A Home Better Than I Roam

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: 'The Odd Ones'
This place I am forced to call home...

is nothing like a home to me.

Submitted: July 03, 2019

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Submitted: July 03, 2019

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Blue. I wish the skies were blue. The unnecessary paintings and five-year-old drawings of oval shaped Earths was too unrealistic. There weren’t any bright white clouds, no pretty, light blue skies and definitely no small suns poking out and spreading light down on the people. In fact, it was cold.

It was cold, dark and cloudy. The sun never seemed to shine, and the sky was hidden behind all the stubborn and egotistical black tinted clouds. The gloomy weather didn’t seem to help with my own current surroundings. The streets were all empty apart from the one bus stop containing the usual giggling students. The streets, of which used to be a pretty cream colour was now completely stained and covered with indecisive graffiti. There was a huge cluster of shopping carts huddled next to an overfilled garbage bin, along with some lady grumbling as she grabbed one from the pile and ignored the mischievous affairs her children were competing, although she seemed to judgingly stare at the group of students, mumbling about ‘disorganisation’. The faint smell of spoilt alcohol and cigarettes could be found at every turn, and you would have to hope that you wouldn’t run into any teenagers flaunting off their muscles and showing off their provocative outfits. A lot of rumours were circulated around them, but they all involved the same factors. Alcohol, abuse and drugs. Nothing too uncommon here. The only ordinary sounds anyone could hear was the yelling from three houses all rowed up next to each other and the loud laughter from some drunk and drugged up teenagers, along with police officers tiredly cuffing them up. Most of the time, you would hear the faint sound of the police siren whirring in the background, and if you were brave enough to examine what was going on, you would most likely find the police cars completely trashed. Graffiti scribbled all over with the windows and windscreens thrashed to pieces.

It was very different to my own home. My home back in Mexico was much simpler. Although, I know it wasn’t better, but I still can’t help but feel safer in Mexico.

I remember the happy and special moments I had staying in the salon with mamá and papá, carelessly talking about the things that happened in school. I miss seeing El Mariachi bands performing around the streets, along with the occasionally tango dances and memorable parties. I miss my amigas and the trouble we got up to. I miss my familia and the amazing meals and family reunions we had. I miss everything…

The slight brush of cold air against my skin sent me into a shivering rage. Teeth chattering and body trembling. The day only seemed to drag longer on. The narrow street way was filled with an avalanche of students, each huddling together like penguins.

Even the people here were very unusual. Their ways of living seemed to be quiet free and relaxed compared to my own.

I vaguely remember attending school for the first time and congratulating a girl, all tall and blonde, sort of like in those American Movies, for her 15th birthday. It is was all sweet cheer until I brought up quinceañera. The huge group of girls looked at me strangely before hesitantly laughing. The only thing I hear when I pass by them now, is spiteful words and disdainful gossips, coming out mercilessly.

Another example. I finished another day of school, smiling like a complete moron since I met a new friend who wanted to exchange numbers. A small boy called William. Everything about him was quite charming. He was like one of those boys from the English fairy tales. His beautiful smile, dazzling brown eyes and dark brown tousled hair. Definitely a possible actor for a live action Disney Movie. I remember standing next to him and smiling while he mumbled on about incomplete homework, until mamá appeared.

She was speaking kindly and greeting William with a sweet smile until a thought creeped through her head.

“Aye! You’re not getting any ideas about being with mi querido right? Lo juro, if you start getting anymore touchy with her other than being in her presence, I will bring out my chancla! I am not afraid to use it!” Mamá seemed to have scared more than half the students away in the area, her thick Spanish accent only making her seem more intimidating.

The one most unforgettable thing about that day was the terrified and scared look on William’s face as he quickly decided to bid me goodbye and run far away as possible, along with mamá muttering curses.

My thoughts were interrupted with a loud honk of a bus driving up towards the cluster of students. Once it stopped moving at the doors opened with a huge ‘WHOOSH’, students began to fight their ways onto the bus, pushing and shoving like vicious tigers all setting their hunger on one piece of meat.

I didn’t bother too much about rushing onto the bus, and instead, decided to let all the other students push their ways past me, patiently waiting to see whether I could make it onto the bus before it became to overcrowded. Unfortunately for me, that was the exact thing that happened.

In the end, I was able to persuade myself it was for the best to walk home and became trudging my way to the familiar house.

My light steps accompanied by my fatigued posture made the sight of me too pitiful to stare at. I just kept smiling though, feeling somewhat happy with the even faker smiles given in return.

The whole trip to my home was completed by strangers bumping into me and myself resulting in saying an apology. Running into those group of teenagers, as they tossed pieces of trash my way. Topping it off with a group of police officers stopping me and demanding for proof that I was legally staying in the area.

Another usual day, in this unusual neighbourhood.


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