The sun burned over the dried-up field as it slowly set, casting a shadow across the school grounds as it slowly set. With the breeze still, it welcomed the loud screeches of cicadas. On the school baseball field, I swung my bat rhythmically. Each strike made a loud swish sound, making sure every hit was at full strength. The dried-up grass had an earthy scent as the wind carried it along with the dust from the ground. In the distance, chattering can be heard from several students that hung out at the bleachers, talking about their day or giggling with each other. They all minded their business while I took over the field for the moment. As the sun crept into its slumber, everything appeared redder and redder, complimenting the incinerating weather. My muscles ached with each stroke as well as my lungs that gasped for a sample of air. I had already forgotten what number of swings were made, but it didn't matter. Sweat was soaked all over me, dripping from the bottom of my chin and jawline. It was the only thing trying to cool me down from my frustration. With a black eye, my face and arms were covered with bruises and bandages. Huffing, I kept on swinging, letting out the rest of the fire inside. A student aid kid approached me abruptly, holding a small note. Using the bottom of my baggy striped shirt, I momentarily wiped some of the sweat off the sides of my face and neck. The freshman notified me that the principal was waiting for me at the office, along with my mother. From hearing the news I frowned and spat out a flem to the dirt. Kicking a small rock and dragging my bat along the ground, I left the suffocating terrain and headed over back to the main building of Gravesfield High.
I sat in the lobby, waiting and waiting, knowing well enough of what was being discussed on the other side of the wall. A couple of periods ago, during lunch, I had a fight with another student because of them trying to buck up with me. They tested my patience by attempting to cancel me out from my peers by bringing up past shit they remembered about me during middle school. Back then I was really into anime and cartoons, specifically 'The Good Witch Azura' and a lot of folks made fun of me for it. The senior rambled on how I would sometimes wear an Azura hat and shout outlines and references with an action figure in hand or how I used to peel my eyelids back to scare the rest of the class like a freak. It was irritating how something so simple and innocent could be seen as something out of the ordinary. Especially since I was only fourteen years old at the time. Being reminded of the neverending ridicule, I retaliated at them. Of course, they fought back and like a coward used their friends to number up against me. Initially, I didn't want to fight them personally, yet I couldn't stop myself from swinging a punch. Guilty of bloodying their nose, I hesitated. That's when I got jumped and beaten down easily. I didn't mean for any of it to happen, honestly I never really liked fighting, but they asked for it by poking the sleeping tiger with a stick. Even though I was ganged up, the one that got in the most trouble was me; especially when the senior's mother got involved later on when they called her, and she was pissed. So here I am, waiting in a dusty-ass lobby for the backlash to unravel on my own mother to be over. I wish it was me in there instead of her. It was my fault, to begin with.
After an hour of a long discussion between the principal, my mother, and the broken-nosed student, along with their nagging mother, Mami got out of the office and closed the glass door quietly. As she shut it, the petty grievances of the Karen could be heard until the handle clicked the door closed. Softly gripping the strap of her purse, she sighed. When she turned around to look at me, I could see the brown, dark pools in her eyes grow solemn. It pained me to see her like this. "Come on mija, let's go home…" She whispers quietly as she rubs my back, making her way towards the exit. I get up from my seat and follow her out of the lobby. Walking down the stairs of the front of the school building, I hung my head low, hoping that she didn't have to see my face like a little kid. Sick to the stomach from nervousness, I could sense her frustrations and her sadness, so I kept quiet the entire time we made our way to the car.
