La Bruja

From the moment I was born I was told where I belonged.

I was told what my place was in our family. The cook, the maid, the oldest, the caretaker. I was
never allowed to be who I wanted, never allowed to follow certain dreams because I must take
care of the family.

This place I grew up in was always called my home, but I never felt like I truly belonged, or that
my family even cared for my existence. My presence was ignored– my own siblings bonding
without me. I was never, and will never, be the favorite child.
My father: the provider, my mom: the stay at home parent taking care of the kids– which was a
duty always left to me. It was like that for as long as I can remember. My father always comes
home expecting a hot meal, house cleaned, clothes washed, bed made and the cycle would repeat
everyday.

I wake up at 5 in the morning, put out the breakfast and get the lunch ready for the day, make
sure my siblings have everything prepared for them all while my mom stayed home but she
never helped, that's what I was for she would always say.
I couldn’t ever ask her for help.

“Mom, can you help with the dishes so I can cook dinner?”
“Why would I do that?This is what you're here for.”

“Why haven’t you changed your brother's diaper?” She nagged.

“Why haven't you made your siblings their lunch?” And nagged.

This would be our conversation every weekend, or every school night when I was trying to get
my homework done.
I would always reply, "I'm doing homework, I need to study so I can get into a good college”
“What makes you think we're going to pay for that?” another way of my mother saying that they
plan on keeping me here till I’m old and gray, forcing me to live an eternity of their useless,
hypocritical nagging.

The cycle of everyday always repeating, always being told “No” I was sick of it.
I always obeyed because I wanted them to love me, to just get a “Im proud of you mija” from
my father or “Thank you for helping me out with the kids” from my mother. It never happened,
no thank yous, no “I'm proud of you”, not even “you're doing a good job”.

In the end I ran.

It was a normal day, but what I didn’t know was it would come as the day that changed my fate
forever. I had just had a long week of trying to impress my father and mother, all of my tios, and
tias came over for a family gathering as we always do on Saturdays. I took the whole day
prepping, setting the table, making sure I made enough food.

My tios just wouldn’t stop talking.

“Ah Mija you’re rice came out soggy” one tio would say,
“Aren’t you going to serve me? Ray, you need to teach your daughter better!” another would say.
All I could do was ignore them and hope my father or mother would not scold me later.
That night, I made everyone tea. I was so angry by the end of dinner, everyone putting in their
unasked for 2 cents when in the end I'm just a kid who is catering to grown adults.

I was just filled with so much anger, hearing everyone talk about me. I was making them tea with
ginger, chamomile while replaying the conversations.
“Why can’t you be more like your brothers and sisters?”
“Youre a female you should be in the kitchen”
"You're the eldest, it's your job to take care of your parents.”
This prison expands every minute of them being here. I was angry– frustrated beyond belief,
crying into the boiling water, I just wanted them to shut up. The next thing I know everyone falls
into a deep sleep, I didn’t understand what was happening. But then I remembered I’ve heard
stories of magic, and witchcraft happening in Mexican culture. How it was frowned upon, never
to be brought into this house.

Then it happened a second time, my cousin being the victim this time. She was always saying
rude things, calling me names, throwing it in my face that I was no one.
“You aren’t pretty, who would love you?”
“Go fetch me some water since that's all you seem to know how to do”
The night Lily made her snarky comments about me was when that's when I decided enough was
enough. I mixed the herbs, carefully grinding each leaf, making sure I added the right amount of
water. Not following any words from a journal but rather from the energy the herbs are giving,
feeling nature flow right through me. I put the potion in something I knew she would be using.
Taking away her evil voice, making it so that when she speaks it hurts, just like her words she
would say. Now she would never have Jesus.

I couldn't handle this torment anymore, my father and mother treating my siblings better. In
secret, applying to colleges, applying for scholarships, packing my stuff and moving in silence,
never leaving behind my herbs. Finally leaving and creating a home that belongs to me and me
only. I had to get away from the ones trying to confine me, from those who were finally afraid of
what I could do.