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Written by: “Irene Naridza”
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Inspirational Photo: https://pxhere.com
IA PIC MADE BY HOTPOT: https://hotpot.ai/art-generator
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Hello, old me, the new me is speaking. I have
a lot to say; I think I’ll finally stop talking to you, old picture of me. My
moms thought it was kind of scary, so they gave me a couple of new stuffed
animals to chat with. For the moment I don’t have any real friends, but what
I’m going to say is not something I’d share with them. For old times’ sake,
let’s have one last chat.
Okay, let’s recap. I came to this country
with my parents in an August looking for a better life… or so they kept saying.
Daniel and Selena were my parents… biological parents, they were never very
pleasant people. Maybe because they were young when they had me, or because
they very likely didn’t want me.
Daniel was almost never home, not because he
worked a lot as a construction worker but because he spent his time at the
nightclub, wasting a good part of what he earned. Selena was a waitress and
although she spent more time at home, she did it on the couch. She watched soap
operas while drinking bottles of alcohol she stole from her job. Her body was
there, but her mind wasn’t.
They never paid much attention to me, and
that was good in a way. If they had noticed that I secretly put on Selena’s
clothes to play at being a princess, I think they would have beaten me or
worse. The first time I tried on that lipstick of mom’s that captivated me,
Daniel was there. I still remember the pain of the punch he gave me.
Things in our country worsened: gangs
increased their power and the state diminished its own. So, like many people,
we ended up emigrating. For the first time it seemed my biological parents were
paying attention to me; we had conversations about everything we would do once
we were on the other side. Things like picnics, barbecues, better-paid jobs and
walks in the park were some items on the list.
While we were crossing Mexico, we were a very
united group; they no longer yelled at me and even called me things like ‘sweetheart’
or ‘champion’ Some guards on the other side of the border saw us; when they saw
me and Selena hugging me tightly, he decided to turn a blind eye… or whatever.
At that time, I didn’t speak English beyond ‘Hello’, ‘gu bai’, ‘wachurneim’, ‘gad
mornin’, so I didn’t understand anything they said. They took us to a building
with flags and then let us go.
That same day we went with one of Daniel’s
contacts who rented us a single-story house in a quiet suburb. Later I learned
that here they’re called “bungalows.” It had an amazing kitchen — though
locals would say it’s normal — two bedrooms, a living room and even a
smaller room with washing machines. It didn’t have a garage, but it wasn’t
necessary; there was a bus stop very close where all the lines passed.
The neighborhood was just like in the movies;
only houses as far as you could see and no little shops or small commercial
places like restaurants or bakeries nearby. To have something like that you had
to go to those giant shopping centers. In Ecuador if we had one like that it
was in the big city and had all kinds of wonders. But what really surprised me
were the supermarkets, truly “super.” They were three times bigger than the
largest supermarket in my country.
What you did not find anywhere were those
open-air markets with fresh vegetables. A disadvantage if you want things
straight from the ground without too many chemicals, but an advantage if you
dislike buying unwashed greens and parsley from a stall next to a sewer, with
rats walking across the floor.
Everything here is very big, but
unfortunately, so are the vices. Daniel now spent days away, came back drunk
making a huge scene that drew the looks of all the neighbors. Selena did the
same as in Ecuador, but with bigger bottles with names I couldn’t pronounce and
soap operas in English. Those kind words and good treatment vanished. They went
back to being the same as always, but so did I. I kept taking advantage of
their absences to wear her new clothes and play at being a princess; since
these were more colorful, they suited me even better.
At first school seemed strange to me, much
smaller than in the movies; later I learned it’s because of how educational
institutions are divided in this country. Here school is divided into three:
Elementary School, Middle School and High School. I was in the first. In my
previous country, public schools tend to have EVERYTHING in the same facility.
Kids like me ended up interacting with teenagers about to become adults.
It was common for the older kids to be
hostile to the little ones, who in any case saw them as popular kids and role
models. I paid more attention to the girls; they preferred to spend time in
their groups, sitting on the grass while they chatted or drew. I copied them,
sat in a corner and drew girly things like skirts, dresses and hearts.
