"We raised your father in a shack here in Carolina, I used to wash and iron the clothes of rich people whilst your abuelo sang at weddings and even concerts." she continued " we were poor, but we never went to bed hungry even though our son Marco thought we had everything," she explainedI listened attentively, not daring to even ask questions because everything she said always explained itself "when Marco was five years old we sent him to school, it was there that he realized he was different and that other kids had more than he did" my grandmother gave a cold shrug "we did all we could and at most it was enough until he went to school, every child there dressed more smarter than he did, they had better looking schoolbags and had more scrumptious lunches and he only had to go to school in handsewn clothing and oversized shoes, he didn't even have a school jersey"My heart began to bleed for the man who had birthed me, I imagined him in his oversized school clothing thy other kids

I don't know how long I was in trance but I know what broke it, I felt the strong embrace, the aroma of the arepas that clung to her like an expensive perfume as well the warmth of her hug engulf me..."it's okay, you have me now," she said, patting my back. No tears escaped my eyes deep inside a cold, silent, and chilly emptiness is all I felt where there should've been a broken heart"Oh child," Was all she could say as she comforted me because truly what could you tell an eight year old child who had just lost his mother, either than lowly muttered words of comfort which barely managed to shine through the gloomy haze of grief. Andrea suddenly walked in dressed in pajamas and all childlike innocence. "nana is Matteo crying again?" She asked, rubbing her sleepy eyes and sighing deeply. I didn't feel them falling but when Andrea mentioned crying I felt myself wiping floods of tears that I had no control over, abuela ignored Andrea's question and began wiping at my face with the ba

I don't know how long I stood outside the church before feeling ready to go back inside. As I took a step inside, a tall bald neatly dressed middle-aged man blocked my entrance "Pardon me?"He said in a posh educated accent"You must be Matteo Cardaso?" He asked despite my reservations. I nodded a yes, as nice as it was to get attention and sympathy from the people about my mother’s passing.I still wasn't allowed to talk to strangers. He extended a hand to me, which I reluctantly shook "I am Mario Velasquez, your mother’s lawyer" He announced before reaching into the pockets of his double breast suit and handing me a small white envelope"Your mother wanted me to give you this. It's sealed it's never been opened " He revealed "Only she knew the contents of it," he said before giving me a sympathetic grin. " She told me to tell you to read it when the time was right" I felt intrigued. What was inside this small, thin envelope that she had employed a swanky, expensive looking la

I stood on thy edge for what felt like an eternity, contemplating the exact meaning of the occurring events my family and I found ourselves entangled in. Our mom was dead, our father had abandoned us for another woman my supposed friend's own mother for that matter and now I had learnt that Marcelo was actually my big brother, Marcelo and I were born just a year apart with him being the eldest, which meant that Marcelo was actually my older brother.The news would have been welcomed under different circumstances but now my mother was dead and our father had abandoned Andrea and I for Marcelo, to worsen matters he had started adding on his new family with the arrival of his next children, Andrea and I had been left and forgotten in Carolina. The bitterness of my father's betrayal left a sour taste in my mouth. How would I live now? Knowing everything and what would tell Andrea, who kept expecting our father to return back into our lives. And Marcelo?, he knew we were related, he didn

The following day the Priest told us that he and his wife would be visiting our abuela in court as she was having an appearance there, Andrea and I wanted to go but the Priest said that the court was not a good place for children so we stayed behind.When the Priest had left, I sensed that the mood of the elderly lady in the house had somewhat changed, at first, she forbid us to go out and play "You kids should stay inside the house, I don't want to be chasing you kids all over the neighborhood with my arthritis," she had claimed. When Andrea followed me to me, she stopped her "Girly you must stay in your own room" she told her, Andrea tearfully went to her room but shortly after I heard Andrea running outside a small peek of my window confirmed it, which I found odd. I didn't want to enquire about that, so I spent my time reading a children's book about Noah and the ark and found myself dozing off. A loud shattering sound of glass hitting ceramic and breaking woke up abruptly fro