I was eight years old when a screen fighting between blue and red tainted my face. At eight years old, I was terrified. The Associated Press had announced that Donald Trump had won the 2016 Presidential Elections. That night, I cried as if my life depended on it. At eight years old, I struggled to fill out my multiplication table, but I knew my life and the lives of people who looked like me were in danger. 

The day after the 2016 Presidential Elections, I went to school wondering if I was safe. My fear was shared with my equally terrified friends. I knew then that I was not alone, but that we had become a larger target. At the end of the school day, saying goodbye never had so much depth. To some, saying goodbye was a simple farewell. To us, goodbye meant, “We may never meet again.” I hugged my friends as if I was going to lose them because it felt that way. Years later, some were lost along the way.

At that point, my future was uncertain. The backup plan my parents had always joked about was morphing into a reality too powerful for my eight-year-old brain to comprehend. Deportation was a reality so many have faced, and we had to be prepared in case it became our reality because, like many families, we weren’t exempt from it. 

I am now 16, but the fear still haunts me. Staying up all night with my phone glued to my hand, my screen was once again painted red. Seeing one state turn after another, I felt my aspirations waning. 

Today, I woke up, immediately searching “2024 presidential election results” on Google. Deep down inside, I knew Kamala Harris wasn’t going to win, but seeing, “the AP has called this race,” was a straight bullet to my chest. 

On the car ride to my bus stop, my mom told me, “No te preocupes, don’t worry. It’ll be okay.” It wasn’t okay, I knew she wasn’t okay, but she had no choice but to consult the kid who was one blink away from breaking down. I am unsure of what the future holds, but to say I am petrified is an understatement. I can’t pretend that everything’s going to be okay when my entire world as I know of it is crashing in front of me. It didn’t take age to understand the lives of millions are at risk.

Last night, I was once again eight years old. Today, I go through my day-to-day life with the same fears eight-year-old me held.