Because here we all had the same age range,
it was definitely less hostile. Everyone preferred to play or talk about
cartoons before being violent. They saw me as the foreigner — although I
wasn’t the only one — but I never took it badly. It was quite enjoyable to
be in classrooms with colorful walls, spacious playgrounds and bathrooms that
didn’t smell like latrines. The teachers were friendly, although math was still
a nightmare.
I thought the language would be a problem,
but the teachers were bilingual and many of the other children knew a bit of
Spanish because it was taught as a foreign language class; they taught me
English together with other foreign children. I always wrote down homework
instructions in Spanish to understand well what I had to do. I even created my
own bilingual dictionary in a little notebook; as I learned English that
stopped being necessary. Academically speaking, I was doing fine.
They always invited me to play tag, but I got
tired very quickly and ended up sitting in a corner. To avoid getting bored I
returned to my habit of drawing in my little notebook. There were bullies, of
course; they mocked my drawings or my English pronunciation. The teacher
scolded them and punished them. That’s how most of the time I managed to be
invisible to them; they weren’t very persistent.
I never had money for lunch, but I was used
to not eating at that hour; it wasn’t a problem for me. For those bullies it
was the opposite. Later they began to give us an apple with free juice.
In physical education the teacher allowed me
not to push myself too hard, because there were times I fell to the ground from
exhaustion. The treatment was the same as when another child was sick. Art
class was the best; the teacher taught me techniques to draw all kinds of
clothing and the human figure. The next time I tried to draw Cinderella — my
favorite princess — it was one of the best drawings in class.
When I talked with the other kids — or
tried to — they would say they couldn’t wait to be in high school, be
popular, drive cars and even prepare for their dream careers. Everyone wanted
to be astronauts or veterinarians; I said I wanted to be an illustrator. They
told me that, although it sounded boring, I could do well.
At home I did common household chores like
loading the laundry or cleaning up the mess my biological parents left. Of
course, I did it wearing Selena’s dresses. They were short on her, but on me
they fit like a maid’s costume. That’s what I like most about them. It was
almost like Cinderella, my favorite princess.
Here washing machines are more common. It was
a great relief not to have to spend hours washing by hand in a cold cement
washer or, worse, in the river. What was new was that thing called a dryer, the
same size as a washing machine; it dries clothes with heat. No need to put them
out in the sun. That’s how I never left the house dressed like that. I simply
closed the curtains and got to work. Daniel and Selena were so noisy that even
with music on I could hear when they returned, which gave me time to run to my
room and change.
Finally, they discovered me because I forgot
to close one of the curtains. It wasn’t my biological parents but the neighbors
to the left. I was dancing with a broom until after a couple of twirls I
realized the window was clear and they were in their yard. They looked at me
with curiosity instead of disapproval. I got so nervous I pulled the curtain
rod down trying to close it; I had to bring a chair to put it back. They were
already laughing with a certain tenderness. Those were very long seconds. I
thought they’d tell everyone, but I never heard gossip about it; that reassured
me.
Over time I came up with the idea of buying
my own girl clothes. Selena’s designs were fine, but they didn’t compare to
clothes aimed at girls my age. Also, I had always wanted Cinderella’s dress.
Shyly, I offered to do small jobs for a little money in the neighborhood.
The aforementioned neighbors were the ones
who gave me the most work: mowing their lawn or helping them deliver boxes of
clothes to some of their customers. Back then they owned a small boutique with
an online purchase option: ‘The Reeves’ Boutique.’
I was their local delivery person. They never
sent me very far so I used my bicycle with a basket screwed to the back. It was
relaxing and a way to exercise, even if it exhausted me. What I liked most was
being close to so much pretty girls’ clothing.
It was a bit strange to discover that they
were not sisters or close friends; they were — and still are — wives. I had
never seen anything like that in my country. They weren’t at all like the
things my parents used to say. They were affectionate, very kind and attentive.
