Chapter 1: I Am Born
I Am Born
I was born on December 20, 2002, on a Friday. It was 10 pm; with big dark brown eyes, I was ready to take on the world. "Ohanna " is a name that means " gracious and kind," a name I was given to make something of myself in this world we live in; I have two older siblings, my big sister Marianne and my brother Ronald two people I laid my eyes on after looking at my mother.
The very next day, I was to arrive home, a place that would fill my memories, but even as a baby, the house around me seemed ordinary on the outside but so chilling on the inside.
It was my Grandmother's house. She didn't live alone because we were here living with her. When my mother brought me home, I saw new faces and familiar faces, but I couldn't speak; I only stared at everyone's lips moving with broad smiles on their faces.
[Time skip]
I am 5 years old; my brain is still developing, but that's okay. I know my rights from my wrongs, even at a young age. I feel like a stranger in this small pink house; there's no emotion or joy in this house. We wake up, my mother goes to work and comes back late, leaving my siblings and me with our grandma, who barely shows any emotion with her stone-cold face.
Our mother comes home soon before our bedtime. When she arrives, we stand near the window, waiting for her to appear, " close my goddam curtains," my grandmother said with venom in her voice. My older sister and brother ignored her and continued to stare out the window waiting for mom to arrive. I turned to stare at my grandmother, only for her to suck her teeth at us.
" I told you to close my goddam curtains. Your mom comes at eight something. What time is it, huh?" she pulled the curtains from my sister's grip and but brother held on, " no, we are going to wait for our mom. It's 8:30. She is supposed to be back by now," my sister said, holding her ground. My brother nodded his head," and she is going to bring food back from her job cause you didn't feed us since morning." he said as he gave her a cold icy stare.
Before my grandmother could utter another word, we heard the metal gates opening. She's home! Her friend that dropped her off waved her hands as she drove off. Our mom looked tired, but when she saw our three faces squished against the window, I could see a small smile on her face.
" Mommy!" we all screamed as she entered the house. " how are my babies doing? Did you all behave?" our grandmother rolled her eyes." behave? They haven't listened to a word I said all day". I wanted to say that she is lying, but I was taught at a young age that it is not appropriate to call adult liars, so I just stayed quiet.
Momma sighed," Ma, I have a hard time believing you. Did the kids eat anything while I was at work? I was going to call home, but I was very occupied". " No," I said quietly, but she still heard me. " she didn't feed us at all today."
I couldn't read the expression on our mom's face as she handed my older sister a bag with some food in it. " you kids eat in the kitchen, Ma. I need to talk to you in the room." she closed the house door. " talk about what? this is, my damn house. I don't have to do a thing," she crossed her arms.
Mom sighed as she placed her hand on her forehead." Ma, I'm telling you to come in the room to talk, I don't want the kids hearing any of this," she said calmly; I know mom can blow up on grandma if she wants to, but she has respect for the women before her.
Our grandmother followed Mom into her room, and the door was closed. We heard a locking sound. They only lock the door when it's grave; I picked it up at that last time when our grandmother didn't feed us.
" Why is she so mean to us?" I asked as I waited for my older sister to set out plates and separate the food. " she has always been that way since the day I was born," my sister shrugged. " yeah," my brother agreed," you have to deal with itā he said with a hollow expression.
But that's the problem dealing with hate. How does one do that? My grandmother's behavior is far from grumpy because even I know grumpy people tend to smile once in a while.
It's as if our very existence bothered her. For some reason, she didn't like my father; she tried to ruin my mother's marriage twice, but it didn't work because my father loved my mother deeply and wouldn't allow anything to come between them like her crazy mother.
My father is in Haiti. Sadly, he didn't get to be here in America to witness my birth, but it's okay because my mother told me he was there in spirit. Mother is saving money from her job, so she can help my father come to America so we can be a family.
I wish this home felt more welcoming. This isn't the meaning of family. It felt like a cage, we could leave, but my mother wanted to look after grandma after her sister and brother left to live out their lives and explore, but when will it be my mothers turn. We stay for her sake, but it's tearing our little family apart. This home was never really mine.
