That was December 10, 1995. To this day, I wonder what really happened.
My pops owned his own roofing company and my real mom was still alive, We even owned the house we lived in. My pops worked super hard to support us—it was me, my older brother David, my mom, and my dad. Pops was gone most of the time, working, and we barely got to spend time together.
One day, my dad was in the garage working on his truck. It was nice out, and he had just bought me a brand new unicorn bike, so I was eager to ride it. I begged my pops to let me ride, and he told me I could, as long as I promised to be home before dark.
I promised, but I didn’t keep it. The dark crept up fast, and then I saw my dad and my older brother David on my pops’ motorcycle, heading somewhere. At the time, I didn’t know where, but I knew my mom was home alone, so I finally went back home.
I knocked on the door, and even broke the front window trying to get my mom to open up, but she didn’t let me in. I don’t know what kept her from letting me in, so I gave up. I went down the street to a liquor store where I used to steal ice cream. The store worker didn’t like me, so they told me to leave. I really needed help, but no one would help me, except for this white girl named Jessica. She begged her boyfriend, who was a dropout from the Mexican Mafia, to take me in. It was only a block away from my house, so I thought it was cool.
Before Jessica and her boyfriend went to bed, they told me not to open the door for anyone. Keep in mind, this was 1995, and I was only six years old. I didn’t know any better. In the middle of the night, I heard a knock on the door. I opened it with the chain still locked, and the older guy—turns out he was my enemy—asked to come in, saying he just needed to use the bathroom. He had a lot of gold and money.
He ended up robbing them, it was my fault. That same night a gunshot went off in my house—around midnight. They say it was my mom who shot herself, but no one ever really knew what happened. I still wonder what really went down that night. That was December 10, 1995. To this day, I wonder what really happened. After that, I grew up with a stepmom. She was cool, better than nothing.
