The year was 1996. I was 18 years old. And, what I wanted more than anything was freedom. Freedom from my 13 years of hell, that started the day I met my mother.

I was in my first year of community college, working full time and recently engaged to my high school sweetheart. You can say that I was a good girl. I never once talked back to my parents much less rolled my eyes or any such thing. My older sister Julissa and I each paid a household bill and paid for every personal expense. We cooked, cleaned and took care of our little sister and brother. We were never once recognized for being what we actually were- very good daughters. To the contrary, we were constantly berated and beaten.

But we were tough, me and Julissa.

It started off as a joke. My older sister and I were in our bedroom and I told her “Today I’m packing my things and I’m leaving. I am 18 years old, and I don’t have to live here anymore”. She didn’t believe me but I started packing. My sister became very nervous. She was the gentle soul. Me not so much. I was already hardened. She kept saying “Mami is going to kill you”. Julissa was not kidding. Mami was going to kill me, or at least try.

Packing my belongings gave me strength and determination. My mind was made up. I called my closest friend Cornelia. I asked her to please pick me up immediately. I needed to be out of there before my mother got home from work. Cornelia came through. She arrived and I remember Julissa crying. She cried a lot. Again, the gentle soul. I asked Cornelia if I could stay with her for a few days until I figured things out. She said no problem. A couple of days went by and surprisingly I was still alive. 

Eventually my mother called to say that she and my dad were coming to my job. They were going to take me home even if it was by force.

At the time I worked at Pollo Tropical. I worked the drive-thru window. I loved my job. I’ve always loved to work. I told my boss and co-workers the situation. They all agreed that since I was 18, legally my parents could do nothing and that I should call the police if they arrived at the restaurant. I knew no matter what, I would not call the cops on my parents.

My mother drove into the drive-thru lane and pulled up to the window. My left hand was resting on the open windowsill and my mother grabbed my hand and took off my engagement ring. She said that I didn’t deserve it. I never saw the ring again.

She said that they would be waiting for me in the parking lot then drove away.

Shit was I nervous. But I had to finish my shift. And I had to get Cornelia’s car back to her.

My manager insisted on walking me to Cornelia’s car after closing. I refused. I walked out and all hell broke loose. My parents dragged me kicking and screaming into their car. My father was pulling me by the hair while my mother yelled and hit me. I was fighting with all my might to break loose, but I was no match for them. I remember when they finally got me into the car I was kicking one free leg out of the car door. My dad slammed the car door so hard on my foot I’m surprised he didn’t break it. My dad is no small man.

I wish I could say the beating stopped once I was in the car, but it didn’t. They were like wild beasts. I thought they had lost their minds. They were beating the crap out of me the entire way home. Luckily it was only a few blocks.

I wish I could say the beating stopped once they dragged me into the house but it didn’t. My face was completely bruised, all black and blue. My head was covered in knots. My hair was falling off my head from all the hair pulling.

I was not shocked by my mother’s behavior. Not in the least. But my dad hadn’t hit me in years. And here he was punching me like I was a man. I really did think that they were going to kill me. It was nightmarish. Eventually my parents got tired of beating me and told me to go to my room. As she closed the bedroom door, my mother said “We are going to lock you in a cage”. I believed her.

When I woke up the next morning, I walked out of the bedroom. My mother was in the kitchen. She looked over at me and said “What are you doing here? We don’t want you here.”

I ran to the room, grabbed my purse, and left. I never entered that house again.

I walked to Pollo Tropical. I had to return the car to Cornelia.

I was finally free, but broken in ways I would spend a lifetime trying to restore.