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achronicsurvivorsa
Feb 29 min read

Sometimes a Good Heart doesn’t see the Bad

Dear Mom,


I wish I could have gone to college. I had every intention of doing so after high school, but that was thoroughly washed away when it came time to figure out if I was ready for the curriculum. I had done what I could to further my studies but by first glance of Puerto Rico’s version of the SATs, I knew I wouldn’t make it. Despite the effort I had put forward, it just wasn’t enough and if I were being honest, I couldn’t afford to go to college. Once I was of age, I knew I would be forced to figure out how to fend for myself and that meant putting any effort in going to school might have worked against me.

It might have disappointed you, but I dodged a bullet.

When I arrived in New York, after having graduated just a few months prior, everything was different. It was 2009. Roughly four years since I had last been in the city, and maybe it was because I lived on a clean island but the air tasted dirty. Even so, this was my home and it felt good to be home. I just couldn’t enjoy it for too long.

My original purpose for returning to New York was to handle the rest of your estate. Part of me had wanted to go back. My aunt and uncle were more than willing to keep me. I can’t really tell you why I ended up forgoing that idea. What I can say is that the decision came with some ease. I didn’t need a car to travel around the city and Belle willingly took me in, giving me a home. A welcomed support as I wouldn’t have known what to do otherwise. I had to come finish the paperwork, and process things with your lawyer so that I can finally have access to the bank account you had for me. Then I had to arrange the sale of our home since there wasn’t enough in the account to save it. If I was only given the chance I would still be living in Williamsburg.

Now I can’t even afford a cup of coffee in that neighborhood.


I thought things had finally settled when I returned. It was clear that I got complacent with the peace given to me in Puerto Rico. It was assumed that your brother would have “extorted me” for what you had left me in the will – so much so that he made it a point in not making an effort to access your estate on my behalf. Absal had little faith in our remaining family. Even he was thrown a curve ball when it would be Belle who ultimately ripped what was left of you. My heart still hurts at the thought. I didn’t think she would ever do that to us.. To me. Especially not after all those stories she shared about you, and Ama.

Our home was worth a measly $100k because of the damage Rose had caused. I refused to see what was left of my childhood as the memory of a dumpster filled with our things is traumatizing enough. I was told that they ripped the floors up for whatever reason. Your recent repairs were undone, and there was a chicken just making a little home for itself. Karma seriously has not hit the people responsible for what happened to me. Who the f**k steals from a kid who just beat cancer?

When I was chosen for the Make-A-Wish foundation, I had brought Absal and Belle’s daughter as companions for an all paid trip to the electronic store where I was able to get the latest laptop and a few video games. Not as extravagant as an all paid vacation to Disney World, but I had enjoyed that when I was 10 years old – so choosing a laptop at a time when those things cost upwards to $3k was an easy decision. That laptop was lost when Rose emptied out my home, along with the camera and a number of other things I had been gifted from the trip. I don’t even have the photographs we took in the limousine and that had been my first time in one of those things!

After gaining access to the bank account, the first thing I did was treat myself to a new laptop and a gaming system. Perhaps it was a childish first buy, but it was my first buy and I had treated Belle’s family to a few things as well, just as a thank you for having taken me in. In hindsight, maybe I was too giving, too kind and trusting – but I genuinely thought these people were family. Or at least, I thought Belle was family. Once I was done with the sale of our home, I allowed Belle to talk me into giving her $15k as a downpayment for a house in Florida. I was excited to be able to offer that kind of assistance. Despite the flaws in their family dynamic, I did truly see the love they had for each other and I thought it would benefit the kids overall. They always spoke fondly of their desire to move.

In exchange, I would hold onto the apartment they leave behind in New York. It seemed fair, and it meant I didn’t have to go through the stress of searching for an apartment. Around that time, me and Nikki went on an adventure to Queens and I met my now husband. To say that I was stricken by my attraction to him is probably an understatement. I didn’t wait long to ask him out, and while there were a few hiccups because of a situation happening without my knowledge, our first date lined up around the time I gained access to my inheritance. At least my gifts to my husband aged well.


It was summer time, so Belle took the kids and moved to Florida, giving me an opportunity to help my now husband and his family, as they were homeless due to some troubling circumstances of their own. If you think our history was bad, mom, you would probably be stricken with heart sickness when you hear the sort of stuff my husband had to deal with. I would argue that his past is far more traumatic than my own, but maybe I’m biased.

