More than a truck

By: Marlene Martinez

When I was 5 years old, my dad brought home his second truck, a 2004 CADI, which was the first truck I grew up with, and my dad later added two red stripes to it.

We created so much memories with the truck, such as growing up with the truck, when my dad would drop us off school , having my childhoods friends on it, my dad letting my brother and I drive it around the neighborhood, The late night drives after the park, and all the laughs and small talks about what we were going to eat at home after the park.

On September 4th, 2025, an unknown person left a note on my dad's truck saying, “Move this trash or throw it away.” I saw the note and sent a picture to my dad; my whole family didn’t think anything about it. Days later passed, and we all forgot about the note.

On November 5, 2025, around 9:41 pm, my dad yelled from the bathroom yelling, “My truck is burning” seconds later one of my neighbors knocked on our door saying “our truck is burning” we all went outside, I took a good look at the truck and I started to bawl my eyes out seeing how my childhood truck was burning.

 I started shaking the moment I called the fire department. I didn’t know what to do at the moment, but just stared at the truck that one day was everything to us and then nothing but ashes. The firefighters came, but by that time the truck was halfway way ashes. It took 20 minutes for them to stop the fire.

This really hit me hard because it’s hard to lose something that meant more than a truck.

This was not just a truck; it was something more than that. My dad would tell me the truck was going to be mine once I turned 18, also that he had plans to fix the inside of the truck. I was excited for the moment to come, just for it to be ashes 2 months before my 18th birthday. 

This situation affected my family and caused them to be scared that the unknown person would try to do more than that.