I laid down on my mattress staring up at the plain ceiling. The sound of rain drops were hitting against my window sill but it wasn’t the joyful rain like we got in Venezuela, this was a cold rain. It left me feeling damp and cold. All I wanted to do was stay under my covers depressed with the thought that mi primos were probably back home running in the warm rain playing soccer.
I woke up to the smell of arroz con pollo, mi madre screaming for me to get up because her novellas would be coming on soon and if there was none left, I would have to fend for myself. The sun shone perfectly in my window and accentuated the chipped painted orange walls and posters I had hanging up. “Muévete Gabriel” mi madre yelled and I knew that I needed to get out of bed. Stretching I heard my brothers running toward the kitchen and knew even though today was the day that I was leaving for America, that I would be treated as if nothing was happening. I knew what time my flight was and I was dreading it. My sister ran over to me grinning as if she had just finished doing something sinister. “ What are you up to, mi corazon?” I asked peering over my food to get a better look at her. “ Nothing.” she denied and ran back to the television.
Noon was approaching and I would have to leave soon if I wanted to make it on time. I had looked up pictures of New York City, where I would move in with mi hermana. The city looked cramped, and the buildings looked like dominoes my sister would line up and if one fell the others would crumble after. Here our houses were separated, and our houses were lined with different colors, teal, white, not cement bricks and glass. The flowers and trees added to the beauty and I knew that things would not be the same. “Bring your bags already Gabe”, my brother yelled and I walked slowly out of my room with my one piece luggage and passport in hand. My mother never liked to break down in front of us but today was different, her eyes shone a bright red and fresh ones threatened to come out in any minute. “Escuchar mi nino, when you go to America, make me proud, study and one day we would meet each other again. Don’t get distracted, and remember to always call, and no matter how much Hannah may annoy you always respect her.”
The tears fell from my eyes and the coldness began seeping in from where my leg was exposed. I stared at the muñeca my sister slipped into my bag the day I left . I slipped the covers off of my face and the realization that I would not wake up to the smell of home hit me like a tidal wave. The walls were plain and white and I knew that I would never be able to call this place my home. Home was where my mother shouted, my brothers fought over who gets the last bit of food and where my room held all of my memories either bad or good. But for now I was stuck in this empty apartment, silenced because my sister was away at work, and there would be no loud noises of love or complaint.
The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn - Mark Twain ; Vernacular
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