San Gabriel: A Short Story

Gunshots followed by a chorus of screams penetrated my eardrums. Bullets grazed the front door stopping at the back wall of my home. The place I long and miss the most is also the most troubled. The home my family left behind in Colombia is a pivotal component of my life today. Undoubtedly, the house passed from generations is most important to me. Its vibrant essence, lively character, and quirky traits make it a place I strive to go back to. In the troubled neighborhood of San Gabriel, blended between a myriad of rundown shacks and comunas, rests my cherished home. Throughout the day, there is an overwhelming overflow of people. Unfamiliar faces and booming voices, hand in hand, accompanies the permanent open door. “A smile, tea, or polite conversation can never be neglected to a passing brother or sister,” recited my grandma. This rule would lead to many fugitives running unannounced inside seeking refuge. In other cases, a luminous red sign welcoming trouble and melancholy would become apparent to the outside world. It was not strange for a stray bullet to become an unwelcomed guest in the household. …show more content…
A familiar scene can always be expected. The same red leather couches my mother grew up with, now riddled with tears and stains, can be found in the living room. Coupled with a portrait of a white blue-eyed Jesus hanging from the wall, inhabiting dust and webs dating back decades. The same outdated television, blurry and stuck to the same volume unmoved by my grandpa. Overly decorated curtains bring life to every room without a door. Curtains with chickens, blue and yellow plaid, green mossy flowers, and a pomegranate pattern brighten the