Children are innocent and love justice, while most adults are wicked and prefer mercy.
-Gilbert K. Chesterton

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Guess it's gonna be hard to tell my story without makin' everyone depressed, so I'm sorry about that. It ain't real nice in the end. I grew up livin' with both my parents and two younger brothers. It was kinda cool bein' the oldest and the only girl, too. Though I got a lotta the stuff most older kids do, like "You're the oldest, ya know better," or talkin' about me settin' a good example. But that was okay, wasn't like my parents were too strict. They were real cool, even. We were a close family. And had a good life up till a couple years ago.

After the Strikers and them started takin' over New Orleans, it got tough for us that wasn't white. Our family comes from Puerto Rico so things turned out not so easy. Lotsa rules and laws went up about us and we had to be careful what we did. It was so hard, and I couldn't understand much about it. My daddy told us that sometimes people just think so little of theirselves that they gotta do what they can to make other people look inferior. Guess I coulda lived with the shit that we hadda do and all. Wish that's all I hadda live with. But it got so bad.

Was a few months after all the stuff started bein' put in place when it happened. I was 13 and there was some people who took what the Strikers said to heart and decided to show some minorities just who they thought was best. I dunno why they picked us. I dunno how that happened, cause we didn't know 'em. But they went outside and were yelling, carryin' weapons. My daddy grabbed me.. I was the only kid up.. and hid me in the closet under the stairs. He tried to get to my brothers, but he couldn't do it before they got in. He tried to fight 'em, but there hadda be a dozen or more of 'em. They got all my family and... and I hadda watch through the crack in the door and not be able to do nothin' as they started torturin' 'em. I'd promised my daddy I'd stay quiet... I keep my promises. He begged 'em to let my mom and brothers live, but they just laughed. They was there for hours with hurtin' 'em all. Even my four year old brother. It was the most awfulest thing. I cried but stayed quiet. Sometimes I wish I'da let 'em know I was there. I feel so bad that it happened to them and not me. Just cause I was the oldest I got off. Just cause I had the luck to be up.

When the men left, I still stayed there for awhile, scared they'd come back. But I finally got out and there was... there was blood everywhere. It was so hard, walkin' there with all that. They'd skinned my daddy... skinned him alive. My poor daddy. My poor family. Don't feel right that I lived and they died. But I finally got outta the house and just ran. Kept runnin'. Until finally I ran into Miguel when he was out. He scared me at first, I was scared of anyone. But he was so nice and so helpful... and he took me somewhere safe. With the other Panteras. They all treated me so good. It's been almost like another family. Guess I should say I've tried to kill myself a few times since all that. Just sometimes I feel guilty that I got left behind, and so lonely for my family. Dunno if someday I'll try it again, probably. Maybe someday I'll make it. But I really wanna live to see the guys that killed my family get theirs. Maybe that don't sound right to some, but I think they deserve to get what they gave. It just ain't right that they did what they did and they get off easy. Don't understand, I guess, why people don't believe in that kinda thing. Guess I understand in some cases, like Amanda, but I don't think it makes us bad people to want to see things get fixed the right way. I still think it's the right way and always will. My family was worth more than anything at all and people who decided to make theirselves feel better took it away from me. I hate 'em and want 'em to suffer the same as my family did. Don't think that's wrong.