My family was poor. So we did what we had to in order to get by. We worked. My mother sold her backside to the white man. My father and I worked in the fields. My brothers, Eduardo Jr. and Carlos build and fix things around the house. As much as Id like to do that or do work in the field, I can't. They have me in house cleaning since I'm the only girl who's not selling her back for a couple of wrinkled dollars and pocket change. My younger sister would feed the animals and sometimes they don't have to do anything because they're the white man's offspring. She's only 11. My older brother Carlos is 15 . I'm 13. And my eldest brother-Eduardo Jr.-is 17. Life is hard, but we stay strong for each other.
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"Raina! Ayúdame con esto." My father calls from across the field.
(Raina! Come help me with this.)
"Necesito hacer esto, así que puedo asegurarla."
(I need you to hold this, so I can secure it.)
I nod and hold the water pipe in place. My father hammers it into the ground before having me shake it to see if it's stable.
"Gracias Raina." My father says, patting my shoulder.
(Thank you Raina.)
I nod and wipe the sweat off of his forehead.
"¿Cuánto tiempo tenemos que trabajar aquí papá?"
(How much longer do we have to work here Papa?)
"Hasta que tenemos suficiente dinero para ir y tener nuestra propia casa. Ese día llegará muy pronto mi niña." He says with a smile.
(Until we have enough money to go and have our own House. That day will come very soon my girl.)
I nod hold his hand.
I'm only twelve at this point, but will be thirteen in two days. My father called me baby girl because I was his youngest daughter. Even though my mom had little twins running around, didn't mean they were his. They were the white mans. The white man whom had a wife. The white man whom was in charge if us. The white man whom I despised.
"¿llegará antes de mi cumpleaños?" I ask hopeful.
My father sighs and at that I know that it wouldn't be possible. I nod and stroke his hand.
"Tengo entendido que papá. Su justa no es posible."
(I understand Papa. Its just not possible.)
My father looks at me with his enormous, soft dark brown eyes.
"Soy Raina lo siento. Lo siento que no puedo prever usted."
(I'm sorry Raina. I'm sorry I can't provide for you.")
"No es culpa tuya papá. Es mamá."
(It's not your fault Papa. It's Mama's.)
My father can't help but smile. He let's out a little chuckle too.
"Hey, little spanish girl. Get over here and let the man work! He needs every last penny." The white man says with a sinister grin.
I look back at my father and he just rubs my hand and squeezes it tight.
"Es mejor que te vayas." He says, kissing my small hand compared to his.
(You better get going.)
"Nos vemos a más tarde Papa."
(I'll see you later Papa)
I walk to the big white house my brothers were painting. Their body's were dripping sweat and their T-shirts drenched with it.
"Hey Raina." Carlos smiles at me as I walk by.
I squint my eyes and wave up to him.
"Hurry up!" The white mans wife grumble, yanking my arm.
"Ow, ow let go of me." I whine, prying her long manicured nails out of my skin.
"Get to work. Start by cleaning those dishes." She commands. "You think because your whore of a mother goes sleeping around with my husband you have benefits? Well you're wrong little girl!"
I roll my eyes and slip my hands in the oversized yellow rubber gloves. I begin washing the massive pile of dishes when I hear steps creaking. I look up to my right and I don't see heels nor dress shoes, but little feet like mine except they were white. As the child came down the steps, I seen that he had messy dark brown hair. I looked away as the boy raised his head up in my direction. He had some plates and three cups. He placed them on the counter and sat atop of the counter next to them.
"Just put them in the sink like everyone else." I say without making eye contact.
"I'll wash them myself, you have a lot to do." He hops off the counter, grabbing his plates.
"But it's my job." I insist.
"Move over so I can wash these and get it over with. Maybe we can play video games or play in the yard." He suggest.
"No, I don't wanna get killed." I shrug
"It happened to my father's brother's son. My cousin. Alejandro. He slept with the white man's daughter and he was hung three weeks later."
