Cristal Hernandez
Stories (1/0)
Fickle Fifteen
The day was scorching, just like the day before it. The air always feels hotter in the Dominican Republic for some reason. My mom bought my flight the day before, assuring me that my school work would be fine, that the trip would only be for a few days, and that I had to go say my final goodbyes to my great-grandma, who by the way was more alive than ever staring at me from across the table. I tried to find a way to address the elephant in the room; the fact that it's the middle of the school week, my grandma isn't dying, and yet here I am. I hear the phone ring and thank God for the break in the tension. It's for me. I race over to the phone hoping someone was going to let me in on the big secret soon; nobody has explained anything to me since I got off the plane.
By Cristal Hernandez6 years ago in Families