My
Apartment
By:
Leidy Ovando
I
believe every person has at least once felt that they have more responsibility
than they could handle. The worries become heavier every day and we
feel older than we really are. This kind of situation makes us become
a better person and to learn from those hard moments. I had many hard
moments in my life but the one that most stands out in my mind is
my first home when I came to the United States. It was the first time
in eight years that I was living with my parents. I was really happy
but I never imagined the hard situation that I was going to go through.
For
two years my parents and I lived in a studio, which formed part of
an apartment occupied by a Puerto Rican man named Luis. When I came
to the United States, my parents had already rented the studio but
they thought that we would find an apartment as soon as I arrived
in New York. The studio was very small and uncomfortable. We only
had a TV, a radio, a bunk bed and a closet and those things occupied
most of the space. We had to be very careful of everything in order
not to bother the owner of the apartment. At first Luis was kind to
us. He treated me like I was his granddaughter, he was like part of
the family. Everything was all right, even though we did not have
any privacy, we tried to be understanding with each other.
After around one year, we still could not find an apartment. The
problems started when my father installed a satellite TV system.
Luis complained saying that my father had to talk to him before
putting anything up. It was infuriating for us that we had to tell
him about every single step that we made. It was as if he was invading
our privacy. After that, the old man began to be mean to us and to
argue with my father all the time. My parents expanded their work
time and got home at 9:00 or 10:00 at night. As they were never home,
I had to deal with the man. He was always telling me what to do and
complained about things that never happened.
As my mother was never home, we stopped cooking. We ate fast food
most of the time and once a week we cooked at my aunt's house. I was
not used to eating fast food and suddenly I was eating fast food every
day and taking care of myself and everything at home. The owner started
to play loud music late at night so we could not sleep, but that was
not the worst thing. He would go into the bathroom early in the morning
and spend one hour inside the bathroom, knowing that I had to go to
school. I knew that my parents could not do anything, but I felt as
if they were leaving me with all the problems, as if they were escaping
without thinking about me.
During the summer when my parents were not home, he used to turn off
the electricity and leave the house. The switch was in his house so
I could not turn it on. My parents were fighting all the time blaming
one another for the problems, but without doing anything to change
it. They were desperate, but they thought the best way to avoid the
problem was never to be home. I felt too much weight on my shoulders,
because while my parents were working, I was living in hell.
Those moments were really hard for me, having the responsibility of
taking care of problems that did not belong to me. My parents did
not realized how they hurt me when they let me deal with the problem.
If was not as hard for them as it was for me. Many times I wanted
to escape from everything, but then I understood that they did not
do it on purpose.
I believe every person has at least once felt they were carrying a
problem that did not belong to them. This experience has helped me
to become more responsible and to appreciate every moment with those
that I love.
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