Buried Scars, Blooming Strength

Serafina Silveira, Beyond the System Writing Contest

It was a dark midnight, long past a little girl's bedtime, when blue and red lights flashed outside, and officers came to take her father away. She hated seeing him like this—a monster in her eyes. She ran and hid beneath her covers, wishing she didn’t have to, but the fear was overwhelming. She kept telling herself that she would never become like him, but the truth was hard to ignore. His eyes had a way of piercing right through her, and she couldn’t help but fear that parts of him were buried deep within her. One day, she thought, she might erupt just like he did. She knew she couldn’t stop her DNA.

Her father was a gang leader and alcoholic. His rage ruled their home, and he unleashed it on her mother—physically, emotionally, and mentally. She often saw him stumbling in, bloodshot, with a bottle in hand. These moments contributed to her PTSD, though she didn’t understand it then.

Anxiety and depression were always there, passed down like an unwanted legacy. Her mother, too, battled deep depression and eventually couldn't care for her children. With her father in jail and her mother lost to parties, everything fell apart. One night, her aunt stepped in, and the children were separated. That moment felt like the unraveling of everything she’d ever known.

Initially placed with an aunt, social workers soon discovered drug addiction and worse—her aunt had tried to sell her daughters. Thankfully, she was moved to her biological aunt and uncle, who gave her the care and stability she desperately needed. Though quiet and withdrawn at first, she grew attached to them. The household had its own hardships—her aunt and uncle had survived the foster system—but it became her safe space.

Eventually, they took in more foster kids, each with their own struggles. Among them was a boy just a year older than her. He became her best friend—teaching her to ride a bike, folding paper boats, and playing at school. But after a year, he returned home. She was heartbroken but held onto the paper boats and memories.

She was a quiet child, once hiding so well during hide-and-seek that her family searched for hours. At five, a boy called her “Serafina” during an after-school game. She loved it and, when adopted, changed her name to Serafina Rose.

Serafina was energetic and full of life, later diagnosed with ADHD. Treatments were tricky—Mountain Dew made her hyper, coffee was disgusting, and Concerta gave her heart issues, leading to a heart murmur.

Sports became her passion, helping her build confidence and friendships. But middle school was a nightmare. Bullied, harassed, and discriminated against at her Catholic school, she had only one real friend. Most days felt suffocating. Music helped her focus, especially when high school allowed it.

Learning disabilities made things harder, but she refused to give up. Hard work, studying, and asking for help became her tools. Still, darker memories followed—bullying, harassment, being shoved into coat hooks with a broom. The school’s inaction made her feel unsafe.

Poetry and quotes brought her comfort, helping her express what she couldn’t say out loud. Despite having friends, she often felt isolated, her grades slipping as her mental health declined.

During the pandemic, her family moved to San Jose. The transition overwhelmed her. One night, hopelessness consumed her. A memory saved her. A best friend’s call comforted her. Though she cut herself, her parents found out, forcing her to stop.

COVID worsened everything. She spiraled, engaged with toxic people, and broke down often. Her parents blamed her phone, making her feel more alone. School became her anchor. She did well and loved sports.

Sophomore year brought joy and heartbreak. Her grandmother, once celebrated for her 90th birthday, passed away just hours before Serafina’s own. That same year, a boy comforted her, but later isolated and manipulated her. When he moved away, things crumbled. A new friend, Kevin, turned into a relationship—until he pulled away and broke her heart. She found strength in therapy.

Her controlling ex returned. Vulnerable and heartbroken, she gave him another chance, hoping he had changed. He hadn’t. He became crueler. For weeks, he controlled her emotionally. She tried to help him, but he broke her spirit. They crossed painful boundaries. She wanted someone—anyone—to notice she wasn’t okay. But no one did.

That same year, Serafina worked a school placement at Google, stepping out of her comfort zone. It brought joy and growth. Yet her past still cast shadows.

Now in college, things feel harder than she expected. Friendships are uncertain, her mother questions her major, and her brother tries to control her. She battles anxiety and doubts whether she’s truly on the right path.

Still, Serafina is working two campus jobs and joined the rowing team—her hardest sport yet. She’s seeing a psychiatrist, seeking healing.

Despite everything, she’s proud of how far she’s come. This is just the beginning of her story—a story of resilience, growth, and the fight to live the life she’s always dreamed of.

 

Read more stories from the Beyond the System Writing Contest here.