I was born on December 20, 2002, on a Friday. It was 10 pm; with big dark brown eyes, I was ready to take on the world. "Ohanna " is a name that means " gracious and kind," a name I was given to make something of myself in this world we live in; I have two older siblings, my big sister Marianne and my brother Ronald two people I laid my eyes on after looking at my mother.
The very next day, I was to arrive home, a place that would fill my memories, but even as a baby, the house around me seemed ordinary on the outside but so chilling on the inside.
It was my Grandmother's house. She didn't live alone because we were here living with her. When my mother brought me home, I saw new faces and familiar faces, but I couldn't speak; I only stared at everyone's lips moving with broad smiles on their faces.
[Time skip]
I am 5 years old; my brain is still developing, but that's okay. I know my rights from my wrongs, even at a young age. I feel like a stranger in this small pink house; there's no emotion or joy in this house. We wake up, my mother goes to work and comes back late, leaving my siblings and me with our grandma, who barely shows any emotion with her stone-cold face.
Our mother comes home soon before our bedtime. When she arrives, we stand near the window, waiting for her to appear, " close my goddam curtains," my grandmother said with venom in her voice. My older sister and brother ignored her and continued to stare out the window waiting for mom to arrive. I turned to stare at my grandmother, only for her to suck her teeth at us.
" I told you to close my goddam curtains. Your mom comes at eight something. What time is it, huh?" she pulled the curtains from my sister's grip and but brother held on, " no, we are going to wait for our mom. It's 8:30. She is supposed to be back by now," my sister said, holding her ground. My brother nodded his head," and she is going to bring food back from her job cause you didn't feed us since morning." he said as he gave her a cold icy stare.
Before my grandmother could utter another word, we heard the metal gates opening. She's home! Her friend that dropped her off waved her hands as she drove off. Our mom looked tired, but when she saw our three faces squished against the window, I could see a small smile on her face.
" Mommy!" we all screamed as she entered the house. " how are my babies doing? Did you all behave?" our grandmother rolled her eyes." behave? They haven't listened to a word I said all day". I wanted to say that she is lying, but I was taught at a young age that it is not appropriate to call adult liars, so I just stayed quiet.
Momma sighed," Ma, I have a hard time believing you. Did the kids eat anything while I was at work? I was going to call home, but I was very occupied". " No," I said quietly, but she still heard me. " she didn't feed us at all today."
I couldn't read the expression on our mom's face as she handed my older sister a bag with some food in it. " you kids eat in the kitchen, Ma. I need to talk to you in the room." she closed the house door. " talk about what? this is, my damn house. I don't have to do a thing," she crossed her arms.
Mom sighed as she placed her hand on her forehead." Ma, I'm telling you to come in the room to talk, I don't want the kids hearing any of this," she said calmly; I know mom can blow up on grandma if she wants to, but she has respect for the women before her.
Our grandmother followed Mom into her room, and the door was closed. We heard a locking sound. They only lock the door when it's grave; I picked it up at that last time when our grandmother didn't feed us.
" Why is she so mean to us?" I asked as I waited for my older sister to set out plates and separate the food. " she has always been that way since the day I was born," my sister shrugged. " yeah," my brother agreed," you have to deal with itā he said with a hollow expression.
But that's the problem dealing with hate. How does one do that? My grandmother's behavior is far from grumpy because even I know grumpy people tend to smile once in a while.
It's as if our very existence bothered her. For some reason, she didn't like my father; she tried to ruin my mother's marriage twice, but it didn't work because my father loved my mother deeply and wouldn't allow anything to come between them like her crazy mother.
My father is in Haiti. Sadly, he didn't get to be here in America to witness my birth, but it's okay because my mother told me he was there in spirit. Mother is saving money from her job, so she can help my father come to America so we can be a family.
I wish this home felt more welcoming. This isn't the meaning of family. It felt like a cage, we could leave, but my mother wanted to look after grandma after her sister and brother left to live out their lives and explore, but when will it be my mothers turn. We stay for her sake, but it's tearing our little family apart. This home was never really mine.
