... I'm preparing my defense against the 4 enemies
with whom I live at home 18.
CLEMENCIA GARZÓN VS. ROSA
CATANO
CERTIFICATION OF CLEMENCIA GARZÓN
I am very grateful to the Bronx Civil Court for the opportunity to allow
me to report the misdeeds I have been victim by Ms. Rosa Catano and her family.
This case is not only a matter of eviction is a matter of aggression sexual,
persecution, constant intimidation, mental child abuse and corruption. My
testimony is based on terrible facts that I have personally witnessed and have
evidence to support them. (Pictures and video recordings). Also, in information
given to me by Mrs. Catano.
On October 17, 2019 the super of the building at 2665 Grand Concourse Bronx, New York 10468. through corrupt
actions brought me to Ms. Rosa Catano to rent one of her rooms. She had
remodeled the apartment 3 H so that
two cousins Clara, Ivan and I would pay her rent. She turned the living room
into two bedrooms one for her and the other for her 13-year-old son, the
hallway became the living room with furniture. The fire escape stairs were
blocked, and the apartment is very dark. The lease is in the name of Ms. Catano
and ex-husband Mr. Raúl Caba although he does not live in the apartment.
On November 16, 2019 I was
sexually assaulted by Ivan, the next day I informed Ms. Catano what her cousin
did to me. Ivan's sexual harassment continued, and on one of Mr. Caba's visits
to his son, I told him Ivan's sexual assault. On January 19, 2020 Ms. Catano was enraged with me for revealing her
cousin's actions and resorted to fraudulent and criminal actions to kick me out
of the house. She used her son infusing him with murderer thoughts that I'm
going to kill them both. Her son had already been used to kick his father out
of the house as an excuse for the mother getting rid of him.
According to Ms. Catano, the court handed her documents for two lawsuits
against me and she used them to intimidate me by engaging others. Clara
threatened to hit me.
Ivan has put terror on me with his pursuit and approaches with minimal
distance.
Sometimes his harassment seems to be a seduction to make another sex
attack. He stalks me as soon as he realizes I'm leaving my room. He goes to the
kitchen, to the bathroom or leaves his bedroom door open to chase me. He walks by
my room wearing a towel that only covers his intimate parts. I feed myself on
canned. I use the kitchen after 10:00 pm. to wash some dishes and those
minutes are used to harass me. Ivan has terrified me by approaching very close
to me to take a knife. He moved me out of the sink to wash a banana and an
orange. He wears shorts letting his butt see it.
August 7, 2020 Ivan
stalked me in the basement when I was washing clothes and a lady who witnessed
how he was looking for me, also she got scared. The evil effects of Ms.
Catano's mental manipulation towards her son began to take effects. On the same
day, at 10:35 PM he raised a lantern and pointed at me with the light in
a clear act of hatred and menace. Ms. Catano’s son needs urgent psychological
care because of his unhealthy life and cohabitation with a sex stalker. My story is documented in my blog www.bankofamericamykiller.com Attached
you will find more detailed information of the most relevant facts. (August 21, 2020)
****
ONE OF THE SADDEST DAYS OF MY
LIFE.... THE PHOTOS OF NEW YORK CITY TAKEN BY MY SON ON HIS WAY TO BRING ME A
LIST OF GROCERIES AND THE ONES I COULD TAKE AT OUR MEETING SHATTERED MY HEART.
New York, April 26, 2020
At this moment when the
world survives the Covid 19 crisis, I am grateful to be alive and to be able to
include this deep pain in my history.
****
My professional life…
My miserable life…
My new job which I was forced to leave
This is the life
that Bank of
because of Bank of America
lawyers America forced me to live.
involved dishonestly. They lied to the
The door of my
house is
Court saying they won’t contact
my new now the door of storage.
employment if I told them where I was
working.
My
memories…
My loneliness…
They s warm me up from the inside, but they
Isolation is a dream killer…
also tear me
apart. I miss my job and my
devastation is overwhelming me
beloved friend; both are gone.
My
American Dream…
I worked hard to keep a decent place to make my
living.
My other place to
think on a paper…
Writing eases my suffering,
I feel totally cut off
from the rest of the world.
