by Reaper
I was born in Mexico but moved to California when I was seven months old We settled in the Canal (near San Rafael, CA) for about three years, then moved to San Pablo. In San Pablo we had two houses, a block away from each other. We lived in the smaller one at first but then decided to move to a bigger one as our family germinated. Meanwhile, we rented out the smaller house.
I went to school every day K-5. I used to receive perfect attendance awards ever year as well as my siblings. I have a two younger brothers and a sister. All three are four years apart from each other. I’m the oldest by a year and five moths.
I had a very good and loving upbringing. My parents are loving, helpful meticulous, benevolent, and strict. They gave us everything we needed, even excess. They would always tell us they loved us, hugged, kissed us, and would always try to prepare us for the future. We have never really been close to any other family members because most are in Mexico. The few that were in the USA have moved back.
The elementary school I attended in San Pablo was mostly African Americans. I used to get bullied by my own soccer friends in first grade and the start of second grade, and sometimes by random people I didn’t even know at school. I never told anyone what was happening at school.
One day in second grade, everything changed. I decided that I was never going to get bullied again and started getting into fights consistently. I loved the power, respect and fear I had acquired from the people I would beat up. Especially, when I beat up a kid whose brother everyone feared.
In the middle of the fifth grade, we moved back to Marin County due to our family losing our houses in San Pablo. We got an apartment in the Canal area. As soon as I got there, I started to get into trouble both at home and at school. I got suspended every year for violence and once for possession of alcohol.
My sophomore year. I used to be a very resentful, hard headed, militant, ignorant and impulsive young person. I started to get involved with gangs at the age of eleven and dedicated my life to that life style for four long, crucial, crazy and painful years.
Our family moved out of the Canal due to my parents observing that I had problems with one of the local neighborhood gangs. We moved to downtown San Rafael as I slowly got deeper and deeper into the game.
My fourteenth year was crazy. I got locked up for my first time for a robbery and got stabbed the same year. All the while my parents were oblivious to the life I lived outside that apartment. When I got arrested I told them I didn’t do it and when I got stabbed I told them and the cops, that I fell off a fence and landed on my back. No one believed me but I didn’t give a damn. My parents’ concerns and tears didn’t even affect me anymore.
As I got older, I kept severing people from my life that I thought
were sluts, fakes, punks, snitches and whomever did me dirty, even by accident. I developed a lot of hatred hanging out with my “patnas”. I wanted to be the hardest and downest. I was on a mission to be that. (Join a gang, lose your life).
I was only out for but three months of my fifteenth year and have been down ever since. (I’m about to turn 17). In my case someone got shot in the face. I got charged with two counts of pre-meditated attempted murder with gang and gun enhancements. (Use a gun, lose your life).
My own girl at the time and some close friends snitched. This comes to show that no one has your back but your family, no matter what they have said to you initially.
These nineteen months that I’ve been sitting have been eye opening. I have learned to love my family, learned from my mistakes, I have remorse, talk to God, and many other things.
This whole time I’ve received letters from about 10 different people of which four consistently write to me. I used to know a lot of people. It’s funny how only ten have wrote a simple letter. And where the homies at? Only one wrote to me out of like fifty and I used to consider him a brother not a homie. I have always kept it solid even in this case and they’re no where to be found. This shhh is no family. It’s a whole group of everything that I used to despise: fakes, snitches, two-faced, punks and traitors. (Trust your homies, lose your life).
I’m waiting to get transferred to DJJ or Y/A (Youth Authority) for a year and then to the pen. I’m hoping and praying to do less than half of my sentence due to new juvenile laws.
I had a good life before all this shhh happened and in a blink of an eye, I made a mistake that will cost me a great part of my life. The D/A and Judge don’t care if you’ve changed or have remorse or if the person died or not. They want to get rid of you.
The pain I carry that hurts is the fact that I let my family down. They won’t be able to see their oldest son become the dentist he wanted to be, won’t be able to spend family time together, won’t be able to do many things that normal families do. They will always carry the pain of their own son getting taken away from them at fifteen and they will never forget it. I know God is with us and will fix everything. We just need to be patient and endure these difficult times. (Trust God, win your life.)
Thank about your family or your future before you all do something because your life can be taken away in a blink of a eye – literally. I hope you all learn fro m my mistakes and open your eyes. God hears you and loves you. Keep your heads up to everyone going to the pen and facing serious charges. God bless you all.