La Muñeca

Part 2• Vl

••Song; After dark -Tito •••

JOAQUIN POV

Live wasn't always easy with a mother who was the most fear woman in the world. The cruel world she tried so hard to shelter us from to only live it at home. I went months to years without my mother by my side but I was told every day to be strong and 'She loves you,' was what everyone said.
Even the fucking janitor at my school had some input in my mother's emotions when she wasn't around when I live in a hick town in Florida. As I got older and older secrets unfold right before my eyes. When I was just a child I found out that the man I adore all my whole childhood wasn't my father, to only find out that the man my mother held hands and share random acts of affection was my real father.
My mother never shared any affection toward any man but my real father, the sparkle in her eyes as she stared at him seems too magical. She was like a different person around him but as I got older harsher words spilled out of her mouth.
At times my mother scream, "You are weak," to my father, it made me feel like I was just like him. Weak and a pushover, I was nothing like Henry or my mother.
When I turned sixteen my mother threw me a huge party with tons of associates and my god-father was there as well. That was the day I celebrate my birthday, someone decided to crash my mother's club downtown.

"We have a problem," Perez said before we sang happy birthday. My mother looks at me, "It's time to learn about what we do." My father stood around the corner as we were all dress up with expensive suits and dress he was infamous for wearing blue jeans and a plaid shirt with cowboy boots. My real father didn't fit in our circle, fucking even my father Henry dresses up in a suit every day. As a child, I recall how badass he looked in those suits how when he stepped into a room everyone respected him but not my real father.

People whisper about he's laid back outfits made comments that my mother only kept around as her boy toy. Attractive man he was and that day were no different all the housewives hover around him talking away touch his arm as my mother made her way to make her appearance.

But as my mother and I walk over to him it was like his whole world stop, the woman would continue to speak to him but he would stare at my mother like she was God's greatest gift. That was one of the qualities I love about him, no matter how many women were around him he was just polite but for my mother, she was his world. She rules him and he loves her despite her comments.

My mother and father they were like day and night, She only wore expensive outfits, long black slimmer dress with her hair pin-up and style; almost look like those movies about prom night.

My mother was marvelous looking well groom, my father the Texan hippie what I like to call him with long hair sometimes up to as a bun with cowboys boots was the complete opposite of her and this society-they are two people that didn't fit together but seem to be as one. I knew she loves him deeply no matter how harshly her words could come out but words hurt more than the knives she carried. The memory of that night is engraved into my brain as if it happened yesterday.