The Wrong Time

Introduction

Texas. We, my family, my mom, younger sister and older brother, has moved to Texas for the season. We have three months, three months is over, then Michigan.

And no we aren't some rich class family who moves state-to-state in first class seating, offered luxurious meals. We aren't the family who moves state-to-state to live and experience a new atmosphere.

We are the family who moves state-to-state to live, strive, save, and hustle. But most importantly to harvest.

My mom illegally entered the US at seventeen with her apathetic boyfriend. Had my brother at eighteen, me at twentyone and my little sister at twenty-five.

Now that Jose (our shitty father) has left us as little as when I was 5, my mother has been threatened to be sent back to Acapulco, México. A town where she grew up in and was on the verge of safe.

But now that im seventeen, almost eighteen. Me and my siblings have been helping my mother to afford little apartments in the middle of the hood, or anywhere we are even capable to rent.

My mom, my family has been through hell and back, and I promise and pray everyday we can make it out of this type of poverty.

And thats my goal.

"Welcome to Texas" a rusty sign with a red white and blue flag said on the side of the road as we entered into a very low populated area.

I shifted my self in the back seat of my moms beat up 1998 Ford truck.
The back of our truck was filled with clothes and various supplies we need all year long.

"Mama, where's this new place you rented?" I asked her. This isn't my first time being in Texas, so maybe I know what highschool I'll be going to.

"Granbury, cariño." Granbury highschool, I mentally roll my eyes, but I remember this is the best my mom could do and I understand that.

We previously lived down here, but that was when I was in middle school, when I was a very ugly potato (I'm a normal looking potato now) and no one spoke to me for the 3 out of 5 days I came to school. And the other two where spent on the fields.

I pulled out my journal, the one my mother gave me when I was a sophomore in highschool. She told me:

"Cuando usted desea expresar su uno mismo, y el mundo no le permitirá a. Escribir sus pensamientos, sensaciones y alma hacia fuera."
~
"When you want to express your self, and the world will not allow you to. Write your thoughts, feelings and soul out."

Ever since, I wrote everything I felt strongly about in this little journal. I carried it around just like the other people my age carried around thier cellphones.

'August 5, 2015

Today we have finally reached Texas.
And will dread the day 8-10 comes becuase I hate starting a new school with new strangers. Although we move very often, I haven't gotten over the problem with making new friends all over again amd meeting new people. So lets hope my last year in highschool won't be dreadful as the previous years.
Love, Alexandra'

I wrote below August 3, neatly in my journal.

For my love of writing, I want to be a journalist, who travel for the better of things without having to worry where the next meal will come from.

My older brother has spent alot of time on the field helping my mother make a living, it would ironic to find Alejandro in school for 2 straight days. Now that he is 20 and school days are over for him, he chooses to work little jobs at restaurants rather then going down a career path becuase he has little education.