===================================================================
HOME#
18 BRONX, NEW YORK
October 17, 2018-Present
October 17, 2018-Present
While I resist the hell, I live at home 18, I'm preparing my
defense to file with the court in the landlady's lawsuit against me. This is
one of the most relevant events in my case that I'm not going to let go
unnoticed.
Mr. Ivan Urbano is Mrs. Catano's another cousin. After my
move I met him in the kitchen only three times. He also told me about his
sister Clara's unpleasant attitude and suggested that I pay no attention to
her. On November 16, 2019 Mr. Ivan came to my room saying he wanted to
tell me something. He sat on a chair and I sat on the edge of my bed. He told
me that since he came from his country over a year, haven’t had sex because he
had no money to date a woman. He began to make fun at me by saying that an old
lady like me can have a lot of orgasms with a 40-year-old man like him. He had
a thin pajama and it was evident that he was not wearing underwear, the
erection and movement of his penis was vulgar.
Suddenly he came up to me to rub his penis on my arm, I
could feel his sexual arousal and his intentions to rape me. I pushed him out
of my body asking to leave my room. He sat down for a few minutes and then came
back to me clutching my face to kiss me. He grabbed my hair too, saying it
smelled good. I started walking in the
room telling him to leave. Before he left, he asked me if he could masturbate
in front of me. I yelled at him saying not to. The next day I told Mrs. Catano
about her cousin's sexual assault. She believed me, but no action was taken.
****
My life in this house has been a nightmare I've never lived
before. This sex stalker has decided to play hide-and-seek with me. He
purposely leaves his bedroom door to harass me, walks down my side covering his
intimate parts with a towel. I can't go to the kitchen because it's his
favorite place and he stays listening to music for a long time. I have to walk
with caution not to find him and stumble upon him in the dark.
September 6, 2019- October 17, 2019
On September 5, 2019, I went
to see a building across the street looking for a studio apartment. I spoke to
a nice super but told me there was nothing available in the building. I asked
if he knew anyone to rent a room, he called one of his friends. Around 5:30
p.m. I met with her. The building had no elevator, there were 26 steps to go to
the second floor. As soon as we entered the building it had a strong smell of
marijuana. The apartment was in front of the area where trash and recyclable
were stored. She lived with her 86-year-old mother and a 55-years-old brother.
Some days a 72-year-old woman would help care for the mother and stay with the
family. There was a camera in front of the room. The landlady asked for weekly
payments of $150.00 and a $150.00 deposit. I took the room like a raft of
salvation to leave the current house.
Around 6:30 pm I started
moving my stuff by myself, the landlady offered to help me, but she gave up
after bringing two suitcases. It was hard to get everything down from a seventh
floor and then climb 26 steps, my shopping cart was heavy by itself. The
landlady told me she'd ask her brother to help me, but he never showed up. I
offered him $50.00 to bring things to the room. The brother was sitting in the
living room watching TV and observing me struggle to open the door. The super
called me surprised by my move even though he knew my situation. The new
landlady complained that it was late at night and I should hurry. She told me
her mother slept early and she worked the next day. Her job was as a
lady-in-waiting for an older person. She left the house at 5:30 p.m. and
returned at 8:00 a.m. the next day, 3 days a week. She was mad at me and told
me that if she knew I had so many things she hadn't rented me the room. The
pain in my legs was intense and exhausting me.
I had already moved more than
half my belongings and still had some more trips. I had no choice but to call
the super to accept his friend's offer to help me. He made only 3 trips and was
upset about going up the stairs, left me alone around 9:00 pm. I paid him
$50.00 and he seemed unhappy. I made the last two trips dragging my things and
running down the street about to pass out. When I finished moving in, the
landlady warned me not to make noises because she didn't want complaints from
people downstairs. The next day at 5:30 am the noises from the recycling and
trash collection woke me up. A lot of flies came into the room. The landlady’s brother
every day made me feel repudiation towards him. He put marks on the toilet
paper to see if I used it. He was hiding
behind my back to see if I used the things of the house. In the morning he
would get up at the same time as me and take possession of the kitchen and
bathroom. My room was in front of his and besides the living room and bathroom.
