Hey, my name is Brad. No, not short for Bradley or Bradford, just Brad. I’m named for my dad whose name is Bradford, but he didn’t want me to be a junior. Boy, am I glad about that.
I am pretty much a spoiled brat. Living on a ranch in the middle of Massachusetts has given me the comforts any young boy can desire. I like anything that goes fast: horses, cars, motorcycles. My horse’s name is Silver Bullet. No one else is allowed to ride him but me. He runs as his name suggests. My dad bought me a BMW M6 coupe – the one where the doors go up, not out – when I got my license. I had decals painted on the sides with Silver Bullet and Gentle Rider, our other horse, racing with dirt swirling behind them. Silver Bullet is painted on the hood as well. Oh, and let’s not forget my Harley V-Rod Muscle in Brilliant Silver. It’s a mean machine.
I live with my dad and stepmother. My dad remarried after my mother died. I was ten when it happened and losing her at that age changed my life. I became calloused and spiteful. I made friends who share my views in life, and I intend to party ‘til the cows come home, if I had any. My friends go to Easthampton High School with me. I’m 16 and I’ll be a junior at the start of the school year in a few weeks.
Lately, Dad’s been trying to reverse my downward trend. I fight him though, even though I know he’s telling me stuff that’s okay. Sometimes I give in because I’m tired of hearing him talk. Other times I give in because, if I don’t, he’s threatened to take away my Harley. There’s no way I’m letting that happen.
I really loved my mom. She was the best. Her warmth and kisses meant so much to me. If I believed in angels, she would fit the bill. I guess that’s why I still call my father ‘Daddy.’ She liked it when I called him by that name and calling him by that name also reminds me of her. However, I only call him ‘Daddy’ when no one else is around. But don’t be mistaken, it’s not wimpy. You’d be surprised by the tone I use sometimes.
My stepmother is the opposite. Her demon-like attitude drives me away from my dad. As if things couldn’t get any worse, she has a son named Butch. He comes to visit sometimes, but whenever he does, it’s like hell here.
I often wonder why God would allow my mom to die when I needed her so much. I want to believe He wants the best for me, but I’m not so sure. It’s not like I’m trying very hard to do the right things. I really wish someone like my mom would enter my life somehow. I don’t think Mommy would like what I’ve become, but I don’t know how to change myself back or if I even want to. I feel like I’m in an eternal struggle. I want to love and to be loved, but I don’t know if I’m even capable of letting myself.
Anyway, if you care to, you have been invited to join me on my life’s journey.
Hola, mi nombre es Kressa y soy de México (Hi, my name is Kressa and I’m from Mexico). Yo hablará en inglés para usted (I will speak in English for you). My parents are planning a trip to the United States. We are going to live in a place called Massachusetts on some farm in the middle of nowhere. I hate the fact that I have to leave a place I love to go to some unknown area to be someone’s slave. My mother told me she worked for this family a long time ago before I was born, and that she’s been requested to return. The pay is great, and we’ll have a place to live, she tells me.
Why do I have to leave all my relatives in Mexico City, and who will I meet when I get there? I’m scared. I know English, but I prefer Spanish. Now I’ll be expected to go to an American school. I don’t even know if I’ll fit in, but I don’t have a choice.
My father isn’t too happy about the move either. I just wish he would put his foot down and make my mom stay, but he’s out of work right now, so this is how we’re going to survive. Basically, we’ll be live in servants performing cooking and cleaning duties.
I’m 15 years old now. I celebrated my birthday in June. It was grand. In Spanish countries, turning 15 is a big deal. There was a huge party and I felt like a princess for the day. It’s the day I’m considered grown up.
It’s funny how I couldn’t choose to remain behind while they moved away. I am angry and I resent them for this. I was hoping to celebrate my 16th birthday in Mexico, but I don’t think that’s going to happen now. We leave tomorrow.
I want to say one more thing, there’s something strange about my parents’ interaction with each other. I’m not sure what it is, and my mom won’t tell me. Usually, Mama and I talk about everything – from what we think about to the boys I have crushes on. We have a very close relationship. Even my cousins think it’s too close. That’s why I’m bothered by the fact she won’t tell me about what’s happening between her and Papa. She’s also keeping her relationship with our new boss a secret. Hmm. Please come along on my journey to see what happens next.Buy now.