The Truth in Our Stories by Mónica Tornoe

Author:Mónica Tornoe
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Izzard Ink Publishing
Published: 2022-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

MIRIAM JAIMES

“It didn’t matter how smart I was or how good my grades were; I was not allowed to study or work and do what I wanted because of my immigration status.”

—MIRIAM JAIMES

I am sitting in the back seat of a car, and my sister is sitting right next to me. A stranger is driving us somewhere. The driver is a woman who I don’t know. I don’t know what we are doing or where we are going. I don’t really know anything about what is happening. All I know is that I am feeling very anxious because my mom and dad are not here with us. The woman stops the car and gives us something; she wants us to take medicine. I think it is Benadryl or something like that. My sister and I obey and drink it.

I don’t know all of what happened after that. All I know is that when I opened my eyes, we were in a McDonald’s in San Antonio, Texas.

I was born in a small town south of Mexico City called Luvianos, the middle child of three girls. Growing up, I remember having everything we wanted. We had a good economic position, and we had a gorgeous two-story home. When I was eleven years old, my dad came in one day and, out of the blue, told us that we were moving to the US to work. I felt confused. If we had everything we needed and a good and stable economic position, why did we need to go elsewhere for work?

Later in life, I would discover that my dad wasn’t telling the whole story. The real reason we needed to leave Mexico was that he was being persecuted by organized crime in Mexico. My dad left first, and about three to five months later, my mother, my sisters, and I were on our way, although separately, because that’s how my parents arranged it.

I remember thinking that we were going on some kind of vacation, but when we got to the hotel, my mother introduced my sister and me to an older lady who said that she was going to take us to be with our dad. My mother stayed behind. That is how I found myself with the woman who was a stranger to me, driving my sister and me in her car somewhere.

I remember a great fear coming over me. I was an eleven-year-old girl, going to a completely strange place with a complete stranger. This strange lady was preparing us three cups of juice and dissolving two pills in each one. I later learned that it was indeed Benadryl to knock us out. I started feeling very sleepy and closed my eyes. When I woke up, I was outside a McDonald’s, and the strange lady had bought chicken nuggets and hamburgers for us. Then she took us to my grandmother’s house in Austin. The next morning, my mother showed up with a man, to whom my grandmother gave some money. I

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