Last Episode|Richard Camacho

Chapter 1- the beginning

Rose ~

The first semester of your freshman year of college is always ... eventful. The familiar scent of coffee lingering in the buildings, students rushing to classes, and friendly people who want to make the best of their experience. Telsan university has everything from the lousy pre-adults, fraternities, sororities, parties, and people who want to have fun and get drunk, you know regular shit. I on the other hand don't really plan to engage, I like to keep myself focused and out of the way like I always have been. I am the definition of "minding your business" and in the 2 months that I have been here it has shown to be pretty effective. You see, a mi no me gusta que me jodan. I like to mind the business that pays me and actually get my money's worth because this shit is expensive. When I'm not doing homework or studying, I like to read and write poetry because it keeps me grounded. I don't really like to express my feelings so I prefer to write them down. I consider myself to be a pretty boring person but I really don't care.

Luckily everything has worked in my favor and I can say I feel comfortable with everything so far. My dorm is exactly as I imagined. Spacious and with a beautiful view of the huge garden, it's always hot here in Miami so the garden is always full of flowers. It has a small kitchen with a big fridge, a spacious countertop, and a stove, me and my roommate split the money for utensils and groceries so we don't have to eat outside as much. It also has a big bathroom with a bathtub, two beds with enough space in between them so each of us can decorate as we please, and two big closets. On my side, I decorated it with a Dominican flag (KELOKEEEE), white Christmas lights, and hung up pictures of me and my mom and my dogs, I kept it pretty simple. On the other hand, my roommate Danielle is the real definition of extra. Her side has all sorts of designer, sparkles, and weirdly so, a lot of posters of Harry Styles. I swear her obsession has to be uncanny. Being an only child, I have never shared my room with anyone else but she is super nice and makes me feel comfortable. She is the more outgoing one of us two, she does attend parties and is the social butterfly on the contrary of me. She is very nice and open and encourages me to be more outgoing but also gives me my space which I really love. She is still a crackhead tho but she is wonderful. 

At home, like many people, I was not raised in a healthy environment. My father used to be an extreme alcoholic, all of our income used to be spent on bottles of whisky and prostitutes. My mom was always fearful of saying anything because along with alcoholism he used to beat her. I always remember those times when I was a kid where she sent me to hide with fear that he would put his hands on me too.  As I got older I started to step up for her and defend her whenever he came home in that mood. She never left him because they had been together since they were in high school, she was still hopeful that he would change when he used to come home bringing her flowers and apologizing. Manipulative as fuck if you ask me but they never paid attention to what I had to say because I was "a kid" and I would never understand. I always called that bullshit but whatever, I just wanted to be there for my mom.

That all ended the day he died of an overdose when I was 16, my mom found him dead in the kitchen after one of his usual hungover amnesia mornings while I was in school. After he died she suffered a severe psychological trauma that eventually led her to alcoholism as well.  My dad was my mom's first everything, they were together for 26 years, my dad was the only thing she ever knew, the only person she had been with and it really took a toll on her. She was depressed for years, she would go to work and come back home and drink away her sorrows.  I always felt upset because I felt like she didn't trust me to try to alleviate her pain by talking but then I later understood that she just didn't wasn't me carrying that emotional baggage. I was so numb and tired that when I found out about his death, I really didn't react. I was quiet and didn't shed a single tear. Not that he deserved it anyways her and I and knew that he was better of dead. He treated her like garbage when he knew my mom was loyal and devoted to him. He had died to me the minute I saw him being a piece of shit to my mom.