Prologue


I was born in New York City. Greatest city in the world! I am actually a third generation New Yorker, which I have learned is rather rare. Most of the people I know are transplants. My parents both grew up on the Lower East Side of Manhattan, known as Alphabet City. I spent much of my childhood there. Mostly being baby-sited by either of my grandmothers.  I carry fond memories of South Street Seaport, China Town, and the parks by the East River.  They both still live there.

I can trace my lineage back quite a number of generations. My family is from Spain, Venezuela, Puerto Rico, and 2 different Native American Tribes. So I’m essentially a mutt. An Exotic looking mutt! I have olive skin that pales out in the winter and darkens in the summer. I have long black hair that just about covers my boobs. I have almond shaped eyes that are so dark they are almost black. I am almost 5’6” and I like to keep a nice toned athletic build. Mostly because I’m vain, and I like to wear fitted clothes. I can pass for almost any nationality, except black or Asian, obviously. I guess I wouldn’t pass for anything Scandinavian either.

I grew up in a Catholic home. Church EVERY Sunday. I went to a Catholic grade school, an all girls Catholic high school, and a Catholic University. By the time I hit graduate school, I had enough of the religion and picked a non religious school. Not that Religion is bad thing I just feel people tend to fuck it up. Too much hate and prejudice blamed on the bible. Despite my Catholic family, they still kept some of the old traditions that have been passed on. For example, my aunt reads Tarot cards. I also have family that can read chicken bones or shells. My aunt also mixes blessing potions and dispels the dreaded evil eye. Some of these traditions I still keep. I don’t want my family to become so American that our customs disappears. I have studied a number of religions out of curiosity, and almost converted to Judaism. Almost. I define myself as more of a spiritual person, even though I still say a prayer every night before I go to bed.

I never took any drugs. Mostly because my brain is so fucked up that I don’t want to get trapped inside my own head! My head is a scary place. I have the creepiest dreams. Linear dreams. Dreams with a story line. Half of them involve serial killers, and me walking through body parts. I’m serious. Who would want to be trapped with that? I also had a problem with sleep paralysis. It’s when your dream scares you to the point that you wake up. But you wake up so fast your body hasn’t had time to react. You lay there awake and paralyzed. You can see perfectly but you are also hallucinating the scary thing that woke you up. And it’s standing over your bed. It only lasts a few seconds, but it feels like forever. There is an old myth about this phenomenon called The Old Hag.

I have a Master’s degree in Psychology. For a year, I worked in research studying feeding behaviors in rats and mice. It’s tough working in the lab where everything is controlled; light, heat, sound. There were no windows. I felt so bad for the rats that I even ended up taking one home as a pet, Holly. I decided I needed more social contact so I resigned. In 2004, I took a position as a clinical case worker/rehabilitative counselor for a private non profit. I worked with persons with “severe and persistent mental health issues,” not to mention the forensic histories and the drug abusers. Working with the mentally ill can be so taxing. You close yourself off emotionally so not to take things home with you. Your sense of danger fades because you are always in possible danger. If someone decides not to take their meds, it can get bad. I’ve seen things get very bad.

Perhaps I was over stressed at work. Perhaps I was having a religious crisis. Perhaps I just needed an outlet. It doesn’t really matter how you spin it because now I am The Horrid Girl.