On the drive home, we both stayed silent. There wasn't really anything to say and we were still absorbing all that had happened but in completely different ways. I rested my face on my hand, leaning onto the car door and spacing out into the window; angry and ashamed. We passed by the Gravesfield Historical Society museum; an old building that's been around for who knows how long with a monument across from it of two men that founded the town itself. Next to the monument was Robin's Roast Cafe. In the past, my mother and I would go over there to grab some sweets and during Christmas time some hot chocolate. I still remember the frosting mustaches I would get on my face and my mother would get some on hers, making us both laugh at the silliness of the act. Those days were full of innocence; warm and bright. Growing up, I would have had no idea that everything would have fallen into this. That goofy kid that would sometimes run into trouble but still managed to make Mama smile was now a punk teenager clad in piercings and baggy clothes, angry at the world like any edgy adolescent. I accepted what I had become, but it has only made it more difficult for her, and I have been beginning to regret it from time to time. Mami kept her eyes on the road but shared the same stilled air. Knowing how she felt, I didn't want to cause an argument or complain. I could tell that she was blaming herself and with all that she had been through to take care of my sorry ass, the best thing to do was to let her feel what she needs to feel and to not be more of a burden on her shoulders. Today I only added more weight and I was for sure going to hear what was on her mind when I got home.
We had finally made it to the house as Mami pulled her car into the driveway. Our home was a two-story house painted white with grey shingles. It wasn't very large, especially in comparison to the thick forest behind the building. It was an older house, but my mother has done her best to keep it in good shape as much as possible, despite the fact, there were some spots where the white paint started cracking or peeling off in some areas. It was already dark out, so it was a little hard to see at first unless given a closer look. After Mami unlocked the door, we both walked inside. As she was putting her keys away and setting down her purse, I immediately went upstairs to my room. Needing space from the situation for the moment, I shut my door and plopped onto my bed, throwing my school bag on the floor. Back against the bed, I sighed heavily, hoping for at least some pressure to get off of my chest. I rubbed my face out of frustration as I tried to relax my nerves. When I began moving my hands off my face, I started looking around my room. My bed was on the right, the backside of the room, so in front of me was a bookshelf full of old manga (for some reason I refuse to get rid of), and in front of that a nightstand with a lamp, a book, a cup of water, and a couple of scrap papers here and there. On top of the bookshelf were framed photographs of myself when I was a kid. One of them had me during my crazy hairdo phase, another when I began getting into 'The Good Witch Azura,' and one of when I was about 14 years old that looked more casually photographed than the others. A bittersweet half-smile crept on my face, recalling my younger years in my mind. As I was daydreaming about the recollections, the familiar book on my nightstand caught my eye. Leaning over my side, I reached out and carefully grabbed the book from the nightstand. I had forgotten I was beginning to reread the Azura series. Of course, before I had to finally get rid of the older stuff in my room. Tracing my fingers along with the cover, I looked at the artwork on the front of it. There was an image of Azura along with a couple of side characters, above them its title, and the author's name below them. The condition of the book was worn down since it was a couple of years old and I used to read it nonstop, but it was still together in one piece. I began to recall a book report assignment I had, and I used the first volume of 'The Good Witch Azura.' Instead of a proper essay, I had brought an Azura action figure, two living snakes from the forest outside my house, a taxidermy figure of something close to a griffin; a pigeon head on a cat's body with live spiders that crawled out of its mouth. Inevitably, I got into trouble because the snakes started attacking some of the students, along with my English teacher, which got me sent to the front office to have the same awkward conversation with my mother and the principal of the school. After that, I had to enroll in Reality Check Summer Camp, which was the beginning of the end. There I had learned a very important lesson, which was that I needed to change myself in order to survive. The thought of my past made me wonder once again why it had all led up to this moment and who I had become. That fantasy-loving girl, so innocent and so bright, was gone and all I could see from the looking glass was a beat up and bruised, raccoon-eyed, hobo-outfit-chosen, pissed-off teenager. I knew the answer but in the end, it was all my decision, but no one can blame me for who I am today. I'm covered in bandages and my knuckles are cracked, of course, there's no doubt I've gotten to the point of handling assholes physically. It was the only way to shut them up at that moment. I hate having to raise a fist. I wish I could have used my hands to shake a friend's hand or to play a game of catch with someone, or whatever contact friends do. If only I knew how it felt, then maybe I wouldn't have to use these fists for defense. Tired of overthinking, I put the book down, sighing. I began to close my eyes afterward and slowly succumbed to sleep, hoping that when I woke up the world would finally disappear.
