Safe Superstition. Karla

The alarm clock rang, and Karla turned it off almost immediately. She got up, left the room, and the first thing she did was go to the house altar. Virgin of Guadalupe was there, resting, alongside some small photos of Saint Jude. She lit the candle and prayed, giving thanks. She asked for a blessing for her family. It took her exactly 30 minutes to change into her uniform, do her hair, and brush her teeth.

Her parents were already there setting the breakfast table. They didn’t speak. Her father sat down to read the daily newspaper; the radio played in the background with the announcer’s voice listing the songs that had been played. Her mother saw her daughter.

“Good morning, Karla,” her mother said as she served her a plate of scrambled eggs. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, Mom,” Karla replied while putting a bit of ketchup on her eggs.

The mother stopped her daughter and called for the father's attention. It was time to pray, bless the food, and ask for the day to be productive. During breakfast the family chat happily, talking about susnday plans, about Karla's school and what will can do when vacations come. 

It was nearly 7:00 when father and daughter left the house. Her mother gave her a blessing, and 10 minutes later, Karla arrived at school. As always  her father drives her to school, commenting that he would be home early that day and could help her with her homework.

Lucía and Naomy were already waiting for her at the entrance, laughing and commenting on something that didn't interest her.

“Come on, Lucía, there’s nothing wrong with listening to a little rock,” commented Naomy, who insisted they should go listen to the latest Pxndx album that afternoon.

“If you had that kind of motivation for your history classes, everything would be different,” Lucía responded.

Karla overheard the conversation and tried to de-escalate things. She didn’t like seeing her friends fighting, especially so early in the morning.

“Naomy, not all of us share your musical tastes,” Karla commented, trying to smile.

“At least I don’t listen to Luismi or Juanga, that’s for sure,” Naomy said, mocking her friend.

It wasn't her fault that her mother liked those two old men who pretend to sing. It was all she heard all day long. She didn’t dislike it, but from listening to the CDs so much, it had become boring and tedious.

Emily arrived shortly after, and following the greetings and a chat about how the teacher preferred to reprimand Naomy for trying to dress like Anahí, they went their separate ways. They were assigned to classroom 1-D.

She always liked the first class, Spanish, and she relaxed when the teacher began the lesson. She didn’t have the best grades, and didn’t have many friends because of her faith. But she didn’t care. She had three loyal friends who were always there for her and didn’t criticize her for believing in the Virgin and Saint Jude.

However, she never liked that Emily was a fan of those paranormal tales. She was afraid of ghosts and couldn’t stand watching the movies her friend watched. They gave her nightmares, and her mother always remarked that she shouldn't have that girl as a friend.

Recess was always a torture for her. Especially now that she had those annoying pains and cramps. She was the first to leave for the restroom. She gave thanks that she hadn't had an accident.

Upon leaving to wash her hands, she ran into Minerva, the most popular girl in the third grade. Thanks to her body, which was a bit more developed than those in her same grade. It's always mentioned throughout the school that she uses this advantage even for even to improve their grades. It's curious that she is still only 15 years old.

She was finishing doing her hair, arranging it so her curls wouldn't come undone. Karla watched her carefully. Minerva finally finish. She put on her hair a big red ribbon at the right side of her hair, above her ear.

“What are you looking at?” Minerva said with disgust. She made a face of distaste upon seeing Karla; her plain hairstyle and her clearly old and dirty bow made her look even poorer than she actually was.

“Vanity is a sin, Minerva,” Karla commented, which made her classmate get even angrier.

“I’m Dita, Di-ta,” Minerva corrected. “I am the great goddess of beauty, Aphrodite. To you, just Dita. I have a date today with my college boyfriend.”

(Note from the author. In spanish, the name of the godess is Afrodita)

So it was true. Minerva was dating a college student. Do she really went to the house of that boyfriend for dinner? "She is such an adult" thought Karla forgetting that going to the house of a boyfriend is also a sin.

Minerva left the bathroom; Karla, frustrated by being scolded by her, remained silent. She only wanted to help; she just wanted people to speak to her normally.

“Exams are coming soon,” Lucía commented while Emily and Naomy just looked at her with a bit of hatred. “We should get together to study.”

Without saying a word, Karla sat down and began to pray in silence. She had already learned: silence is better than noise. When she finished, she saw what was for lunch that day: a granola bar, an egg sandwich, and pear juice.

Naomy took the bar and started eating it. Without saying much, Karla simply removed the paper from the sandwich to eat.

“Next time, take her sandwich,” Emily said mockingly. “We know she hates it.”

“Karla needs to eat well,” interrupted Lucía, who also began looking for her own lunch. “And you, Naomy, should stop taking other people's food.”

Emily said nothing, just continued eating the stolen bar. The friends finally relaxed.
“How about we go for ice cream after school?” Naomy asked.

Karla was the first to agree. It had been a long time since they went for ice cream. Maybe the cold of the ice cream would make things hurt less. Lucía relaxed and also agreed to go. Emily, just to avoid being left out of the plan, accepted.

At the end of classes, they waited for Emily for a while outside the school. She never showed up, so a dynamic Lucía forced the rest of the group to go for that ice cream.

Upon returning home, Mrs. Diana, a woman with black hair who always wore a ponytail, welcomed her daughter. She was cooking, and the smell of chicken filled the house.

“I’m home, Mom,” Karla said while looking for something to drink.

“How was school today?” Diana asked her daughter without taking her eyes off the fryer.

“Thanks to God and the Virgin, I didn’t have any accidents,” Karla replied with a certain joy on her face.

Her mother turned to look at her and smiled. For a while, they chatted. When the food was ready, Diana was even in high spirits, sharing her plans with her daughter, something Karla appreciated.

They prayed and blessed the food. They gave thanks for the father's job and prayed that he might get a raise.

“Do you think we can go on vacation for Holy Week?” Karla asked.

She believed that with that raise, they could finally go to the beach and see the sea. Diana just stared at her plate. But she smiled.

“Maybe not for Holy Week, but definitely for summer,” her mother commented with some excitement. “But promise me you’ll get your grades up.”

Karla promised; motivated by the promise of going to Acapulco, she went to her room after eating to do her pending homework. It was hard for her to concentrate on history. It was so boring that she fell asleep several times.

Was it really so important to know the location in the map of the Mayans or what year the Zapotecs lived? Her mother always commented that the important thing for those peoples was when the Spaniards brought the word of God, so they could know the true God. Everything else was useless data.

Karla sighed and closed the history book. She tried to do her math homework, but those silly equations danced and moved constantly, and she couldn't solve them.
To distract herself, she searched her backpack for something else. Naomy had lent her the latest fashion magazine. There they were again, those "rebels" with their white blouses and short skirts. 

Dulce María was so pretty in the photos! She wished for a moment she could dress like her. Karla looked at herself in the mirror while she ruffled her hair. Her straight brown hair was boring compared to the intense red of the "rebel." Even Minerva’s dyed hair was prettier than hers. Maybe when she turned 18, she could finally dye her hair.