Take Me Home

Chapter 3

He held my face in his hands and looked at me, wiping my tears.

"Diahana, you look just like your mother," he cried. After a while of emotion, we finally sat down at the table.

"You called me Diahana..." I trailed off.

"That's your name."

"I thought my name was Diana?" What I said must have upset him because his eyes lit up with fire.

"Diana? Those putas!"

"Dad, dad calm down," I whispered trying to keep us from drawing attention."Sit down, please."

"Your name is Diahana Benito and don't you forget it," he threatened."I can't believe they changed your name."

"It's fine, now I know," I offered a smile to make him calm down, and he did.

"So..how old are you now?"

"I'm fifteen."

"Oh my god, where have the years gone? I know you have a birthday coming up, March 26th."

"You remembered."

"Of course I remember, you're my little girl," he smiled, stroking my cheek."I meant, young lady. God it's been so long. What are you planning for your birthday?"

"I wanted to have a party, like a quinceanera, but for sixteen."

"Wanted? Why can't you..." he trailed off."Oh, because of me."

"Yeah, I thought about that when I told my friends. Dad, how much longer do you have to be in here?"

"A long time. The only reason I didn't get life was because it was an accident."

"So...you did kill mom?"

A single tear fell from his already red eyes."I did it to protect you."

"I know dad. I just hate that you have to be here so long, I need you."

"I know mija, and I really want you to have your party the way you dreamed even if I can't be there to enjoy it with you."

"I wish it didn't have to be that way." I was still upset, probably even more than before. While I was living with this whole new family with a new identity, my biological father who wanted nothing more than for me to be safe and happy had to rot in this horrible place because of me."Dad, I have a question I've been dying to ask you."

"Go ahead."

"What am I, I mean, I know I have to be Hispanic or something," I said. He laughed for a moment before answering my question.

"I am Colombian, your mother, is Native American which makes you a Native Colombian."

"Well that makes sense," I said sarcastically." That's why I'm so tan."

"Your mother was the same," he laughed."That's what makes you so much more beautiful. You know, when I met your mother, she even had to teach me how to speak English."

I laughed."How were you able to communicate before then?"

"Your mom took Spanish when she was in high school. She didn't know much, but it was enough."

"She did a good job then."

"Well I've been here over twelve years, and in preparation for this day, I've been taking English classes."

"I'm really proud of you dad."

"As I am of you Diahana. How's school, you must have a lot of friends?"

"Yes.....and a boyfriend," I said slyly. He just paused and looked at me for a moment. His expression was blank and it made me nervous.

"Tell me about him, he treat you good," he said finally.

"Yes he does. His name is Steven, and we've known each other since kindergarten but we just recently started dating. He wants to be a doctor in the future, he's really sweet."

"I'm glad to hear it. You know, it's so hard to accept how old you've gotten, it's like I missed a really big chunk of your life that I can never get back. I really missed you."

"I missed you too dad."

"Times up you two," the guard chanted. My dad and I said our last goodbyes and I love yous.

"Make sure you write me, and I'll call you whenever I get a chance," he said before embracing me once more.

"I will."

The drive back home was pretty silent for a while, and it seemed like there was a new build of tension between Josie and I. I decided to break the silence.

"How did you know where my dad was?"

"I've always known, since the day you were given to me. I knew the moment you arrived that the day would come where you'd ask me about your parents. I only knew as much as child protective services would allow me to know, that your mother was killed and your father was in prison. I didn't need to know more because there are some things that need to be told from a first person's point of view. I couldn't tell you what happened to your parents without telling you the full story but only your father could do that. As soon as we dropped you off at school I was on the phone. It turns out that cps had been waiting for the day just as I did."

"Thank you mom."

"No thank you, you deserved to know where you came from." I smiled. All along I had been afraid to ask about my parents in fear that I'd cause guilt to Josie. Even though I had lost my real mom, I'm glad I have a great mother like Josie. I never asked her why she changed my name because I knew her intentions were good, and I didn't really care to know why.

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It doesn't hurt to know where you came from.