On September 21, 2019 I met
the super in a vegetable shop and informed me that another of his friends was
renting a room on the third floor where the studio was. On October 17, 20202 I still believed in his false promises to get an
apartment. I moved to a place of corruption where I was sexually assaulted, my
food was poisoned, and I was accused of possible murder of the landlady and her
son. I decided to unmask abusive and intimidating landlords with tenants who
with a room help them pay the rent.
HOME#
16. Grand Concourse Bronx, New York
July 6, 2019 -September 6, 2019
My dream of having privacy
and freedom in an apartment in New York became a nightmare and begins in this
house. I ran into the super of a building in Grand Concourse, Bronx. We had a
meeting in the basement where he lives. After knowing my financial situation,
he assured me that I qualified for a studio apartment and he was also a
personal friend of the owner and would use his influence to help me. He
informed me that by mid-July 2019, two studios would be unoccupied, one on the
third floor and the other on 8. He showed the third floor, the tenant who lived
there opened the door for us. He had a friend on the seventh floor with a room
to rent and there I could wait for the studio. I paid him $150.00 commission
and accepted the offer with great enthusiasm.
The room was technically a
closet. The landlady asked for $800.00 rent, but with the help of the super low
price to $600.00 per month. The room
had a sink and a toilet, and could not have a key because the landlady used the
sink to brush her teeth. She gave me a small area in the fridge for my food.
The kitchen was disgusting. The stove had pots on top that should be in the
same position after cooking. I wasn't allowed to use the counters, the landlady
had them full of things on purpose, no microwaves or any electrical appliances.
There were 2 large rooms rented to two men. On the day of my move I met one of
them. This man gave me a bad report on the landlady saying, "That woman is worse than the
devil." By her lifestyle in somehow, I agreed with him, but I believed
the promises of the super that I would be there only for a few weeks.
This tenant constantly had
strong arguments with the landlady. He had threatened her if she kicked him out
of the house, he would report to the court that she receives more than $2000.00
in rent living under public assistance. She paid only $553.51 rent. The
landlady told me that he had asked her to marry her to get papers. Although he
did his best to gain my trust by offering me protection and sharing some of his
food with me, he was not a reliable person to me. This landlady was a demanding
and harassing woman. The apartment was full of plastic bags and did not allow
opening any window, it smelled horrible. Her bedroom was the dining room and
from her bed she controlled who was in the kitchen and for how long. I cooked rice
and eggs in the bathroom.
The man who rented the other
room caught my attention every time I went to take a shower. I observed strange
events by his door, it seemed that they came from the rituals of evil. Every
day different things appeared and what worried me most was the lock on the
floor. He joined the landlady to go against the other tenant. I saw him three
times and we only said hello. On July 28, 2019, the landlady was not home and
the tenant I met was cooking. He asked me to lend him a pot. When he gave it
back to me, he kissed me on the shoulder and grabbed my face tightly to kiss my
mouth. I turned it down and went back to my room. Since then, I've tried to
avoid him. Even though I refused to get his food, he still left me something in
the fridge. I stopped talking to him. On September 4, 2019, I found a dead
mouse by my bed. I've never seen mice in my room or fecal waste. That night I
decided to get out of this hellhole.
May 23, 2019 - July 6, 2019 $600.00
On
May 1, 2009 a neighbor informed me that a woman from first floor was renting a
room. She spoke already to her about me and the woman wanted to meet me. This
day I had a very hectic day due to an unexpected problem with the Social
Security. I was trying to get my retirement to be able to rent a
studio-apartment. I received a phone
call informing me that the file shows my gender as male, and I should go to any
social security offices to fix it before applying for my retirement. I was sent
to different offices and my identifications were not enough to prove I am a
female. When I arrived at the last office a security guard asked me the reason
of my visit. I told him I was going to change my sex. The man started laughing
and making fun at me. In my desperation
to make me understand I told him that I was able to show my body if my gender
with my IDs can't be corrected. (US passport and driver license). My words were
misinterpreted and caused alarm. The guard thought I was going to take my
clothes off to expose my body in public and called an employee. Finally, I
could apply for sex change.
