Welcome to My World

𝑺𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝑬𝒄𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒔𝒚

Andrés Straits

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The salty scent of the ocean wafts to his nose as the waves reach for his ankles with their foamy palms. The sand presses into the earth with every step he takes. The horizon expands as far as the eye can see. But the sight is familiar. The boy has grown up beside it, after all. The waves' repetitive beck and call are a lullaby that eases his worries. Well, as many worries as a nine year old is able to have. It is always there. Constant. Reassuring. Home. Such is the enchantment of Peru's shores that would keep him entranced for years to come.

But the Fates are notorious for sparing no such mercy. Not out of malice, or entertainment; it just is. Andrés' future was no different. For the first few years of his upbringing, all he knew was his city. The routes and corners are no less familiar than the back of his hand. Every Sunday, a kind man, with eyes that rivaled the sea's crystal blue shade, and a smile framed by lines that carried the weight of his years, would sit under an umbrella with a small stand full of ice cold popsicles. Camila would roll her eyes while reluctantly buying one for her son. It always had the taste of grape with a hint of too much artificial sugar. And just a few blocks down was his closest friend. Inseparable, practically brothers, they would run to the park during summer afternoons. They played until their brows were covered in sweat. Or until the wind carried their mother's voices, calling them to return home for supper.

Peaceful is what it was. Though his father was never present, the boy was far too young to care about such things. Not when every day was a chance to run out and kick sand in the air while laughter rumbled in your chest. But soon, another fellow snuck his way into their small paradise. Andrés stood behind his mother, watching how her lips curled upwards and her index finger twirled her dark locks of hair.

"Hector," he heard.

The next few months turned into a collection of memories that blended together into a blurry sequence of tears, last minute good-byes, and the faint trace of warmth left from a tight embrace. In the blink of an eye, Andrés, having turned nine a few months ago, sat in a plush chair. Beside him was a large window that revealed the mysteries of the sky, with its fluffy white clouds and mesmerizing pastel shades that reigned over the earth. He could barely hear his mother's voice over the sound of a machine whirring.

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"Welcome to New York!"

Andrés dropped his suitcase by his side as he took his first steps into the apartment. Gone were the vibrant decorations that his grandma knit and hung on his walls. The sleek windows created a view of the bustling city. Blinding car lights, relentless honking, and the chatter of crowds pushing through the sidewalks greeted him. Despite all the noise, a hollow emptiness snaked its way into his heart as the ocean's melody was silenced forevermore.

On the other hand, Hector and Camila were more than thrilled. A city overflowing with opportunities, a saving grace from Peru's worsening economy, sparked hope for the future. And in the following months, they tried to transition the child into his new life. The young boy greeted a multitude of faces, ones which he could never quite memorize the names of, no matter how many times he heard them. Confusing vowels and indecipherable words were muttered all around him. It wasn't until he sat in a stuffy, cold classroom, with a large textbook called "ENGLISH 101," that the fog lifted. But no matter how vast his vocabulary was, it never took away the loneliness that began to ache his weary bones.

New York was nothing like Peru, after all. Different slang, different games, and even different etiquette created a rift between him and his classmates. In elementary, attempts at lifting the mood or cracking a joke were met with head tilts and furrowed brows. Others smiled, but their eyes never squinted the same way they always would when greeting other children. He stood at the very edges of crowds and circles of friends, existing but never fully acknowledged. Inside jokes that were murmured among them were mysteries to him. His laughs were lifeless, forced and broken with desperation. Even his own mother, who would cradle him under the stars and whisper promises of comfort, no longer held him so dearly. Camila and Hector frequently left at sunrise and returned at sundown, working almost every day.

If only he could lose himself in the cool touch of the sea once more.

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The sting of alcohol makes his eyes tear up. Tan fingers firmly hold onto a cotton ball, rubbing it onto the crimson wound that follows the curve of his cheekbone. Harsh scoldings, sharpened with anger, roll off his mother's tongue. But they don't pierce through his thoughts. Andrés, now on the edge of thirteen, soon to be fourteen, sits on the toilet lid. His gaze lazily shifts toward the tainted mirror. Camila's knuckles are white. Eyebags and dull markings, slowly built up over the years, riddle her face. And now, her eyes hold the glimmer of exhaustion and disappointment that Andrés has become too familiar with. Yet, whenever she looks at him, bruised and beaten after getting into one of many fights, she sees her first love staring back at her.

"Where am I from? Who's my dad? No, not Hector-my dad. Will we ever return home?"

With age came questions. And he had plenty. No longer a meekly nine-year-old, his isolation had sparked an unspoken yearning. A calling. It was not long until Camila was pestered with the same handful of questions over and over again. But who could blame him? Every time he asked her, her lips pursed into a thin line and her fingers pinched his cheek. Over and over again.

With age also came middle school. It was no better than elementary. The lonely child planted a seed of rejection that blossomed through his early teen years. It continued to claw at his mind, making its way into his reflection in the mirror and chipping away at his self-esteem. With no one to turn to, Andrés indulged himself in the thrill of recklessness and ensuing chaos wherever he went. Sneaking out in the black of night, rowdy class distractions, a tongue that worked quicker than his mind, and frustration that spilled like spoiled wine when he least expected it all contributed to detentions, punishments, arguments, and splitting headaches. But he would never tire of it. It was a vicious cycle, because it gave him the attention and joy that he's been starved of for far too long.

Soon after, on the night of his 14th birthday, Andrés would be granted his wish.

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The grass rustles in response to quick, thoughtless footsteps that trample all over it. The moon's presence is almost motherly. Her unyielding glow, the only comfort Andrés has among the deafening silence, illuminates the tangled mess of trees ahead with a soft, silver glow. Camila's words, wrapped up in a haunting shriek of fury, rings in his ears. No other thoughts. No exact goal in sight. Only the feel of dirt beneath his feet as his chest burns with frantic gasps for air. The only trace left of him back home is the hushed movement of curtains that rise and fall with night's breaths.

Some may have called his sudden choice stupid, foolish, even. Any teenager who wanders into a forest at such an hour is bound to a death sentence. But a pair of emerald pupils took death's place and approached him, instead. Her small nose pressed onto the side of his leg, taking in his peculiar scent as those pointy ears twitched in curiosity. Andrés, with a wave of relief washing over him, knelt to take a closer look at the gentle feline. Perhaps he was not the only one lost in such a huge world. However, in an instant, a raspy 'miau' broke the silence before the black furball rushed away from him.

For whatever reason, Andrés found himself chasing her. His lungs began to wheeze after a seemingly endless marathon, but he pushed himself. Further. Deeper into the woods. Slowly, finally, cheery tunes and smoky scents came into view. Rhythmic strumming of a guitar and lively clapping welcomed him to the world of magic, myths, and wonder. Little did he know that the clever kitten, soon to be named "Lulu," would become his lifelong ally. And perhaps he'd finally discover what his role is in this universe.