They always gave me good money for making all their deliveries. A nice
surprise.
In December there was a lot of snow outside.
I used some of the money I had earned to go to the supermarket’s clothing
section and buy some pairs of tights and warm underwear. I planned to tell a
lie so they wouldn’t look at me strangely, but it wasn’t necessary. The cashier
was more interested in a magazine than in me. She didn’t see the products, just
the price screen and the cash.
With them under my pants, a sweatshirt and a
jacket, I went out to clear the snow from the front of the house. I didn’t
think it would really be that cold at that time of year. A nice moment
was when I helped Daniel remove snow from the roof. We climbed up with ladders
and shoveled it off. He laughed when I slipped and even threw snowballs at me.
When we finished, Selena had made hot chocolate. Moments like those gave me
hope of being a normal family, but they lasted little.
The Reeves invited us to their New Year’s
dinner. They sent the message through me because they never could coordinate
with my biological parents when they were sober enough or not hungover. I told
them my parents had refused the offer, but that they allowed me to go. I never
actually told them anything; it was nonsense. They were always out partying on
the 24th and returned in time to go out again on the 31st and come back on
January 2nd.
We ate slices of smoked turkey, almond rice
and grape soda. There I told them I didn’t usually celebrate my birthday; they
asked if it was because I followed some religion. When I told them it was
because my biological parents didn’t care about my birthday and promised to
take me to celebrate it in a bar when I was older, they looked at me surprised.
I asked why the rest of their family wasn’t
there on that special date; they said they didn’t want them around. Surprised I
said that even if a relative is unpleasant, in the end they’re family and
that’s what you have. They giggled and, gently, explained that no one should
tolerate mistreatment for being who they are, no matter where it comes from. I
nodded immediately; it felt like being scolded, though they were really giving
me an important piece of advice.
Next, we exchanged gifts; I brought them a
table ornament, a swan. They gave me a long dark-blue coat that looked more
like a dress when buttoned. It had star-shaped buttons and the word “Kitty” on
the back. They said if I thought it wasn’t a very boyish design they could
change it. I shook my head; I didn’t want to be rude and I certainly liked that
model better. I thanked them a thousand times.
It was my first time wearing a garment
designed for a girl my age. I had already used tights and similar items, but
they couldn’t compare with this. The coat wasn’t just comfortable; seeing my
reflection was a very pleasant sensation. It was less coarse than the boy’s
jackets I had and although it felt lighter, it was warmer. It was to be worn
over a skirt or dress.
When I returned home, I wore it with the
white tights I had recently bought. It wasn’t only the way I looked; it was how
it made me feel, it was incredible. I wore it all the time while I walked
around the house doing chores, sat at the little table in the living room to
draw, or at night falling asleep on the couch watching those super entertaining
holiday movies.
I put it in the wash and dryer so it would be
ready for the new year. I don’t know if I had gotten used to the cold in those
few days, but being on the bungalow’s roof in that outfit felt less cold than
with my boy clothes. It was dark and no one saw me. I stayed amazed watching
the fireworks launched everywhere. While I watched the dark sky light up in
colored frost, I wished my biological parents would change and that I could
have a real home.
Unfortunately, the following months were more
of the same. Selena and Daniel continued being rude and absent. Spending time
at school or working with the neighbors were the most enjoyable moments. Then
summer came and both moments ended. The Reeves had improved a lot in their
business. Now they had a larger shop in a better part of town. Since they
earned more money, they managed to fulfill one of their dreams: moving to a
nicer house.
Before they left, they gave me a present,
they said it was an early birthday gift, which is July 12th. It was a box with
a sky-blue dress in my size, white tights and translucent white shoes. I didn’t
know what to say. I only thanked them softly.
It felt unreal that an adult, instead of
yelling at me or hitting me for liking girls’ clothes, would end up giving me
an extremely feminine outfit. I put the box under my bed and it stayed there
for a long time. It was something very strange and very beautiful at the same
time. Something I dreamed of but that was forbidden.
