Ok soo yay im back with a new ff, and it's a troyella. This story is based on a movie but I cant remember the name…..hmmmm.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own anyone in this story and the plot is sorta mine but idk
Anyways on with the story
CHAPTER 1:
July 10, 2008……..
To the Dean of Admissions,
Princeton University
From Eva MontezI think the most influential person in my life would have to be my mother. No questions. Period. She was the one and only person I could look up to at dark times and give me the light that I needed. Many would ask why and how it came to be, but all I can say is she was there when I needed her the most.
She was more than a mother; she was also my best friend. She never judged me, never singled me out in a crowd, never did anything but love me for the person she raised me to be. To others, they're mothers would be someone other than what I see my mother as. To them, they see their mothers as more of a provider or a caretaker than a significant figure. In my eyes my mother would have to be the one single person that has impacted my life the most.
I think I have been pointing out toward this essay that ever since the day, years ago in Mexico, when my father left, it was an emotional time for both my mom and me. I was six when that moment happened, merely a child. That day when he walked out on us, it showed me a new side to life. A life full of worry, unhappiness, a life without a father. But I always had my mother. She did everything in her power to secure my happiness, despite whatever mood she was in.
That day marked a turning point in my life, the time my life went all down hill from then on. Well at least that's what I believed, until I saw my mother. She was heart broken, terrified, but never let me see. Yet when she looked at me, I could see the hurt and the pain in her eyes. She never wanted to see her like that. Such was my mother's need to protect me, her belief that she would not let me see her cry.
Her trick was get over it as quickly and privately as possible. To not let anyone see the emotional side of her, the hurt and the pain when his name is mentioned. To not show me the battle of emotions that erupts within her as she looks at me, no matter how long its been.
Such was my need to protect her, that I never let on that I could hear her. Crying herself to sleep at nights, regretting the fact that she couldn't give me the life she thought I deserved. But deep inside, the real reason for her misery was the thought of our futures.
My mother kept us in Mexico for as long as possible, to root me in all things Latin. To up hold our culture and traditions within us. Our Hispanic heritage was the only thing that keep us alive. The traditions gave us pride in ourselves, gave us hope and answers. Our community was there every step of the change that went through our lives. My cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents, everyone helped them, supporting their decisions. But my mother felt that our time here was coming to an end. However she consistently pushed the thought further and further.
Finally, she sensed our last opportunity for change. We had to leave for America. Leave behind my life, the only place I knew. The one place I called home. I had to leave my hometown, my friends, my family, my everything.
"One tear."
"Just one."
"So make it a good one," my mother would say the day before we left for the new strange place. I could remember the way we sat on our front porch, looking out at the opened village that lay before us. The way she approached me was honest, gradually, and different. This one time I could actually see the fear in her eyes.
And that's when I realized that she would be my Mexico
Because this admissions essay is open record let me just say that our transportation into the United States was economy class.
In order to raise me properly my mother needed as much of the security of her own culture as possible. As much Mexican as anyone can get. She was looking for the right place to settle down.
A few minutes adrift in an alien environment didn't turn out as my mother planned. Then we turned a corner, and we were right back home. Albuquerque, New Mexico. It was an exact replica of our hometown in Mexico. As you walked through the streets, the smell of spicy Mexican food filtered through your nose. You could hear people speaking Spanish, which put a smile on my face. Mexican music played afar as we made our way to the very last house on the street.
My mother's favorite cousin, Monica, gave us shelter. From the moment we approached her home, she gathered us in. And for the next six years, neither of us ventured outside our new community, finding comfort in our new Hispanic community.
My mother worked two jobs in order to support us. She hated working, especially two jobs. Back in Mexico we lived with our grandparents, and the only job she had was the daily housework and keeping an eye on me. But we left that life once we decided to leave. She had no option but to work those two jobs in silence, getting paid a total of two hundred dollars a week. The income she was getting was not enough to cover all finances, but we managed. Each of us doing everything we could to make things work. We were safe and happy.
But the memories were still with me, never leaving my side. As the days went by and the only thought that would haunt me was a wish. If only I could have stayed six. Life could have been so stress free. And I would still be living in Mexico.
But I was blossoming. And I wasn't the only one who noticed. My mother was quite aware of the kind of woman I was turning into. And during my very first dance, I realized the distress my mother had held within her. In the time it took a boy's hand to go from my back to my bottom it was evident that she would have to leave her night job just to keep a watchful eye on me.
But it wasn't like my mother to go on without a job. Within days, she was on her way to a job interview. She needed more money and in order to find the right job, she would have to leave our comfort zones. Our new home was fading behind us. And that meant, after all her time in America we were finally entering a foreign land.
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Thanks Sam
