A bad ending, can be the start of something good.

Guess what?....

I'm B A C K!

This time with another one of my memories. This one, not as exciting or tragic, but it has it's glitches.
Since my mother and me were newbies in this new land, we had no where to go, except for my great-aunt's house. Back at that time, we used to all get along with each other. She let us stay in one of the rooms in the house for a couple of months and even helped mom get a job.
Everything seemed perfect. From my perspective of course. I went to school, focused on trying to learn this new language that was being thrown at me, so what was I going to notice?
Other than the fact that my age didn't really give me much access to the adult life.
That house, held many special moments for me, like for example, my 5th birthday. It was the only one that we got to celebrate there but it was amazing. I remember not having made friends yet so I had to make up some to invite. The table had a deliciously tempting cake on it, and surrounding it were my toys. I had put my favorite barbie next to a stuffed version of Pikachu ; since he was her date. It seems like a very lonely birthday party, but believe it or not I was very happy. I had my mother, who was getting the best out of this experience here, and my aunt with my cousins whom I really didn't know but liked very much.

Of course, now all those memories, including the birthday are just a haze to me. Covered by an angry-looking dark cloud.

That aunt, who I really loved for her hospitality and support turned out to be not so exact.
Like I mentioned before, there are things that as a child you don't realize, but sooner or later everything comes to the surface.
Every time my mom speaks about her time living there with me, I sense her whole body cringing. As if she recalls times that she wishes she didn't and couldn't. But alas she does, since ; in fact, somethings in life, never leave you. She told me, once I was older, about my aunt. How after a while of helping my mother out with finding a job she started charging my mother for time spent there, she also mentioned how in just a matter of months, my mother was capable of going from her current weight to how much she weighed when she was 18. Don't be fooled, my mother isn't the type of woman who goes on diets or exercises. She's the type that, if you see her losing weight, then you know something is wrong.
How did I look over this?
I was angry with my mother, because she chose not to do anything about it. But there's not much you can do when you have no where to go and no other family.
I was angry with myself, because I couldn't do anything before about it. But that's inevitable.
I was angry with my aunt, because family doesn't do that. They never stab each other the way she did to my mom. But...oh, wait. There is no 'but' for her. Everything she did was a choice. Not like she was forced into torturing my mother.
The time came when we got to leave that hell hole and start to truly find the meaning of "the american dream".

And where is that you may ask yourself?

Well, ....