About half an hour later, I was woken up from the shouting of my mother downstairs, "La cena está lista!" Groggily, I got myself off of the bed and crept my way downstairs. Along the way to the dining room, I saw my mother putting together our plates, as well as grabbing some forks. Not to disturb her, I shuffled over to the dining room and sat down at the table. Mami brought over our plates from the kitchen and placed them down on the table. As she was putting mine down, she smiled faintly. "I made you maduros," she sweetly commented, attempting to lighten the atmosphere, "They're your favorite." Mami put her hand under my chin, almost squeezing my cheeks, like if I were still a little kid, before heading over to her seat. Out of courtesy, I responded with a slight smile.
Supper was quiet and awkward. Every now and then Mami would mention something she thought was funny at the vet like how cats jump at the sight of cucumbers or squirrels going crazy and making a mess, anything to lighten the mood or break the silence. There was a point where there was absolutely nothing, leaving an empty space between us. I could tell she really wanted to say something about what had happened earlier today, but I didn't know when. From looking at her anxious eyes, I figured that something was behind her intent. Mami always tries to make sure that everyone in the room is smiling, and that's one of the things I love her for, but sometimes that leads her to hide certain things; refraining from being straight to the point or even blunt. She's not one looking to hurt anyone's feelings, it's who she is. The air suddenly changed as soon as she spoke as I was thinking, "So, about today…" I mentally braced myself for what was going to be said. She noticed my mannerisms and tried to keep her tone as soft as possible, "As I was talking with the principal, I thought of something that could help you when it came to school and your education." From the very mention of school, I knew exactly where this was going. I kept praying to myself in my head that the outcome of this conversation is going to be like last time's situation when I was fourteen years old, before being sent to that summer camp. "Well, since you're finally a senior in high school, I thought it would be helpful for you to take a college readiness course," Mami continued, "I know it sounds much but mija, we both know that college is creeping up and you need to decide on what you want to do for yourself."
I hesitated with an answer, "I don't know mom…"
"Probando e que se guisa," she suggested, "I think it would really be in your benefit, and who knows, maybe you'll find something that meets your interests like drawing or writing."
Looking back down at my plate of meduros, I fumbled around with the fruit, using my fork. "Yeah but, let's be honest, do you really see me doing anything that is relevant to institutions." I tried to remind her, "We all know I can't just stay into one subject, and it's hard imagining what I want to spend the rest of my life doing when there are much more enjoyable things to do instead of just staying in the same miserable cubicle."
Mami grew more and more concerned with my answers. I tried to show her that I still care about my future, but I didn't want it to do it her way or anyone else's way. She sighed and pulled out a flyer from her pocket, handing it over to me. I took a look at the cover of the brochure, trying to contain the fluttering feelings growing inside. She continued talking about how the system works and how it would affect my GPA, giving me a better opportunity towards the most revered universities like Harvard, Duke or Brown, etc. Blankly staring, I started to feel my blood boil. One side of my mind was reminding me that all she ever wants is the best for me, but the other is screaming for all of this to stop. As she progressed on the subject, I couldn't hold myself any longer. "Can you stop it with the stupid summer camp bullshit!" I shouted angrily. Mami jumped in surprise from my outburst, dropping a maduro from her fork onto her plate. The room became completely silent as if time had stopped. I grit my teeth, seething internally. Breaking the silence, I began ranting, "All it ever did for me was make things worse and even more difficult!"
Mami looked down shamefully. I could tell she was trying to find a way to explain herself without pissing me off any further. "You know I only did what I thought was best for you…" she replied with her tone growing more and more remorseful. Her attempt only angered me even more.
"What's best for me?!" I retaliated, "That so-called good you ever did for me only shoved me more into the wolves and made little me realize that nobody gives a flying fuck, no matter how many times I have to change myself!"
"Cariño, I understand your position… It's confusing and figuring things out in life isn't an easy task, but you must find a path for yourself." She paused for a moment and then sighed, "We can't keep going on like this over and over again..."
