A Game of Revenge

Back to Reality

As I walked up the worn down drive-way, I remembered how I first felt when I moved down here. It was just about a year ago when I decided to move down to Chicago and live with my buelita. The incidents of that party plagued me. The whole situation was posted all over social media, and people whispered behind my back everywhere I went. My father took notice of my solemn mood soon enough and demanded I told him what happened. I debated telling him the truth or not, but eventually I felt as though I just needed to talk to somebody.

My father and I have always had a really great relationship ever since my dead-beat mother bailed on us. He practically raised me by himself, and he sacrificed much in doing so. I knew that my father was still heart-broken after my mother's abandonment. It didn't matter how much time had passed, he still loved her, and that still hurt him. My father is the one person in this world I knew would always be there for me, and because of this I decided to tell him the truth about what happened to me.

Once he found out, his first reaction was anger. He has always wanted to protect me, but in this particular situation he didn't know what to do. At first he wanted to contact both Nora's and Dan's parents, but I begged him not to. He then wanted to contact the school, but I pointed out to him that since it didn't happen on school property it wasn't their problem. He was very confused at this point. He sent me up to my room so he could think this through.

The next morning, he sat me down for breakfast and told me he had spoken to his mother- my abuelita. He said she had been infuriated with the whole situation and demanded I must be taken out of it. She asked me to move from my home in North Carolina to move in with her in Chicago. At first, I said no. There was no way I would leave my father all alone in this house, plagued with the memories of his fallen marriage. My dad came up to me and told me that it was not my job to take care of him, it was his to take care of me. He asked me again to move in with my abuelita, and I eventually said yes. I thought it would be a safe haven from all of this dramatic madness.

So here I am, a year later. I have come to love the liveliness and diversity of Chicago, but I will always miss my home-town roots. I miss my papí dearly, but I know it is better for me to stay here in Chicago. I have been here for almost a year now, and I can say I have changed immensely. What Nora and Dan did to me still hurts, but the pain is not as bad. It started out feeling like I was stabbed in the back, but now it feels like ripping off a Band-Aid. The pain is not the same. Kyle has helped me overcome so much and I will always be grateful for him.

Throughout this year with Kyle, he has taught to fuel my anger and sadness into a healthy habit. When he first took me to his gym-Renegade Gloves- I was intimidated, but after a year of dedicated training I have become one of the best kickboxers in the gym. I lost much of my weight because of this. I am toned in places I never thought I could tone, but I have still maintained my Latin curves. I have grown out my hair until it reached my waist. Kyle says I look completely different from the first time he saw me, but he says he likes it.

Overall, my time here in Chicago has been great. I have made many friends. I have become stronger, more confident, and I never back down from a fight. I let Nora and Dan step all over me that night, and I refuse to ever let that happen again. I will make them pay for what they did to me, it is not a matter of how, but a matter of when.

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After a quick shower, I throw on some sweats and head downstairs to help my buelita with dinner. Once dinner is ready we sit down and eat. After dinner my buelita grabs my hand and looks me straight in the eye. "Mija, there is something I've been meaning to talk to you about. I think it's better if we take this conversation to living room where we can sit comfortably."

I was pretty confused by her tone of voice. It gave away that the upcoming conversation would be something serious. As we made our way to the living room, we both took a seat on the couch. She took both of my hands in hers, and opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. She continued to hesitate with her upcoming words for a solid minute. "What is it buelita? You're starting to scare me," I said shakily.

"Alright mija, there is no easy way to say this, so I guess I will just have to spit it out. I need you to move back to North Carolina with your father," she said all in one breath.

"What, why?!" I exclaimed. "That doesn't make any sense. Are you kicking me out or something? Did I do something wrong?"

"No mija, you did not do anything wrong at all. I would love to have you stay here, but the reality of this situation is that you can't. I need you to do a favor for me. Your father told me not to tell you anything, but I think you have a right to know. He might kill me for this but it will be worth it if he makes it out alive..."

"Wait, what do you mean by that buelita?" I beginning to become scared of the conversation at this point.

"About five months ago, you father felt very weak on just the left side of his body. He had mentioned to me that he had begun to have terrible, terrible headaches. He was tired all the time, but you know how stubborn your father is, he refused to go to the doctor. I made him an appointment anyways, and forced him to go. When he got the results back my heart dropped. He did not want to worry you, so he promised not to tell you, but it has gotten to the point I don't think it is safe for him to be alone."

"Buelita what is it? What's wrong with him?" I begged.

"Mija, four months ago your father went to the doctor and they did some tests. They found a mass in the front of his brain. It turned out to be a malignant tumor. They went in and tried to take it, but unfortunately the tumor was too large. He told me that they are currently trying to shrink it down with chemotherapy and radiation, but I'm afraid the entire process is too difficult for him to do alone. I need you there with him Lena, please he won't let me help him but he will have to let you."

I was in shock. I could not move. I felt as though I was frozen in place- and then reality came crashing through the door. I ran upstairs and rushed into my room. I pulled my suitcase out from under my bed. I began to throw all of my clothes into it. I grabbed all my important personal belongings and shoved them in there too. My grandmother did not say a word. She knew how I was feeling, so she just helped me pack. I was numb to everything, at this point I was just acting.

Once everything was packed, I rushed downstairs. My buelita had already called me a taxi. She stood by the doorway and solemnly handed me a ticket. "Mija, I love you. I will always be grateful for you. Please take care of my son for me," she said with tears in her eyes.

I wanted to cry in her arms, like I did when I was a little girl, but I knew if I started the tears would never stop. I hugged her tightly and whispered my goodbye. "I will take care of him buelita, I promise." I whispered.

Then I left then her standing in the doorway and rushed into the cab. I silently said goodbye to this semblance of a life I had built. I watched Chicago pass by me, and rode into the sad reality that was now my life.