Nailed

6/1

Spring began is so beautiful. Cool. Flowers blooming and the air smells sweet and fresh. School is good. My grades are okay. Math is a pain. And I’m in LOVE! We met at Christmas break. His name is Hector. He’s adorable and I’m the center of his life. We’re so in love. His touch sends chills up my arms and his hugs warm me all over. We went to the beach. LOL. It was cold but we huddled together under his blanket and talked about our future together and marriage. Yes, soon we’ll be married, but we haven’t told anyone because mama wants me to finish college. She’s always worrying about me. I will, Mama, I will. Hector wants me to finish school as well. Says its important because we’re immigrants. Isn’t this country descended from immigrants? He doesn’t interfere with my school studies He always encourages me. Scolds me when I don’t follow my plan. He even tells me he won’t come over if I don’t study. He’s funny. I don’t believe him. He couldn’t stay away for even a night. Last night, he quizzed me for my citizenship test. I didn’t miss a single question. I’m ready! Mama made me promise that I would finish it and become legal. I asked Hector when he would take his test. He isn’t enrolled. Why? If you’re a citizen, then can’t deport you, can they? He said because we weren’t born here, they’ll find a way to deport you. Why? What have we done? He said we’ve done nothing. Absolutely nothing. That scares me. We came here for a fresh start. We pay taxes. We went to school to better ourselves, to do our part to better our new country. We follow the rules. Why? He told me that it is because our skin is brown. We’re not white enough. Surely there are people out there who will help us. Stand up for us. Stop this madness. I begged him to at least enroll. He only laughed. Please, for me. Please Hector. They won’t do anything if you try to fit in. He laughed again. Then he hugged me and told me he loved me and left. Please, God, watch over my Hector. I know you won’t let anything happen to him. There is beauty in the world. I see it. I know you will protect it . . . and me.

***

I thought about Hector’s comment about it being important for immigrants to get educated. How is it important? Why? Why is it so bad to be an immigrant? Didn’t immigrants build this country? Why are they afraid of us? Is there some special test besides passing our citizenship test that we must complete to prove our worth?

6/3

I can’t believe how busy I’ve been. Finals next week. Citizenship test on Saturday. Then I take the oath. I will finally be a citizen, safe from the gangs and police raids back home. What a beautiful life it will be with Hector. I can’t wait to tell him. I haven’t seen him since the night before last. Studying I guess. I think about his words. I pray that he is wrong. Mama was acting weird today. She showed me a special closet, a hiding place behind the fridge that Papa built before he went back to Mexico. He cut it out of the back bedroom closet. I asked why. Why am I sitting in this narrow cage behind the wall? She looked hard at me. Times are not good for us anymore. You will understand when we aren’t here. What does she mean, when we aren’t here? We’ll have our citizenship papers. No more green cards. We’re legal. Doesn’t that count? Everyone in this country are descendants of immigrants unless their family tree includes indigenous natives. They wouldn’t dare. Mama only shook her head. She said I was naïve, too trusting. What do you have when you don’t have trust? Nothing. We came here to get away from the bad life, but has it followed us here? God! Where is Hector?

6/4

He's gone! They took him from school! They’re sending him to Venazuela. He was brought here as a baby. His parents are from Guadalajara. He speaks English better than Spanish. He can’t even read Spanish. What’s he going to do? What am I going to do? What’s happening?!!! Hector, I need you. Mama. Is that what that room is for? Are they going to take me? Why? Why? Why! What have we done? Why do they hate us?

***

It's so quiet. Too quiet. Mama’s at work and Hector’s gone. I’m in the hiding room mama showed me. It’s very small. I have to slide the fridge to the side a few inches and squeeze in. A rope is hooked to the back of the fridge through a hole in the door. After I close the door, I pull the fridge back against the door with the rope. I untie the rope and pull it through the hole and plug the hole. It’s so dark. I have to use the light from my phone to write. It's so hot. How can anyone survive? There’s some water and snacks. I can’t last more than a few days Then what? I found a small notebook. Contacts for when I get out. When I get out? What a joke. Maybe it would be better to just give up. It’s the same fate – here or there – dead or alive – barely.

***

After midnight. Mama’s usually home by now. God, what if they’ve taken her? The street is loaded with cops. Noisy. Sirens. The house is dark. I’m writing this under the light in my phone. On the floor. Away from the windows. I hear a truck. Voices. In front of the house. I got to hide!

***

My head is pounding. I can’t swallow. It feels like cotton is in my mouth. I need something to drink. Water, but I can’t move. They just crashed our front door. God!

***

I hear many voices. Calling my name. Telling me they would be easier on me if I showed myself than if they have to look for me. So scared. Feel sick. I almost threw up. My head is spinning. Please go away. God, make them go away. They’re in the kitchen. My head my stomach

6/5???

morning – i think. what day i don’t know can’t get out. two voices. have to pee. can’t eat. can’t drnk. might here me. why am I doing this? just opened the fridge. bastards. stealing our food. a prisoner in my own house. this is so wrong.

***

They’re gone. So good to get out of there. But for how long? What happens when they come back? They’ll be back. They got Mama. They know I’m here. They won’t leave until they get me. I’m fair game because I haven’t taken my test yet. It doesn’t matter that I’m here legally. They want me because of my skin. It’s too brown. Too dark. It always comes down to skin color. I should just leave. But where will I go? Where will they take me? What will they do to me . . . a woman. Like Hector, here is all I know. Why? Why do they hate us so? Hector. My Hector. Baby I miss you. I love you. Where are you? Help me!

***

there back found the hole in the door one broke thru the hole and shined a light in don’t think he saw me they don’t talk hammering hammering the walls and door playing with me torturing me trying to scare me out come and get me i won’t give in to them now don’t trust them hate them god the noise the pounding my head splitting.

***

gone i got to get out give myself up – THEY NAILED THE DOOR SHUT!!!!