Hearing those words hurt like hell, but I couldn't help but feel betrayed. Tears started to form and pool in my eyes as I grit my teeth. Biting my lip, I began speaking aloud, "The one person I thought that accepted me for who I am…" My throat began to close up from holding myself back from crying. The expression on her face was covered with an intense nervousness. She knew what I was going to say but didn't know how. I continued anyway, "You're just like all of them, always wanting to change me..." I choked out, "Mami, you don't understand, you never will because unlike you I don't fit in the box like everyone else, and you know that well enough…" The tears in my eyes began to fall. Even though it was hard to see through my clouded eyes, I could see Mami's eyes widen, not knowing how to respond. All I wanted to hear from her was that it was going to be alright or that I don't have to pretend to be like someone else or that we can finally leave this dump, but she only stood in shock. The silence made the pain in my heart grow. Please say something Mami, please recognize me… I thought to myself, I don't want to hurt you any further either… Still, there was silence. It was quiet but there was still the constant buzzing in my head, louder and louder until it clouded my thoughts. Biting my lip hard and gripping my fists, I impulsively left the room, leaving the house to outside. I didn't look at Mama's face as I made my way out, but if I had, it would have broken the both of us.
I made my way into the woods, making sure I wasn't too far out, but enough to keep a distance. Wiping my face from sobbing grossly, I sat down by a tree, curling myself into a perfect fit in its wedges. There was a deep feeling of abandonment growing inside as I continued struggling to exhale the emotions welling up in my chest. My mind kept screaming thoughts I wish I could describe. It had broken my heart how she still could not understand the pressure she put on me and how monotonous those words have become. She's supposed to be the one person in my life that loved me for who I am, and that discussion proved otherwise. Unbearably so, I didn't know who to run to anymore. The aggravating loneliness only made the borders I had in place harden. Caressing my diminishment, the night wind was the only loving touch that had graced me. I held onto myself, shivering from my uneven breaths, hoping at least someone or something would just hold me in its arms, or at least show its affections. There was no doubt Mami still loved me, but it still hurt like hell what she had done.
A few minutes passed, maybe an hour, and I layed there alone. The air was calm and cool, and the grass below me was crunchy and dry but was softer with its purpose than the roots of the tree kneading the ground. I began figuring that I needed to stay away from the house tonight, so I made my way past the two large rocks in front of me, revealing a man-made path where grass didn't grow. Following the trail, I made it over to a broken-down "secret hideout." The hideout was a little treehouse that Mami and I put together when I was about eleven years old. Whenever I wanted to make a getaway with my imagination, I would go back here. I began to recall the times I pretended to be a pirate, or a knight battling a fearsome dragon to save a prince or princess, and many other storylines I created for myself. They were bittersweet memories, but now I return here to make a getaway from the world itself. Instead of looking for a good time or for some fun, I'm looking to be left alone with myself. Climbing up to the hideout, I wiped my nose from the snot dripping down from my sobbing, using my sleeve. I made my way to the corner of the little treehouse, using my jacket as a blanket. Out of mental exhaustion, I began falling asleep.
Morning crept into the neighborhood with the sunshine hitting my face from the crack of the old treehouse. Twitching my face, I slowly woke up. Noticing my surroundings, I spoke to myself sarcastically, "Great, I'm back here again…" Stretching my shoulders and arms, I belted out an irritated yawn. My body felt sore from my baseball swinging session from the day before, and from the fact, I literally had just slept on old, ridged wood. I didn't want to leave the hideout, but I had to check on my mother, despite how angry she had made me beforehand. Just knowing that she's at least okay is enough. Jumping down from the ledge of the window, I carefully landed on the crunchy leaves and dead grass below. The morning air left a small chill down my spine, making me shudder for a moment. Seeking some form of warmth, I started making my way back home.
Acting as if I was returning home from a 3 am party, I carefully opened the back door. Peeking from the entrance, I looked around to see if my mother was still there. From my observations, she was nowhere to be seen on the first floor. Sighing in relief, I welcomed myself fully back inside. I closed the door quietly and headed over to the kitchen, hoping to get something to eat. When I was about to open the kitchen fridge, I noticed the pink page hanging on the front of it by one of my bi-pride-colored magnets. The note on the page stated:
Buenos Dias mi amor,
Unfortunately, I have been called early for work this morning. I left you some empanadas in the fridge for you to warm up. I know things have been tough for you and I'm sorry. When I come back from home, maybe we can watch one of those anime cartoons you like for old times' sake.