You could say I took an extended vacation from responsibility around this time in my life. I didn’t see getting a job as a priority just yet with the funds I was just given, and so I was lounging at home more often than not. My sister in law just had her baby, and I was trying to get to know her while they lived with me. I had a very chaotic friend group that I kind of wished didn’t follow my husband around like a lost puppy. The only person who didn’t annoy me with their presence was Nikki, however it could be because I’m bitter. Most of those friends disappeared when shit hit the fan. Money can’t buy kindness, or loyalty for that matter. Mine certainly didn’t.

Everything crashed around me in the blink of an eye. Belle stopped contacting me soon after her move, and while I didn’t think much of it because I saw them updating their loved ones on Facebook, I soon grew concerned when a number of troubling transactions showed up on my account.

Before I even knew what happened, my account had been wiped. Everything was gone. I was down to zero again.

I know I had spent a reckless amount of money at the start, but there was no way I could have possibly spent my $100k in just a few months. I was frantic as I called my bank, and tried to get an answer as to how it could have been withdrawn so easily. I knew that I had two copies of my debit card, but I had assumed both of them were with me. Unfortunately, that hadn’t been the case and Belle had managed to convince her oldest daughter, one of my closest friends, to take it from my wallet before they left. Or so, that’s how I assumed it happened. I’ve spent so much time trying not to think about this massive betrayal to the point where my memory is fuzzy. The only thing I can say for absolute certainty was that my account had nothing. I had nothing. 

And then the police came. My heart aches from the memory. It was the most traumatic moment in my life, and it had to happen at night when I was at my most vulnerable, asleep.

I’ll admit that bringing someone else into another person’s home might have been a mistake on my part. I thought that explaining the situation had led to an understanding with Belle, but by now, I know I was being incredibly gullible. There was a lot I did not know, and having a lease to an apartment is one of them. While we might have had verbal agreements, none of that matters when you’re face to face with the cops. We were reported as trespassers. Belle came sweeping in as if she hadn’t been ignoring me for months, and accused me of squatting.

Suddenly, there I am. On the street, with not a penny to my name and forced to remove all of my belongings. Forced to lose my pets.

You know, I never asked if my sister in law ever forgave me for that scare. She, out of all of us there, had the most to lose since she had a child. It’s obvious that she does, but much like everything else, I just didn’t talk about what happened. I had to find answers, I couldn’t mourn the loss of friendship and the betrayal it dealt me.

I know, I see the pattern too.

It didn’t take long for me to get a job once I managed to settle in a place. A friend was kind enough to keep me for a few weeks, but that soon dissolved once our differences became too much to bear. Manda is just one of the many friends that quickly disappeared in my rear view mirror as I continued to focus on my personal struggles. I couldn’t be bothered with a bad friend being a bad friend while I was in the middle of becoming homeless. I should maybe mention how she was trying to make me jealous by being blatantly interested in my ex, and soon moved on to my now husband, but it wasn’t of concern to me. My husband proved his loyalty, and my ex (Jeff) is an ex for a reason.


Minimum wage was incredibly minimum when you’re starting from absolute zero. It was hard to maintain focus on a job when you’re struggling to keep a roof over your own head. What didn’t help was juggling a personal life that was chaotic at the time if only because of how stressful the situation had become. It would be remiss of me not to highlight some of the troubles I had at the start of my relationship with my husband. This was the first real relationship for the both of us, and so the bumpy roads ahead were extra bumpy when you add the stress that we were under. He didn’t have very helpful friends either, as they tended to get in the middle of our squabble and interject opinions that don’t work for us since we were homeless. I already knew what I had to do, I just had to wait for him to catch up with me and I guess that caused some tension.

I suppose what they say is true – women do mature faster than men.

I’ve lost my ability to trust over the years and I know it started with Belle. I have since grown weary of getting closer to people, which is why I’m incredibly blessed to have a solid foundation today because I know what a broken foundation looks like, and I don’t think I’ll survive if that had followed me.

Belle’s daughter approached me a few years later. It comforted me when she apologized on behalf of her mother because for the longest time, I thought it had been my fault for the way things had crumbled between us. I thought that maybe I had done something wrong. I’m sure you wouldn’t be surprised to learn that I tend to gaslight myself but in my defense – I got no closure. I tried to get my money back, but there was nothing that could be done since a pin was used to access the money. I made an effort to express to them that I hadn’t even been in the same state that the money was accessed in, but it didn’t matter. Chase didn’t want to be on the hook for the more than $75k withdrawal and I had too much of a heart to process charges against the person responsible. Or gullible. Either way, I appreciated the confirmation that no – what happened was no fault of mine.

I was just the unlucky fool to have been hit by betrayal twice in a single lifetime. Well, at least I can say that it hasn’t happened a third time. I’d rather be caught dead and in a way, that has made it easier to cut people off.

Now if only someone could randomly donate $75k to me. At least to grace me with a bit of justice…

I wish.


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