Creative Writing

Creative Writing
Chapter One
“Ssssshhhh! Come on lets go.” You first, now you… be quiet before they hear us.” Bam! “Hey who there?”, the border guard questions as he hears multiple sounds all at one time. The bright line steers directly towards us, Marco yells for us to take off, later discovering that this was his tacit to make sure we were safe because he knew how quick he was able to run.
“Jose’ run, we gotta make it.” I yelled. “Si’?” I could feel his wariness that we were not going to make it cross the boarder, but I continued to push him and after 20 minutes of running and panting, there was a sign that increased our chances of living and motivated us to keep going towards the place that was known as the ”Freedom Land”.
See,my father was the only parent that I have ever known due to the factor that my mother was a mule and quickly ended her career after one bad swallow, and since my father was captured in Columbia, my two brothers, Marco 17, Jose 9, and I 14, have been trying to make our lives a lot easier then what they actually have been. Back in December the general visited our home in Cuba because our neighbors seemed to be a little jealous that my brother and uncle claimed different households and that allowed for us to be provide with a bundle of more goods from the government, and once they discovered that this was the truth my uncle was sentenced to 12 years and Marco was suppose to receive 9 years due to him only being under the influence of an adult. Marco Jose and I managed to escape, but later leaving Jose and me to fend for ourselves in the huge city.
After walking in the cold, dark, dreary night, Jose and I managed to find Marco. ”Are ya’ll K?” “Si.” Jose exclaims, with me following right after in great excitement, “Hermano, te amo.” Now that we are all back together, we combined the money that our “Tia” sent us from New York to try and get a cab to the nearest hotel in Laredo, Texas. Once the cab driver stop, we hopped in to try and not look so suspicious for there was streets filled of gigantic men that appeared to be mean and beat on their wives if they were lucky enough to have one. After riding around I realized that the man driving had his hair slicked down, and had used the similar gel that my papi used back home which complemented his perfume that usually was sent from his boss in Columbia. Then, as the fragrance swift pass my open nostril, the middle age chico began to speak, and we all looked at each other in the back seat not paying attention to anything he was saying only the tone of his voice which was similar to my father’s, leading me to believe that it was him. With disappointment He turned around and didn’t have the great smooth features that my papi lived with throughout his life. His face seemed a little tarnished, along with what seemed to be battle scars. After we gathered the change we had left to pay the well mannered man, we grab the few things we had left, including 2 shirts and one pair of underwear for each person.
Not caring about material things we begged and pleaded for money on the streets and ended up with two days in a hotel room, because the women at the front desk along with the cleaners happened to be immigrants that were from the same area as my brothers and me.
As we entered the room there was a tall, slender dark shadow that was later over powered with a human consisting of a skinned head, body markings as though he was from one of the tribes that we had passed earlier, except he was lighter than usual which was unexpected due to the fact that all the other workers were a darker brown or either our color.
Thinking that he was going to ask us question, Marco whispered that we should look forward and pretended to be just having a normal conversation, then we realized he was in daze which only involved him and the numbers that seemed to be overflowing the paper as continued on down the everlasting hallway. Entering the cool, freshly cleaned room, Jose began to jump on the bed reminding me of the story that papi always told us, “No mo’ ManKEYS Jumpin’ on te BED”. Marco quickly calmed him down and gave us the plans for the next couple of days.
As the day went on we played hand games, Marco later leaving us to look for work. He didn’t return for what seemed like days. He was hired as a yard worker in neighboring hotel that was going to allowed us to sleep there and take out the expense in his check. Although we were excited about the designated beds that were filled with the fluffiness that dad use to bring back from his trips, oh how I missed my papi, but the beds were a little uncomfortable due to the ragged cloth.
Days went by then months, which was later followed by years, now Jose is 14, Marco 22, I’m 19. Sadly we haven’t heard from Tia who was suppose to send for us, and I’ve missed all the festivities that we use to enjoy back home on Domingo, but living here has been a lot easier besides the lighter complexion people that seemed to always stare at us whenever we walk into an area, as though we are not suppose to be there for some odd reason.
After all this time we have seem to have found this family that we greatly trust because of the quick bond that has happen, also they have been there through the thick and thin. They remind me of when my grannie was living and she would say “Si swen prethi ”; yes you can.