Date brillo cadenita que tu mojo llega,
~Mami
I tried to hold in the lump in my throat and let go of the fridge door handle. Feeling ashamed and regretful, I hurried my way upstairs to my room. When I had gotten to my room, I took a quick look at my alarm clock, checking the time. Initially, I was worried about if I was late for school or not, but instead, I felt that I shouldn't go back to Gravesfield High for the day, especially after breaking the nose of a student. If I had shown my face, there would be even more ridicule than before. Disliking the thought, I frowned and let out an irritated sigh. I looked around the room to see what I could do for the day, taking advantage of the opportunity to play hooky. Peering at my shelf, I discovered my polaroid handheld camera. My face lit up in interest and I picked it up. I had decided to go exploring around the back forest and take some pictures of it and hopefully catch some animals along the way. Excited by the idea, I grabbed my bag from my bed and put the camera strap over my neck, hurrying along downstairs, then left the house in haste.
A few hours passed as I got deeper and deeper into the woods. I knew my way around, so I never got lost. Especially since I used my bag of colorful canicas to mark my path. With the clicks of my camera, I had made beautiful shots of ferns, ivy wrapping the trees, mold forming on rocks, colorful mushrooms, and many other forms of plants. Being surrounded by nothing but nature brought me peace. I was away from the stresses of modern life and feeling as if I was going back to my roots. In Connecticut, we have thick and gorgeous forests full of thick vegetation. During the fall is when the trees really show off their vibrant oranges, reds, and bright yellows. Since it was summer, the leaves are a deep green color for the time being. Despite its regularity, they still made astonishing photos. As I kept snapping pictures and stuffing the photographs into a binder, I eventually heard a deep, bassy sound of a creature. I stood still, preventing me from generating sounds from the crunching of sticks or leaves below my feet from moving. Hearing the call again, it came to my attention that I had been hearing the hoots of an owl. It was strange why I had been hearing it during the day, but I had to take the opportunity to hopefully snap a photo of it. Owls are particularly gorgeous birds and being able to have the chance to catch one made me burn with excitement. I carefully followed the sound, making sure I didn't make any loud noises. Forgetting to drop some of the canicas, I pressed forward, fixated on finding the mysterious bird. Approaching the call, I had finally made my way to its source. On the branch of a sturdy pine tree rested a perching brown owl. From a distance, I tried to make out which species of owl it was, but it seemed to be probably a spotted owl or pygmy owl. It was difficult to determine what it was, but I was more concerned with taking a good photo of it. Raising my camera, I began zooming in on the owl, holding my breath with anticipation. Before I could snap a photo, it looked directly at me and flew away. Impulsively I whispered, "Damn it!" I hurried over its direction of flight, hoping that I would encounter where it had perched. Going deeper and deeper into the forest, I scouted around for the avian creature. Attempting to scope it out, I used my camera's zoom function like binoculars. Instantly, I had finally caught a glimpse of it. "Gotcha…" I said under my breath. As I zoomed out to get the lens into proper focus, I noticed the scenery behind the owl wasn't that of natural greenery. There was a small abandoned house sitting on the earth, almost as if it had appeared out of nowhere. By its architecture, it seemed to date back to the 1600s or something; early colonial perhaps. Lowering my camera, I covered it over with its case and approached the house out of curiosity. Creaking with each step, I climbed up the porch stairs. The wood was so termite-ridden and oldy that I was afraid it would eventually break under my feet. On the wooden railway, there were etched letters on it. I squinted to make out what it had said and read aloud, "Wittebane…?" I had no idea what the word meant, but I assumed it was the family name of the people who had previously lived in the house. Shrugging, I got onto the porch and went in front of the door. There were rusty nails all over the sides of the door and broken boards beneath it as if it used to be barricaded and eventually was ransacked by probably a hitchhiker or robber of the sort. Keeping an eye out just in case I wasn't alone, I stepped over the boards, making my way into the house.
