Rediscovering Roots: A Journey to Mexico

My little sister cried as she said goodbye to my parents before liftoff, this would be our first time traveling to our “homeland”, Mexico. We would meet the strangers we called family and embrace the culture. I strained my neck to find a familiar face, cupping my hands to form a telescope I spotted my Grandmother. Dragging my heavy bag I side hugged her and awkwardly shook my relatives’ hands.

Our third week there things started to change, the excitement was gone and replaced with indifference. The smell of home cooked meals was gone and replaced with ordered pizza that I’m positive gave me food poisoning. No longer were we allowed outside, shopping at the Mercado stopped even though I knew my parents were sending more than enough money.

Something was wrong and I would put my Nancy Drew skills to the test.
The next night I hacked into the main computer and opened the finance information, finding an outrageous amount of money being spent on a lawyer. The next day I decided to stay “home” and not play in the pond, scurrying through the back door I bumped into someone. Looking up I wanted to yell, in front of me was a man covered in blood and a black eye, my eldest cousin. He backed up, and ran up the stairs. Stunned I walked into the living room finding my aunt bawling. Instead of running off like any normal 12 year old, I asked her what was wrong “tenemos problemas”, she sniffled.
The last weeks were confusing, seeing the entire family gather for secret meetings at night. No one was there to take care of my sister or 8 and 2 year old cousins. I would wake up early to fetch breakfast and manage the money I had left to get our lunches. I would play with them guarding them from what was happening and still had to console my aunt every night. Not the ideal vacation retreat. The phone bill was never paid and communication with my parents was long gone.
I was angry at these people who were supposed to take care of us, instead I was taking care of them. “I’m going out”, my aunt said for the infinite time. “Where it’s almost 1am?” She didn’t respond and thrust the baby into my arms before walking out, “order pizza” she said and left. I was raised to respect my elders but this had gone too far, I masked my new found hatred towards her and smiled to the kids as I turned on the TV. I would find all my answers in the wonderful database called google. I smirked as I sat down typing, sometimes I wish I hadn’t. “Possible rapist”, “Whore manager”, “...criminal” and under each article a picture of my uncle, her husband.
It was 2am when I heard a door being forced open, the dogs barked in alarm. The kids woke from their peaceful slumber on the couch. I rushed to turn off the lights and lock the door. I knew who it was, they were looking for my uncle or any one of us to hold for ransom. They wanted him to pay and rightfully so. I grabbed a pair of scissors from the desk and waited. I could see the frightened look on the kid’s innocent faces and immediately felt disgust for my “family”. I was alone but sure as hell would I leave them alone, I would protect them.
A miracle happened that night and they never found their way into the room. I was no longer a little girl, I could no longer think, that would never happen to me, because it did. I could forgive them but never forget, all I wanted was for the plane to take off and bring me home. The family I longed for growing up wasn’t worth it, who likes family reunions anyway?