spotlight. [oscar diaz]

what guilt can do to a man.

- for the lies we tell & the ones we hurt because of it.

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NOVEMBER 24, 2018
9:27 AM

I didn't want to speak to him. I didn't even want to look at his face. His presence made me so fucking sick.

I slammed the door in his face, but he wouldn't leave. He just kept knocking and knocking and I didn't feel safe being home alone, so I opened the door, pushed him back and ran to the only place I would feel safe.

Sadly, he followed me.

"Oscar!" I screamed, turning down his street as I ran from my dad. I looked back and he was still behind me, so I turned forward again and ran faster as I continued screaming louder. "OSCAR! OSCAR!"

I saw his house come into view, along with Santos who were sitting on his lawn, looking in my direction confusedly. As soon as he saw me, he stood up and the rest of the Santos did too, taking out their guns.

"Oscar!" I yelled, running up to him and engulfing him in my arms.

"Ramona, what's wrong?" he asked and I pulled back. He stepped back, looking me over for any injuries, but when he didn't find any he wrapped his arms around me again. "Baby, what's wrong?"

"Tell him to leave me alone," I began to cry into his chest. "I don't want him here."

"Who are you-"

"Ramona, honey!" my dad called. I turned around and saw him run up on the lawn. All the Santos cocked their guns and pointed them at him, making him stop. He connected eyes with me. "Honey, just hear what I have to say."

"Who the fuck is this gringo?" Mateo asked, keeping his gun aimed at him.

"It's my dad," I answered, bitterly. Oscar's face went pale and his jaw clenched.

"I need you to get the fuck off my side, homie," Oscar threatened, pushing past me and walking up to him.

"I need to talk to my daughter," he said, looking past him to me. "Tell them I get a pass."

"Nah, you don't talk to her," Oscar interjected. "Don't say shit to her. You wanna pass a message you pass it through me."

"That's my fucking daughter!" he yelled and Oscar reached down and pulled his gun from his waistband.

"No, the fuck she ain't," he gritted out, holding the gun up to his face. "She wants you to go, so get the fuck off my shit!"

"I'm sorry, but I'm not going to listen to some wetbacks!" he yelled and that's when Oscar brought his gun down on his head. He fell to the ground, completely knocked out.

"Get this racist piece of shit off my side," Oscar ordered, spitting on him before turning back to me.

Mateo and Alejandro grabbed his body and dragged him to the street, throwing him in the trunk of his car. All the guys put down their guns and Mateo and Alejandro walked back up to us.