The interior of it seemed to be in the same condition as it was on the outside. Faded wallpaper was torn down from its walls, revealing the undercoat of the skeleton of the building. Some framed photos were shattered along the side of the structure, as well as antique sofas and chairs scratched to hell and scattered about the room. From the size of it, one could assume this first area was the living room. Past the arch that angled on the wall, the kitchen could be seen: it had a rusty old iron furnace, ashes all around it, broken planks and shattered windows, and a nicely carved but chipped table. From my right was another hallway that stretched into another part of the house. Continuing with my discovery, I took the east-wing hallway, entering the study. With each new room, I snapped a couple of photos of the broken-down establishment. After a couple of shots, I looked around the study for a subject to capture. On the desk that was on the left side corner of the room, it had a book that seemed to be intact. Curiously, I made my way to the desk and picked up the book. It was made of leather and the pages had that "old book smell." I shuffled through it, hoping not to damage its soft pages. It was in a language I couldn't understand or recognize. The only thing I could somewhat comprehend were the pictures of some oddly shaped heart or symbols of something that looked like it had just come straight out of Harry Potter. I raised an eyebrow out of confusion and despite my efforts, I eventually gave up trying to read it and put the book inside my messenger bag. When I stepped back during the act, I felt something hollow from the floor below me. Surprised, I leaned down and lifted the old, velvet-colored carpet to reveal a hidden door. Filled with astonishment, I opened the hatch and peered inside.
It was dark and dusty, making me unable to see what was down there, but I noticed the base of a ladder along the sides of the entrance. I pulled my phone out of my pocket, activated its flashlight, and began climbing down the ladder carefully. Hopping down at the last few steps, dust puffed into the air, making me cough. Covering my mouth, I scanned the basement around me. There were walls shelved with taxidermy and jarred specimens that looked like creatures and body parts. Some of the specimens didn't even look like any animal I failed to recognize; like a fairy-looking one, or a hairy one-eyed thing, and so many oddities I could not wrap my head around. Gulping from nervousness, I explored further into the basement. There were workbenches with surgical materials, beakers, what seemed like bunsen burners, and many antique medical and scientific materials. As I finally reached the end of the room, there was a desk with another book on it. Wondering what it entailed, I picked it up and began turning the pages. The texture of the book didn't seem right, but the oddness of it drove me to seek its meaning. Once again, it was filled with strange writing I have never seen before, but this time many of its photos were unrecognizable and full of strange beings and symbols. "Holy shit, did I find a satanic summoning book?" I joked aloud. Ignorant of my surroundings, I bumped into one of the shelves, causing one of the jars to shatter on my shoulder. Out of shock, I tripped and accidentally gripped the table with a scalpel, hoping for it to give me leverage. The blade sliced right into my palm, causing it to bleed. I hissed in pain and pulled my hand away reflexively, dropping the book on the floor. Blood began dripping from my hand. As I cursed aloud, some droplets splattered on the open book below me. Suddenly, the room began to grow darker and darker. The walls of the basement distorted as if it was a living thing with crawling veins. My heart raced as one of the walls started forming something undefinable. It began to open itself up with black tentacles, ripping a path open. Out of shock, I stared at it, not knowing what to do. Snapping myself out of my funk, I began to try and stop my shaking. Carefully, I slowly approached it, curious if it was real or not. Its tentacles crawled like wormlike vines around its rims, making a strange squishing sound. Keeping at least a foot away, I tried to make out what was on the other side. Suddenly it hisses and the vines grabbed my arms and legs. Screaming in absolute terror, I tried resisting its pull, scraping my shoes against the dirt floor. All I could hear was my heartbeat speed up faster and faster as it drew me closer and closer to the void. Growing weaker, I physically couldn't keep fighting, causing it to suck me into the abyss, covering me with darkness. The tentacles started closing from behind me and I have become aware that there was no use trying to escape anymore. It fully blended with the wall, as if nothing had ever happened, engulfing me in its darkness.