The boy stands there in shock.
"Why'd they wait three weeks before 'hanging' him?" He asks with his lip quivering.
"To make sure she wasn't pregnant." The boy says nothing. "Hey, that's just what your kind do. So please, let me do my work so I can help my Papa earn money so we can leave this place." I shrug, grabbing his cup.
"What's your name?" He mumbles.
"If your going to talk to me, speak up. Especially if your going to be speaking English. But if you must know, it's Raina."
"What if we were secret friends, Raina. Ya know, my family doesn't have to know."
"I don't like being anybody's secret."
"You're not it's just tha-"
"Are you gonna let me wash your plate or not?" I ask with crossed arms.
"No, and since you don't wanna be my friend I'm telling on you."
I give him a look showing how I was unconvinced. He raised his plates above his head and let them drop. The plates shattered against the tiled floor, sending shards everywhere.
"Congratulations, you've broken some plates."
"Yeah, and you stabbed me."
"No I d-" I stop and try to grab the shard of glass he picked up. "Little white boy, stop!" I yell, restraining his arms to the cold tile.
The little boy squirms in my grip and tries to slice at my neck. I move back and pin his arm to the ground. The boy starts screaming and yelling all sorts of nonsense.
"Help! Help she's trying to kill me!" He screeches in a girly tone-proving he hasn't yet hit puberty.
The tall white boy comes running out with a look of panic. I look up at him and that's when he hits me. The little boy sliced me. From my nose to my lip. I fall back off of him and clutch my nose as blood floods out and drips down my chin into a puddle in my collarbone.
"What the hell is going on in here!" The older boy shouts.
"I went to give her my dishes and she threw them on the floor then tackled me. I managed to grab a shard to protect myself and I was screaming for help. Then you came and I sliced the slave." He says hysterically.
"That's a fucking lie!" I yell as some blood trickles in my open mouth.
"You shut up slave, no one told you to speak!" The brother spat.
My father, brothers and the twins all come running in.
"What's going on in here?" Carlos asks, examining the room.
"This little bitch tried to kill my brother!" He seethes.
"And your little shit head brother fucking stabbed me." I yell, uncovering my bloody nose to show proof.
"It was self defense!" The little shit screeched.
"What the bloody hell is going on in here!" The white woman shouts.
She stops in her tracks and stares at me. She stares at my bleeding face and the bloody shard that is on the floor. She looks around the room before finally opening her mouth.
"Where is your father?" She asks the boys.
"Upstairs mother. He told me to bring my dishes down to that peasant." He says giving me a glare.
"Get her out of here and patch her up so she stops staining my pristine floor." The mother grumbles.
"I'm nobody's slave." I mumble, walking over to my brothers.
"You're my slave. You're our slave. You're all our slaves." The older boy grins.
"That's why your father can't get enough of what's between my mom's legs. Es un esclavo de ese coño español." I grin. "He can't get enough of it.
(he's a slave to that spanish pussy.)
"I don't know what you just said but your lucky we don't skin your ass and eat you for dinner."
"Yeah, I'm real lucky. You wouldn't even have anyone to cook me for you." I spat.
"Vamos Raina, no vale la pena." Eduardo says with gritted teeth as he stares the older boy right in the eyes.
(C'mon Raina, its not worth it.)
"Sí, permite conseguir remendado, antes de que esos cortes se infectan." Carlos says in his gentle tone, gripping my shoulder.
(Yeah, lets get you patched up, before those cuts get infected.)
I look up at him as he gives me a weak, "just forget about it" smile. I sigh and obey.
"Lo que sea. No tengo que perder mi tiempo en este pedazo de mierda, de todos modos."
(Whatever. I don't need to waste my time on this piece of shit any longer, anyways.)
There was something about Carlos, I don't exactly know what it is really. But what ever it was had me obeying him no matter what. We were close and understood each other as if we were twins or the same person or something, even though we weren't.