This was a one-bedroom studio
with a small kitchen integrated into the living room. The landlady rented her
bedroom to sleep on a sofa in the living room. I found it a nuisance to her due
to the small space of the room, there she had the dining room, two bikes, TV
and fridge. The bedroom had 2 beds, 4-night tables, a bike and a chest of
drawers between the beds. The rent was $600.00
plus $300.00 deposit. The landlady wanted me to make the decision to rent quickly
because she had more people interested in renting the room. I didn't ask why so
many furniture inside the room, I assumed it could be due to lack of space, but
when I took the room her stuff would be taken out. A day before my move the landlady took me to
the room, looked at the beds and asked me which bed I would choose to sleep in.
I replied that any bed was the same for me, immediately she told me that she
would sleep in the other bed. I was in shock; she didn't inform me that the
room was to share. I didn't accept the terms.
May 23, 2019, I moved in,
even though I knew that the relationship with the landlady was not going to
work, I had no choice. I couldn't afford to lose $900.00 already given to her.
On top of that, the previous landlady wouldn't take me back. I asked to get her
things out of the room, my request caused an argument between us. She said the
room was to share not for myself. She accused me of taking possession of her
apartment and became my enemy. At night, when I brought my stuff, she
complained because I had so many things. She went into the room and closed her
eyes saying the room was full and I had more stuff than her. She was very
upset, warning me that the room must be clean. She didn’t give me the key to
the room and restricted the electricity by turning off the light. She used the
bathroom for a long time. I had to wait until she finished doing her makeup. It
was hard for me to cook even a breakfast; she was pretending to sleep but
supervising me. I stayed a month and a half that I paid for.
June 15, 2019,
I went to a building located at Grand Concourse Bronx, NY searching for a
studio-apartment and the super put me in a room at home # 16.
August 23rd, 2017-Mayo 23, 2019
On August 19, 2017, I walked
around a church in search of a generous heart to help me find a place to live.
After long hours sitting on the edges that separated the church from the public
sidewalk, as a miracle a man left the church and became my Guardian Angel with a room. On August
23, 2017 I moved into a one-bedroom apartment. I rented 6 x 8 feet from a
15-foot living room for $500.00. My
space had 2 large broken windows that on snow days entered the room. To
open-close I had to crawl on mattresses bouncing off the bed. As a headboard of
the bed there was a radiator that could not be used due to excessive heat for
the size of the room. Under this radiator the mice had their burrow and it was
difficult to catch them due to the lack of room to move things.
The living room was divided
by a thin wall that allowed to hear everything from the other part that was the
entertainment area. This area was very dark. A large TV connected to music and
speakers hung on this wall. Next to my
bedroom door was a glass-decorated bar display case and when I came out, I
would hit my arms. The kitchen didn't have a space for me, not even to wash a
dish. The bathroom sink didn't have room either. The apartment was completely
full, even behind the exit door. The landlady informed me that her son and
sister had the keys to the apartment and her 11-year-old grandson stayed with
her for a few days. Besides, her boyfriend spent most nights with her. The sister
was the security guard to supervise me, and the boy a troublemaker for me.
The landlady had a strange attitude, seemed upset by my
presence in the apartment, it was clear that she wanted complete privacy and I
was on her way. Her room was at the end by the bathroom and when I had to use
it and her door was open, she aggressively threw it on my face without saying
anything. In the morning, to avoid my greeting as I left the house, she would
wear headphones pretending not to listen to me. She had a very jealous attitude
when her boyfriend was at the dining table, when she heard me leave the house,
she covered him with her body to prevent us from seeing each other. I
recognized him by the screaming voice and saw him twice during the time I
rented the room. He was a married taxi driver who visited her around midnight.
I knew when they were fighting by her bad humor. The landlady was almost my age
and acted like a teenager girl to impress him. The lingerie that hung in the
bathroom were thongs that looked like the girls' headbands. They were both
useless in the house, I made some repairs for them.
The landlady always locked the apartment with a chain at any
time of the day or night, even when we were both at home. This was just a
precaution, to avoid being surprised by some of her romantic companions. I had
to call or text her to open the door. What made me very angry was when she was
in her room with music and didn't listen to the bell or the phone. I was stayed in the room for most of my time to avoid her looks of contempt and arrogance.
In addition to this miserable life, upstairs tenants made a lot of noise after
midnight. A woman on the first floor offered me a rental room, I took another
challenge. The Guardian Angel
burst his wings against my heart, he said I was a diamond in the rough and
wanted to polish me. I left him alone going back to heaven.
