When I was 5 years of age, I watched my mother get beat down by my father. It happened on multiple occasions, and one time I remember him beating her unconscious. I guess the beating was so bad that when she woke up, and stood back on her feet, she stumbled again and fell to the floor once again losing consciousness.
Before she fell to the floor, she told my aunts who were there, “Get my son out of here.” as her voice trembled, her eyes shed tears, and finally she hit the floor. I got scared, and instead of my aunts running to take me out of the room, as my mom had demanded, they ran to her aid. My father wasn’t there to grab me either because he had left as soon as he beat her unconscious.
A year later, my father brought her and I across the border, crossing from Mexico to the United States.