Chapter 1
I've always been the type of person to constantly have up this guard, this wall if you want to call it. In my head it was about 7 feet tall and 30 feet wide, absolutely impossible to break or climb over. You had to be pretty damn determined to make it over to the other side. Very rarely anyone got into the area I call my own; there are numerous of reasons for it. But every time I let someone over my barrier it always turned out terrible for me.
I describe myself as turtle, go ahead laugh if you will but it's true. I give off this impression of being a hard shell, cold-blooded creature but when on the inside I am the complete opposite. Extremely seldom does anyone see that side of Santana Lopez.
I had to grow up fast as a child; I had to mature faster than any of my friends, I had to take care of myself and my younger brother without any guidance and I had to teach things to myself that your parents should have taught you. So needless to say I established this adult persona about me at a very young age.
When I was just starting to understand what the Earth was all about and what it means to live that is when everything went downhill for me. My parents Maria and Antonio were married for 26 years; they were high school sweet hearts so to speak. Once I was born my father didn't do anything to help out my mother. When I say he didn't do anything, I mean he did nothing. My mom was the one to cater to me, change my dippers, bathe me, feed me, wake up in the middle of the night to help me with nightmares or any other problems I had, she also provided me with anything else I needed as a child. While my ignorant father sat his ass on the couch watching sports and drinking a beer probably high as the highest kite can fly in the sky.
5 years later nothing changed, he was still the same possibly worse than before. My mom had enough of his unemployed attitude and his drinking problem. She warned him plenty of times, she told him to get his act together because they were expecting another child. Then my brother came into the world, he was the best thing to ever happen to me. My brother was named Carlos because it means "being a man" something my father never was. My father wasn't even there for the birth of my baby brother. He denied him and he was certain that my mother was sleeping with her co-worker and his best friend David. My father was a prick that way. How can someone as sweet and generous as my mother go behind my father's back after 26 years of marriage and sleep with his best friend? Something was clearly wrong with him. So once Carlos came home from the hospital my dad didn't even open his mouth, he packed up his belongings and left. And he never came back. It has been the 3 of us ever since then.
I just started kindergarten and I absolutely hated every aspect of it; hated trying to socialize with other kids, hated being on a strict schedule and learning about stupid things. I remember once my father left that is when that wall went up, higher than ever before. The only person I ever let in was my baby brother Carlos.
One day my mom dressed me in this beautiful new purple dress she just bought me, she did my hair in a half up and half down style I thought I looked really cute. It was time for recess and this annoying kid Markus was really getting on my nerves. I was playing by myself in the sand box, as per usual. At first he kept flicking sand at me with his yellow shovel and I asked him to stop, he obviously didn't so I told our teacher. He didn't like that too much; he got in trouble and got sent to stand with his nose facing the wall for 5 minutes. When Markus's punishment was over he came over to me and poured a bucket of sand on my head and he ripped my new dress. This is when I went all Lima Heights on this kid. (I didn't determine the name until later on). He was wearing cargo shorts and a Hawaiian tee-shirt with socks and sandals; can you say nerd alert? But anyways, I grabbed onto his shorts and pulled them down to his ankles along with his underwear, which turned out to be tighty whities. I also took his shirt and pulled it over his head. Kinda like hockey players do when they fight each other on the ice, I learned it from watching hockey with my father. Then I kicked him in the back and he landed face first in the sand box. Then I ran inside the school. I didn't want to deal with anyone, just wanted to be by myself. I reminded myself of my ignorant father, which wasn't the best feeling in the world.
My teacher eventually found me in the corner of the classroom curled up crying. She didn't punish me, which was surprising. Miss Moore told me that my mother told her about my at home situation and that is why I was acting out. I really didn't care that she knew I was just scared that she was going to give me some sort of special treatment. I didn't need that; I needed to be treated like a normal 5 year old girl at this school and in this society. From that point on none of the students really bothered with me. I guess from that event with Markus I was a little intimidating. I enjoyed it, being left alone, having my own time, no one to depend on but myself. I was really young to be thinking like this, but can't blame me when my parents split up because my father was the biggest douche bag ever. I couldn't trust anyone but myself.
I went on the rest of my elementary school years being labelled as the "bitch" Burchmount Public School. I had all the students respect, and even teachers. No one wanted to mess with Santana Lopez. When I walked down the halls the students parted to either side. It gave me this incredible feeling inside. It felt like I meant something in this world even if I had to be an absolute bitch and treat people like shit I would do it. Like I would never be a Lima Loser like my father, which was my only goal in life.
I finished public school with barely passing grades because I really didn't give a fuck about them. All I wanted to do was be respected and that took a lot of work out of me.