Home #13 Lisbon Pl, Bronx New York
March 10, 2017- August 23,
2017
I moved from the first to the second floor of the
same house. The apartment had 3 bedrooms; the largest was by the balcony. Here
lived a woman with a disabled son who was later forced to move out for not
paying rent. She was the friend of my former landlady assigned by her to kill
me. Next to this room was a large room with curtains hanging from the wall.
This space was occupied by a woman and 2 daughters, one 12 years old and the
other 4. On November 2016 the
owner brought them home and became their mentor 4. On the other side were two
small rooms; one rented to a postman for 5 years and the other was mine. The
rent was $500.00. I learned that in
this room one of the previous tenants was found dead. The owners took the body
to the park and sat it on a bench. This
way the house would not be involved in the death. The mail man reported
the tenant's death to the owners.
The woman and her daughters took the apartment as
their property and made life hell for the other tenants. They were protected by
the owner of the house who included them in taxes as dependents and helped them
obtain migrant refugee visas. Fights, noises and screams were frequent. The postman
got up at 2:30 a.m. and couldn't sleep. During the night the mother was not at
home and during the day she slept, she would wake up shortly before going to
work. The daughters were practically unattended. The eldest had to cook and
care for the 4-year-old who was very naughty. I found her alone hanging on the
balcony and sick in the bathroom. Several times the police came home to control
the misconduct of the minors and the mother against me and the postman.
The mail man and I became
friends and teamed up to fight the wrongdoings of the mother of daughters. This
woman used to curse this man in Spanish, and he couldn't understand. They had a psychological war to the point
where they were not tolerated, they would throw the doors when they met. We
share part of our personal lives. He came to this house after he split up with
his wife. He was devastated by the situation and the owners took advantage of
that. He paid $750.00 rent including bed
rent.
The homeowner was a blind
man, but people doubted that. He gave the mail man a phone charging $25.00 a
month. This was a damaged old phone that was given for free, I tried to buy a
battery, but it was discontinued. The owner's sister lent him money by charging
twice the loan. In July 2017 he showed me a $3000.00 debt. I witnessed some
transactions that both recorded in a notebook. The death of one of his brothers
left him badly despondent, he died of a heart attack at his daughter's
sixteen-years party. I went to the funeral. The hell I lived, and the bedbug
invasion forced me to move out.
On October 17, 2017, I
received a call from the owner's sister informing me that when she went to
collect the rent to the postman found him dead. The room had a pestilent smell
due to the rot of its body; the worms ran down the wall and came out under the
door. She deduced that he was dead in his bed for at least two weeks, his face
was skeleton. The girls' mother posts this miserable event on her Facebook
comparing the worms to the rice scattered everywhere. This terrible news left
me in shock and his death brought me lot of pain. R.I. P. Anthony M Caputo.
Home #12 Lisbon Pl, Bronx New York
October 10, 2016-March 10, 2017
A woman from one of the Hispanic shops located at the same street as the previous apartment informed me that one of her clients
was renting a room. the landlords were a couple and asked for $1,000.00 rent
and deposit. The room had no bed and the door was clear plastic with a curtain.
Next door was a room rented to a 25-year-old Korean student. The first day the
landlady showed me the room for rent, she opened the Korean student's door so I
could see how messy he was. He paid $600.00. The landlady asked $100.00 more
for cleaning. I needed a place to live, and moved in.
My landlords were married on 2015 as soon they
discovered the cancer in the landlord. This man through public assistance for
the treatment of cancer began a process to legalize his immigration status in
the United States. The landlady expected to obtain her residence through him.
The Chemotherapy ruined the intimate functions of the husband and they lived in
separate rooms. They were gamblers. A day after Christmas they invited me to a
casino. Each of one had properties in their country.
