This is my story, life as a victim.
I was born February 14, 2002, Valentine’s day and I was premature. I was curious about the outside world and had no idea what it had in store for me.
Where do I start to begin my story? In my brief five months here on earth, it was filled with so much pain. I have been told by angels that childhood is suppose to be full of joy. I did not know any of this.
Not once did I have a friendly face to reach out to or a hand to hold onto. Instead, no one answered my cries. Not crying from being hungry or tired but crying from my ribs being broken. I was beaten and bitten by the only family I knew.
One night my parents were drinking beer again with my uncle. My mother passes out and leaves me with my dad and his brother. They continue to drink while playing games by throwing me into the air, and not always catching me. Where is my mother? Where is anyone to help me? What more do I have to endure? Then my uncle rapes me, I am only five months old. My injuries are severe and my anus is torn. I lay here crying while my dad and his brother fall asleep.
The following day, they awake and realize that I am not well. They rush me to the hospital but it is too late for me. I have a broken skull and several broken bones. I also have bite marks and internal injures from being raped by my uncle.
My injuries are documented by my autopsy photos. This is the only picture available of me because during my brief life my family never took a single picture of me.
I am not sad now and I am smiling down from above, smiling at mommy, the only mom I have come to know. Susana Martinez, District Attorney that worked so hard to pass my bill, Brianna’s Bill.
What happened to me should happen to no child.
Remember me always,