We've stopped for the night after fifteen hours on the road from Mexico City to Tampico. We ate a can of corn and one of the beef jerky bags for dinner, and each drank a water bottle today. The rationing plan is working out well. We set up the tent in a patch of forest, and María's afraid that there are bears. I assured her that there aren't any this close to the road, but she's still awake, staring off into the bushes. Maybe I'll tell her a story.
XOXO, Clara
YOU ARE READING
Home of the Brave
Short StoryImmigrants are often viewed as waves of unwanted citizens. You don't see their faces or hear their stories. Read from the journal entries of Clara, a sixteen-year-old crossing Mexico at an attempt to cross the U.S. border with her friend Larrana and...
