When I was 13 years old, on a saturday morning my mom told me that we were moving to Houston, Texas and said you are a savage. I said, “You are crazy, this is the worst idea I ever heard.” After that my mom said, “Mijo no es una buena idea pero relajarte.” I was sweating like a pig in the sun. I told my mom that it meant I was going to lose my friends. This will be hard for my mom because she is Mexican and there is a lot of stores that are racist. She said that we need to move to Texas because your uncle is very sick. He got his toe cut off and maybe they might cut his foot. But my brother David is sick too what about him? He will stay a little bit longer and then move over with us. Later that day, I was thinking about the idea of that ,and I said to myself and it was a good idea ,and it will be done for a good cause it will hurt me too. I was thinking about this because it is very sad. This will be very difficult for my mom than me. Later that day my mom and my brother told the family that David has cancer. I said “No no this is not true”, my mom was crying and then my dad and the rest of us were too. Then the next day I said what next.