~Flashback, Eleven year old Santana~
"Are you ready, mija?" My mom asks as she steps into my room.
"Yes, Mami, almost. I just have to grab my violin case. Then we can go!" We smile at each other before we leave the room together.
It's a sunny day with just a few clouds floating in the sky.
My mother and I are on our way to my very first violin competition.
I'm really nervous but also proud. Not everyone is talented enough to be invited to this kind of competition.
"Santana?" - "Yes, Mami?" - "No matter, what happens. I'm really proud of you."
A loud bang sounded through the air as thick smoke wavers around our car. At first I can't comprehend, what's happening but then it hits me.
It hits me when I see my mother lying lifelessly in her seat.
I try to wake her up but nothing seems to work. Tears are spilling from my eyes and it gets harder to see in the remains of our car.
Desperately I shout out loud for my mom to open her eyes, for daddy to come and save us, for something to happen but it doesn't.
Trying to wish away my tears I notice the blood on my hands. Mom's blood.
Panic rises within me as well as sickness. But before I can throw up I pass out.
When I open my eyes again the only thing I see is the colour white. It's really uncomfortable so I close my eyes again only to be surprised by my father's voice.
Quickly I look at him. He tries to smile but fails. He looks like he's been crying for days without sleep, food or a decent shower.
"Mija, how are you?" I can only shake my head.
"How's ... Mami?"
New tears spill from his eyes and he doesn't give me an answer. He leaves the room and doesn't come back for two days.
On the day of Mami's funeral everything goes by like a blur. The only thing that burns into my mind is a picture of Papi drinking this evening and well into the night.
The feeling of absolute terror burns itself into my soul when I realise that he's standing in my door looking at me with eyes filled with so much hurt I can't breath for a moment.
"Papi? What are you doing here?" He takes a step closer. I notice that he still has a bottle full of some kind of alcohol in his hands.
"Why? Santana, tell me... WHY?" Daddy starts screaming now. I hide under my blanket but he rips it away from me.
"WHY? WHY, SANTANA, DID SHE HAVE TO DIE?" We're both crying. This is the first time I am genuinely afraid of my father. I can hear cries from the room next door. My sister.
"I .. I don't know, Papi. We were on our way back but I forgot my .. my ..bow .. and she said it wasn't a problem and we... we can just ... go .. back..." He takes a sip from his bottle then throws it in my direction. I start screaming at the top of my lungs as it bursts right above me.
"So it's your fault then. Why, Santana, why did you do this?" - "I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING, DADDY. I'm sorry." I can only whisper the last part. My dad's demeanour changes completely then. He seems to talk to himself but it doesn't help lessen the guilt that is starting to creep its way inside my body.
"You did this.. you did this.. youdidthisyoudidthisyoudidthis. Why would you leave your bow? You had to notice.. it's just not possible ... How can you be alive and she be dead.. I don't understand, why she had to die and you don't.. It's all your fault after all."
He looks me dead in the eye then. No emotion left. This is the moment I realise that my dad died mere seconds ago.
This night he beats me so hard I black out after the first hit.