A Father to My Baby

Joaquín Oviedo's pov

nine years old

"They won't come. Do you know what that means? We're going to have to sell you to another family. We can't keep you in America, but there are plenty of rich couples in other countries who would pay for a blonde Boys pay big bucks. If your parents don't want to pay to bring you home, we'll find someone who will."

I try to pretend I'm not listening. Be strong and brave like my brother Guillermo because I don't want these people to see how scared I am.

It's been six days since they brought me here. I'm counting. Sometimes my mind can get really cluttered, so I decided to pile up some pebbles I found on my bedroom floor so I wouldn't forget.

Why isn't Dad here yet? They said they wanted money and my family had a lot of money.

Are these people telling the truth? Do my parents know they took me but still don't want to pay the money they demand to get me back? I wish Guillermo was an adult. My brother would never leave me here. I believe in him. I also believed in Mom and Dad, but now I don't know.

"Are you listening to me, kid? I know you understand what I'm saying, and you're scared. You should."

Even if I don't look at him, I know he's smiling. You do it all the time. You put on an evil grin like you're having fun scaring me.

"I was thinking it was wrong for us to take you away. Your family doesn't care if you come back or not. I think, after we sell, bring the little girl. She may be worth a lot of money."

Take my Martina? get my Martina? my little sister?

I tried not to cry but felt pain behind my eyes. I clasped my hands together to keep them still because I wanted to get to where the guy was and kick his shins.

"It's okay. I can see you don't want to talk. I'm leaving, but think about what I said. You might wake up tomorrow in another country."

As soon as he was gone, I grabbed a wooden box I found under the bed. I can't reach that small, tall window without it. I put it near a window. From day one, I climbed up and looked out. Surrounded by old houses.

The window is a very narrow passage, but I think I can get through it. I was terrified of getting scratched by shards of glass because it was shattered, but that was before and I thought my dad would come and save me.

Now, I think I have to escape by myself, so I have an idea.

I go back to bed and get the blanket. I wrap it around my hand, like I've seen in action movies, and slam on shards of glass, shattering the missing pieces.

There. That's it, just the glass tip, even if I cut myself, it wouldn't be that much. I need to go home. Even if my parents don't care about me like this man said, I can't let them take my sister away.

I ran so fast that I was out of breath.

My lungs were on fire, but I didn't stop until I found a store. There is a sign on the door that says "OPEN".

I still pushed the door open, for fear that they would chase me, and I was relieved to see a white-haired woman inside.

"Good evening, my love. Aren't you a little late walking around by yourself?" she asked.

"I don't walk," I said, taking a deep breath. I ran away.