Classes had started again when I finally
decided I wanted to try it on, but Selena started spending more time at home,
too much, really. There was never a gap where I could wear it. I decided to
wait; I wanted the first time being my favorite princess to be a special
occasion.
One day I tripped playing tag and tore my
pants. I didn’t care about the scrape on my knee; I worried my biological
parents would yell at me. I bought thread and a star patch. I sewed it on and
the hole was gone. It felt very rewarding. Needles, fabric and thread were what
now caught my interest.
I bought a sewing kit and a book about
sewing. Not having fabric, I used a pair of pants to try to make a skirt, but
it was a disaster. At least I managed to sew it back to its original shape. I
still had money left from my delivery job; the dilemma was whether to buy
girls’ clothes or buy fabric and learn to make my own. I decided it would be
both.
None of that happened; I ended up using the
money to buy food. I couldn’t ask my biological parents for money; Daniel was
increasingly absent and Selena spent more and more time unconscious because of
those bottles. In Ecuador I once woke her to ask for the same thing and she
slapped me; another time I turned off the TV to avoid wasting electricity. She
woke up and threw a can at my head while cursing at me to turn it back on, only
to fall asleep a moment later.
She had good aim when throwing things. The
firsts days here I told her she could be a baseball player since that is
popular in this country, but she told me to shut the fact up… or something like
that. I learned not to bother her when she was on her couch. I bought
ingredients and cooked simple meals. I left their portions out. At first, they
did eat them. I could tell because I’d find the pots empty on the living room
table.
One day, returning from school, I found
Daniel leaving the house. It was uncommon for him to be there at that hour so I
greeted him warmly. He pushed me aside, told me to have dinner ready and
hurried off. In that moment I didn’t take it as rude; I simply did what he
said. But the next day I noticed the food still intact in the pots; I reheated
it so it wouldn’t go to waste. At night I would make dinner again, but the next
day the same happened.
That year’s Halloween was in a few days. In
my old country that was dangerous. Who sends kids unsupervised around a
neighborhood at night so strangers hand them candy? The least bad thing that
could happen is being mugged at gunpoint. Luckily this place is safer, but
there was something more important: it’s a night where everyone can dress as
they like under the excuse of ‘it’s a costume’ so it was the perfect time to be
Cinderella.
At the supermarket I bought what I was
missing: a pumpkin basket and a yellow wig that I hid under my bed. Since I
didn’t want gossip to reach my biological parents’ ears, I planned to go to
another nearby neighborhood. I even mapped out the route. Everything was ready.
When there was one day left, the man who
rented us the house came to collect the rent, it was about $2,000 My English
had improved a lot, so I told him Daniel wasn’t home but Selena was. I went to
finish dinner. I heard the TV go off, but no yelling. Then the man came to me,
took me by the arm and led me to the front yard where he told me to wait.
A while later some police officers arrived
along with some medics. A kind woman gave me the news: Selena… was gone… I
mean, she had died. They never explained exactly what happened. They simply
said it was some kind of accident related to alcohol. From there I don’t
remember much, only that they took me to a kind of orphanage with other sad
children.
I couldn’t take anything I cared about from
the house; they only let me take a family photo that I didn’t care about, that
is you. The box with the dress, girls’ clothes and my sewing kit stayed in that
bungalow, hidden under the bed. I still didn’t accept that Selena wouldn’t wake
up. No matter the drunkenness or how long she slept hung over, she always woke
up. For days I thought she’d wake up in the morgue and I could return home, but
days turned into weeks and the concept of death began to become clear to me.
There was a school next to that place with
colder teachers. It wasn’t a very nice place nor private. Everyone was distant.
I was the lonely boy in a corner not because I was comfortable there; no one
wanted to talk to me. I didn’t see Daniel again; I wasn’t surprised he never
came to look for me at that place where I spent almost an entire year.
