from the very start but I refuse to believe it, because I was still hoping for things to get better. Ironic!


The environment at house wasn’t the best, it was pretty obvious I was never welcome there. My cousins were mean to me, they treated me bad, my aunt was very strict towards me. “I don’t want to be responsible if anything bad happens to you”, is what she would said. Her husband, my tio also didn’t like me, my grandfather look down on me, I still feel like I was a disgrace for him or a joke. I would get beat up often by my uncle and grandad. You might say that’s domestic violence but if you go to my pueblo, that was the only way to straighten up kids. My other aunt Magi was like a big stupid sister to me, she acted so immaturely and sometimes we will fight. Yes! Like real fight pulling her, scratching and all that, her son was my lovely little brother. I was very protective of him.


I feel like my family from my dad’s side was never a family but a bunch of people who felt the responsibility to talk to me  or hang out with me because I was the only kid of my dad who was female, and well my stepmother only had boys. I don’t think they are part of my world, but the truth is they are, I used to talk to them in some weird ways, but we have lost touch. It doesn’t bother me much but sometimes I missed talking with them, even if they were pretending, I just kind of miss all the fake people I used to know. I miss them even when they don’t miss me. I think I’m very nice for that, and they are very unthankful.


I finish kindergarten where I was a little demon, I would get in trouble almost all the time for hitting, kicking, slapping, boys and well mostly I was very mean to boys. My nickname “La Computadora”, since I was the fastest and something like the smartest in my class was now history. Elementary school past by real fast. I remember my first teacher was cool but she was “La vieja canuta” in person, since she would put her hand on the students who disobey or didn’t do homework and only fool around. I was nice so I never got punished.  Two years before I finish my elementary memories my grandmother felt ill.


At first I was sad, and depress. I was so horrify to lose her, to em she was more than a grandmother, she was my mother. The old lady was the sweetest person I ever met, she spoiled me, we had our fights but we will always make up. She was the only one who could put up with me, she was a real friend! I loved her and will always do so, in my own way, even if people say I don’t because I did wrong to her, I love her and she loves me back.


When I found out she had cancer and she was going to die I was very sad, desperate to keep her alive, but what could I possibly do when I couldn’t even save the little girl I used to be? Nothing! I became angry, angry at the world, at my grandmother, at my mother, at God. I wish for my grandmother’s death because I couldn’t bare to see her destroyed in bed, curling from the pain the chemotherapy gave her, it was just too much for me to handle and i bet it was the double or triple for her.  She was going to die, that was the bottom line, there was no hope anymore. I was mean to her, I buried myself in the Internet looking for distraction, instead of helping her eat or drink something. I turned my back at her when she needed me, I betray her somehow.

My aunt Carmen who lived in Springfield, TN., aboard a place a month before she died. She knew the risk of coming back and cross the frontier but the love of a daughter for her mom was stronger, so she came. My aunt Carmen was like another hope, but doesn’t matter anymore. The night she died, my cousins and I  were awake lying on bed, afraid that if we close our eyes she would be gone and we couldn’t say at least bye. Around 2 in the morning my aunt came to the room and announced it was time. We run like wild animals and saw her agonizing, complaining form the pain, slowly moving. She was just saying bye, bye to her love ones, to her children, to this world that suck, bye to the pain and getting ready to welcome another world, maybe her God!


I drop my shell, uncover my heart. I  held in tears, trembling my grandmother’s hands begging for forgiveness, begging her to stay with me and don’t leave me behind, to please live. All she said was “ I loved you! There’s nothing to forgive, I love you. You’re not alone, everything is going to be fine” I keep crying, I couldn’t smile. “Not again!, Not again”, I would tell myself. I got push around and others made their way to say their goodbyes. Once she close her eyes and her breathing abandoned her lungs I let out screams, more tears, I just couldn’t stop. “Callate chamaka! Ya esta muerta que puedes hacer?”, was what one of my grandmother’s brother said to me.


Elementary school was now also gone. I enter my 1st grade of secundaria which is like 7th grade here in the US. I made some new companion who later almost about to finish the grade turn their back after I open up to them and cried in front of them, at the end they all are fake. Friends do not exist for me, only companions and family. I was determined to make my own family since my family didn’t want me either. In 2013 I travel for 3 or 4 days with some strangers. My butt hurt from so much sitting on the busses. When we made it all the way to North Carolina, I spent one night there and the next day my mom came to pick me up.


When she saw me my whole world kind of like lose its purpose, I was very lost, I couldn’t make any words, or sounds. It all became mute. My mom run towards me and hug me tightly, told me she love me, but I didn’t hug her back. I just couldn’t give her what I never had, I couldn’t feel what was long ago lost. Then I got into the car met my half-sister and like my new adventure began. It was hard, the first month it was all pink and roses since I was pretending. It was so weird. America was not what I remember, the house look lonely, now kids outside, the nature was ugly, in few words America was just not a beautiful place like I believed it was. It was some time after I started school, again 7th grade since here you’re put because base on your age so yeah.


I learned English real fast, because I practiced on my own and study at school so it was easy and hard. Since I came to the USA I earned honor rolls all the time so I was very proud of myself. The problems at my house could never get involved with my academic performance at school. I always make sure to wear the mask I needed to survive. It got real tough in 8th grade, I was tired of all the screaming at house, the beat ups, all the crap. I couldn’t take it anymore so I started cutting and taking pills. At sometime my mom find out, and like 2 weeks before graduating from Middle School I lose it and got overdose. I ended up in emergency and then was transferred to PIW a psychiatric hospital at Washington.


I was in the psychiatric hospital for one month and 2 weeks. It was fun but at the end I got so bored and like I feel like nothing much change or like I didn’t get any help. It was more like a break and well since then I haven’t cut or drug myself with random pills. Not that I could, since my mom is so up straight now, and like even when I was in the hospital all she would said was “ Este es solo un capricho tuyo” (This is just a tantrum of yours). She would say that I was wasting her money and she warned me that if I ever did something as “stupid” as that that I was done. She would put me in a nuthouse or something like that, and like I would never see her again.


Now, I’m just here hanging onto the happy things life is throwing at me, and like I have made family like Angello, and Lil, and well I have other people which I guess I love. I’m still suicidal, but I fight it back. Just the thought of losing what I have or what I have and don’t see frightens me so much. I don’t want to make the same mistake I did with my grandmother. So I’m just going to cherish these memories on move on little by little! At Internacional High School of Largo.


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