My mother loved my father. She hated alcohol. My father was a tenant in his 20s. My mother was a child at 14. With age comes wisdom to some, but my mother's wisdom came at the cost of her innocence.
My mother was naive as a young girl. Having recently moved to America from Mexico she found herself living with her mother again after years of living with her grandmother in a house on the ranch.
My dad was a tenant living alongside her. He loved games or what some would call "traps." His favorite game was house. When my mother and he were alone he would ask her if she wanted to play. She would agree. This trap.... or "game" would give him an opportunity to sexually assault her. She would question his intentions, but being as naive as she was, she accepted the lie that this was just how you played the game. This game would take a life of its own as it somehow made her a real life mother at the age of fourteen and eventually would make me a younger brother at the age of 16. My grandfather was away when this occurred and from what I was told he was furious. But with time comes acceptance and he was able to accept it as long as the huntsman stayed to complete the game of house that he had started. Except now many new players had entered.
BINABASA MO ANG
Fragmentation - Life in Pieces
Historical FictionThis book is a collection of short stories that I have been told, experienced or overheard throughout my upbringing about my families unconventional history. In an unfolding story told in fragments that are not in chronological order, readers will...