The last thing I heard about him was that he
had been deported two months ago. That left me confused; I felt a little sorry
and at the same time not. I always feared he would abandon me if things got
rough, and in the end, he did. On the other hand… the trip to the border and
the smuggler cost a lot of money. Daniel had asked for a lot of money from loan
sharks, supposedly to buy his own house. But as soon as he had it, we left the
country.
Those people are pretty evil and if they find
out he’s back in the country… just remembering the news about what the loan
shark did to those who didn’t pay makes me shiver. Anyway… I guess that would
be the end for who was supposed to be my father. He definitely never was. Now I
have no father either.
Well, before you get confused: that was
months ago, but what I’m going to tell now happened years ago. I told you that
first because I wanted to close that dark cycle of my life before moving on to
the good moments.
Back to the orphanage: one of those days when
I went for a walk to the park without permission, I ran into the friendly
neighbors again. When I told them how I was living at that time, they became
very worried. Unknowingly, that was the moment my real happy life began.
They adopted me quickly and took me to live
in their new house near the woods. It’s pretty big, comfortable and full of
feminine things. They gave me a bedroom that was already decorated for a girl;
I didn’t change a thing, of course. The clothes were the same; they already
knew what I liked and not having to hide it was paradise.
That first day I premiered a Cinderella
dress. They helped me put it on and told me I looked like the prettiest girl in
the world. Wow, I still cry when I remember it. The skirt of the dress, the
soft tights, the low-heeled shoes, the compliments from mama and mami while we
baked cookies and watched a marathon of princess movies. It was beautiful, very
beautiful.
Two years have passed since then. Now they
call me Odette, I like it a lot. I’ve forgotten what my previous name was
because there was never anyone there to pronounce it. I help my moms a lot in
their business. They have a warehouse full of samples that I take care of
organizing and cleaning; I call it the “Sanctuary of Dresses.” I’m also their
star model for their online catalog; mommy is a very good photographer.
They’ve been giving me pills every day, it’s vitamins.
I remember the orphanage doctor said I had malnutrition; I’d never noticed
because I thought I was just naturally scrawny. Mom and Mami took me to a
trusted doctor who ended up prescribing them; she said it was just part of a
long-term treatment because they would even have to perform a special surgery
to remove malformations. They explained that it was a kind of appendix. That
scared me; I didn’t know it was that serious, but now that excessive tiredness
made sense.
Luckily, it’s nothing that can’t be fixed
yet. Although I’m still thin and short, I don’t get as tired doing physical
activities anymore. My hair is longer and less brittle, and my voice is softer
and pleasant; I like to hum with it. I also noticed I started to get an itch in
my chest. At the last consultation, the doctor said all of that is a good sign
of restored health and that the treatment is effective, so the surgery would be
next week. I’m not scared; I’m happy.
At the moment I have online classes on the
computer and it’s much more comfortable. I haven’t returned to a normal school
since the orphanage; my moms say that would be counterproductive for the
moment, but that after I recover from surgery I could attend in-person school
if I wanted to. Of course I want to. I checked the calendar; I’d recover in
time for the first year of the famous High School. I can’t wait to make
friends, join groups, walk the halls amid laughter and many other things.
For now, I have plenty of time to help my
mothers and play with them in the enormous yard, take bike rides through the
woods or focus on drawing dresses. Some I have brought to life with Mom’s help
who knows about sewing and is teaching me everything she knows. She says I
could be a very good seamstress if I specialize. Of course, that’s what I’ll
do.
Now I have a real home, with two mothers who
truly love me and care for me. I couldn’t be more grateful for what I have now
and I will do everything possible to help my moms keep all that we have
achieved. It will be our home sweet home forever.
THE END
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If you find any misspellings or a dead link, please let me know ------------
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Link English Caption in Deviant Art:
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Link Spanish Story in Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/story/401541317-hogar-dulce-hogar
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Link English Story in Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/1576352424-home-sweet-home
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Link English Caption in Blogger:
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Link Spanish Caption in Blogger: https://irenenaridzastorycaptions.blogspot.com/2025/11/hogar-dulce-hogar-historia-tg.html
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THANK YOU SO MUCH for WATCHING ------------------------------
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