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Photo:
Livan
Hernandez
I remember that it was exactly on
Friday the thirtieth. Even though I'm not
superstitious, that night something
horrible happened.
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The
Most Terrible Day
Mireya
Zaragoza from Mexico
Two
years ago, in Mexico in 1998, I came back home from
school tired as I always was. I was resting with my
mother while two of my seven brothers, Moses and
Enrique, were drinking in front of Enrique's house.
I
remember that it was exactly on Friday the
thirtieth. Even though I'm not superstitious, that
night something horrible happened.
Suddenly,
my brother Moses came into my house running. He
looked scared. He didn't say anything to my mother
or me. He just went directly into my brother Jesus'
room. They talked for about five minutes.
Then
a family friend came driving my brother Enrique's
truck and parked it in the backyard. He left with
my two brothers, Moses and Jesus. Later on, Jesus
came back and said he had bad news about Enrique.
He said that somebody had shot Enrique and not to
say anything to my mom.
My
brother Enrique was in the hospital with a bullet
in his head. The doctors told his wife to be
prepared for anything. She was in the hospital with
him. She had left their two boys with her mom.
The
shooting happened around nine o'clock on Friday. We
passed the whole Saturday waiting for the worst to
happen. Then on Sunday night the doctors took him
to surgery to remove the bullet. They did it, but
they told us it might have consequences.
Fortunately, he just had the normal problems due to
the shooting.
For
one whole month he didn't had any reflexes. He
couldn't control his leg. He felt very depressed,
but with the support of his family, especially his
wife, he is now completely recuperated.
After
that incident our lives changed a lot. My brother
moved to another house in a totally different
neighborhood. We left all the bad people behind,
but we kept on feeling nervous every time when we
heard the police sirens.
Due
to that horrible event, I returned to the United
States. My mom is now here, too. She came alone a
month ago. All my brothers are married and live in
Mexico.
Now
we are trying to continue our lives in a better
way, not only for ourselves, but for the kids that
my brothers already have and for my mom because we
know that she needs peacefulness. This experience
taught me not to be afraid of
death.
This
story was written in The
Look Book Project,
which was created in Julia Karet's ESL class at
Chaffey Community College.
More
stories about overcoming difficulties:
A
Terrible Memory
| A
Terrible Day
| My
Little Guardian Angel
Return
to: Overcoming
Difficulties
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