The Weak Eye

My name is Cecilia Moore, I'm 16 years old. I come from a family, that pretty much makes me feel like the alien of the family the weird one, despite the fact that I'm adopted of course, and that I have Mexican roots. My biological mom gave me for adoption in the USA because she got stuck in prison trying to cross the bridge with me. I was only 2 years old when that happened. I remember crying for months. What makes me even weirder is my weak eye. Basically my right eye is misplaced, and its just a mess.

To this day I visit my mom once a month and she always tells me stories about my "abuela"(grandma) and that she used to say that my weak eye was my powerful eye. It had sometime of power yet to discover. I used to believe that but I stopped believing it when I was ten. Even though last week something strange happened at the living room. A vision as I describe it. Something hazy but yet that something was willing to be seen.