The Story of Rodrigo

April 10, 2012
I grew up never knowing about schooling and education, all I always grew up with was war. I never learned how to love, treat, and respect someone. The revolution began in 1952 when former army sergeant Fulgencio Batista seized power during a hot contested election. Batista had been a president from 1940-1944 and ran for president again in the year 1952. When it became obvious that he was gonna lose, he seized power before the elections which had been canceled. Many people in Cuba were disgusted by his power grab.

One such person was rising, a political star; Fidel Castro who would’ve most likely won a seat in congress if the 1952 elections would have taken place. Castro immediately began plotting Batistas downfall. That’s the story of how the Cuban revolution started. I grew up with a pretty bad childhood my mother was never home, and when she was it was hell. She made me the man of the house making sure that I could watch my 3 younger siblings. I had my own stuff to do and focus on but I also needed to help out with cooking, and cleaning. My father died when I was only 4 years old. I don’t remember very much about him, all I do remember is that I want to be just like him, he knew how to treat a woman and everything.

The man I work for is the man that had killed my father. After he had died my mother became severely depressed, she didn’t know what to do with herself, or how to carry herself anymore. That’s when i became the man of the house. Now that I’m 19 I’ve decided that I’m gonna leave and live my life how I want to live it. Everyday I have to wash these mans cars. He owns at least 5 cars and may be getting more cars soon. He gives me about 2 cents a day. He treats me like I’m his slave like he owns me. And he doesn’t and tomorrow when I go to work I’m gonna do something that I may regret doing and that I shouldn’t have done but know what? I don’t care anymore. I wake up I smell the smoky dull air as I’m walking to the bus stop I’m thinking about what if I get caught? What if I get killed? What if What if he has alarms? Looks like we’ll have to find out and see. As a approach this man’s house I walk up to his front door and I knock on it. He answers. “Hello are you here to work for me today” he says with enthusiasm “Don’t I work for you every day?” I responded sarcastically. “ Well I suppose, here you go” he gives me the car keys “Enjoy i’ll be back in a couple hours.”

As I watch him leave this feeling erupted through my body. I looked around no one one looking so I smashed in all his windows in 4 cars tore his leather seats scraped and chipped the paint on his cars spit on em’ and completely wrecked them until they were completely dead, no longer useful, and totaled. I also took out the car parts in the engine to use on later on. You’ll see why. Just wait. Suddenly I ran into his garage and found things that were interesting to me like some tools, and frozen food, tons of water which is refreshing as can be. Then I ran into the bathroom grabbed his scissors and started cutting my long shaggy greasy hair, I found a razor starting shaving my face. I then started bolting to his bedroom where I found a duffel bag. I took that and stuffed all the man’s clothes in there. Even his underwear. I needed them. As I was going through his stuff I found a jackpot of all this money! There was at the minimum 1,000 dollars. I took it all.

After that I went to his kitchen grabbed all the food he had and anything else I had wanted. I destroyed his house he didn’t deserve to have those nice things in there he didn’t deserve anything. He didn’t even deserve to live on this earth as a human being anymore. He was satan's child. He had at least murdered 4 people cause they didn’t do the job right and I don’t wanna be the 5th one that it’s gonna happen to. I packed all the stuff that I took from the man’s house and put it in the last car that had been in perfect shape. I looked at the house, it looked nice on the outside but on the inside it looked like a tornado had hit it. The sweet smell of victory and revenge. You mess with the bull you get the horns. That’s what my mother always used to tell me. I went to her house; i started crying. I’d never been so happy to see her.





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