My life was not a fairytale. I hated being Latino. I hated it so much. Instead of calling my mother madre and my father papa or padre like I was suppose to, I just called them mother and father. I had 7 siblings, 4 brothers and 3 sisters. There were 8 children in all that lived at our house. My closest sibling's name was Tomas. He was my best friend. Although our other siblings, Daniel, Emilio, Thiago, Sofia, Maria, and Rosa, were lovely, Tomas and I had a special bond. My parents fought a lot, though they stayed together to keep us all happy. We left in a not-so-good neighborhood. Our house had 6 rooms, the bathroom, a kitchen, the living room, my parents room, the boys room, and the girls room. All of the boys shared a room and all of the girls shared a room. I went to a high school that only had 250 students. I did not own a car. I had to walk to school with Tomas, Emilio, and Sofia. It was very embarrassing, especially sense I was a junior. The only thing I had was a handsome boyfriend, Jake. He was the type that would try to buy you and that was something my father loved. We had very little money and when Jake offered me money or something valuable I was told to take it no matter what the cost. Jake was nice to me, but sometimes hit me. What's a little hit though? It's not like it can scar a person? Can it?
