(based on The House on Mango Street, by Sandra Cisneros)
By Nahum Workalemahu IV
There are more stars in the galaxy than there are people in the world. I saw that on TV.
I look up at the stars shining like the teeth of those women you see in magazines, smiling for the whole world to see. I wanted to be like them. They hold expensive purses. They wear makeup that shines like the headlights, lighting the way. They strut across a path where boys and girls can admire them.
Rachel and Lucy agree. They want to be rich and live in a big house one day. “If I grow rich one day, I’ll buy the biggest house and a pool too,” says Lucy. “If I was rich, I’d boss everyone around and nobody would tell me to stop riding the bike,” says Rachel. They dream, and dream and dream.
But I don’t want to imagine, I want to be seen. I want to be admired like those girls, who have Marin’s courage but achieve their own goals. Who have Lois’s beauty but walk past the dark alleyways. Who take their life into their own hands.
I look up at the house on Mango Street one more time, the one I could never accept as my own. I start walking under the burnt sky. The street was quiet, like I was the only one awake in a sleeping neighborhood. The trees bent and swayed under the late-afternoon sky in a sad dance, obeying the wind. I feel bad for those trees that never had the chance to see past Mango Street. The trees that never had the courage to let go of their roots and explore the world. The ones that could never be free. The trees rustle in the wind, begging me to come back one day and tell them what the world is like.
When I reach the end of the street I look back for one final time. A star stared down at me, smiling just like my mother does. The woman who taught me everything she knew, hugged me when I came home crying, gave me everything she had to offer. The words from the cat-eyed woman flash in my brain, and I promise to remember them. But I won’t wait for the stars like Marin, those stars that vanish in the blink of an eye.
When I reach my destination, I do what my mother never could. I buy a ticket and find a seat.
