𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐒 - 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐎𝐍 𝐗 𝐎𝐂

𝐢. ✭ 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆

AUGUST, 1959; THALIA

"𝘍𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘪𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯'𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘴, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘢 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘯 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮, 𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘦'𝘭𝘭 𝘳𝘶𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘦. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘵𝘺𝘱𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘰𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘴. 𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳, 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥-𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴, 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘨𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘵. 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘺𝘱𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨."

- 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐲𝐧 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐫𝐨𝐞

Background Music
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-Strange Feeling by Billy Stewart-
⇆ㅤ ||◁ㅤ❚❚ㅤ▷||ㅤ ↻

"Mija, I love you." The one word my father spoke in Spanish made my Grandfather tighten his wrinkled face. I slid my gaze away from the old man's sharpened stare and embraced my father, holding him close.

His face is a toil of uncertainty, I can tell he is restraining himself to allow me to go, to leave his arms and into a world of the unknown. He keeps adjusting his glasses, pushing them up his curved nose.

Papa can't seem to hold his gaze on me. He is the one who pushed for me to leave Stardust Springs, saying that Welton would give me more of an education than he and Mama could provide.

"Seventeen is old enough, Thalia. It is time. We cannot keep you home forever. You need to interact with people your age."

I was homeschooled my entire life. From the time I was old enough to pick up a pencil, Mama and Papa taught me everything they knew. I read every book they would bring home, write fantastical stories, and my recess was waiting for the neighborhood kids to come home so I could go and play with them.

It wasn't a decision my parents made to limit me, they actually believed I would learn more if I was taught at home. Besides, we lived in a primarily working-class immigrant neighborhood.

Latino, Asian, African Americans, and others lived side by side in a diverse culdesac on the edge of town. Our cultures were important but that didn't stop us from mixing on Quixote Drive. Several multi-racial children would run around our little haven, chasing each other through sprinklers, playing games in different tongues, and eating a blend of ethnic dishes.

Back at home, my mashed-together heritage and my parent's love were considered normal. My white mother and Mexican father were left alone in Quixote. Although their union was considered illegal on a wider scale...because, oh, heavens, think of society, purity, and a whole bunch of traditional and rather stupid rhetoric...

The kids of Quixote were all shoved together and expected to attend a separate school, one where we would be hidden from white eyes. Because of course, us children of the ostracized would certainly infect all of the precious little children that went to the quaint colorless school and ate their sandwiches with crusts cut off with our otherness.