THIS IS THE MOST
TREACHEROUS, AND CORRUPT LANDLORD I’VE EVER MET
A boy named "Carlitos" was given to this
57-year-old landlady to be a nanny. This
woman used the child to extort a man for money, cheating on him with false
fatherhood and motherhood. This man knew her when he made pizza deliveries at
the age of 17. Although the couple looked like mother and son, they had a
clandestine affair over the years. The landlady told him that she had become
pregnant of him and because she was a married woman, she had to keep their son
a secret. The man gave her child support and financial aid based on her lie. They
go out during baby-sitter time. He was 27 years old and still believed in this
Machiavellian story made by this corrupt woman
The child's mother was unaware of what was
happening with her son. She was a single mother and the boy's father didn't
care about him being a married man. Because of the difficulties the landlady
had in taking the child to the pizza man, she told him that she had to send their
son to her country. She was asking him for plane tickets to make him think she was
bringing and returning the kid. She had promised him that when her husband died,
she would fix his immigration status. He believed it too.
The boy was forced to call his fake parents’ mom
and dad. I listened to the landlady asking the child, "Who am I?" The boy answered in an insecure voice "Mom." The supposed father
was proud to show Facebook photos of his supposed son. The landlady was very
cautious not to be discovered by her husband or the kid’s mother. The husband
found many calls to the same number on her phone. He researched and they were
from the pizza man, he also saw pictures of the boy on his Facebook. Although
the landlady denied his suspicion, he forbade her to bring the child into the
house. She did it in secret. The child's mother had financial trouble paying
for her services as a nanny and this made her criminal business difficult. A
tenant was an accomplice and she told me the story. There were other terrifying
facts. The house owner offered me a room to rent and I accepted.
HOME # 11 E Mosholu Parkway Bronx, New York
August 13, 2016
October 10, 2016
On August 06.2016 a
friend and I were drawn by a political event near a park. We approached a woman
who handed out shopping bags with sponsoring team emblem. I asked if she knew
anyone who had a room for rent. She immediately invited us to her apartment
which was on the first floor of the event headquarters building. The woman took
us straight to the only room she had. The apartment was a little messy, she told
us was cleaning, but had to go to the church where worked and then attend the
festival. She said does not sleep in the bedroom because she liked to sleep in
the living room. She needed money to help her daughter who was going through an
economic crisis due to a divorce with two infants. The rent was $ 500.00.
She introduced
herself as a person devoted to the Church where she spent most of her time. She
handed out food to those in need and brought a lot for her house. She invited
me to use what she had in the fridge. She confessed to me that she has just
ended a 24-year relationship and wanted to resume her life. Her fiancé was an
inconsiderate man. Also wanted to improve her writing skills and she saw in me
her inspiration. She told me that her stepfather had income tax businesses and she
was his right-hand especially during tax periods. She didn't have a cell phone
because it was cut off but had cable services with TV. All these references
made me happy to take the room.
This experience was
unique, and I asked God never to repeat it again. My landlady was a woman with
mental health problems, with manic episodes, schizophrenia, depression, drug addiction, sexual aberration and
domestic violence. She didn't sleep more than 3 hours, she spent most of her
time on the streets during the day and night.
Many times, I couldn't go to the kitchen to avoid seeing violent sex
scenes. At first, I went like her coffee
shop, she woke me up to ask for a cup of coffee. Often, asked me for $1.00,
then $.50 cents, 25 cents any change. I documented it every day as a prisoner
who writes its diary, all in fear of being involved in a tragedy. I was always
afraid to find her in a hospital, a prison or at a funeral.
I survived 60 days under mental terror. Here are some of them: Day 7: On August 19, 2016 I was in
shock when I arrived home and found the landlady unconscious sitting on the
couch. Her younger sister was trying to revive her. She blamed at her ex. Day 8: the landlady told me she
felt depressed and tired working for the Church. The relationship with the
priest seemed diabolical because she wanted to be with him. Day 11: August 23, 2016, she introduced
me to her ex. I was surprised since she had told me that she had ended her
relationship with him. Also said that she missed the activities of the Church. Day 30: September 11, 2016 around 4:00 am I heard a fight. The landlady threatened to
hit her ex. Suddenly something blew out, and the noise was very loud. I was
afraid to leave the room; she had broken the glass of her eating table. Day 43: September 24, 2016 she had an
argue with her ex for not having sex with her.
On
October 11, 2016, I found the landlady naked in the bathroom. She seemed having
a drug-overdoses, she tried to greet me with a smile, and it broke my heart. I was
really terrified, I left her. A man was at home when I returned the key, she
was not there.
HOME #10 Grand Concourse Bronx, New York
October 17, 2015-August
13, 2016
This apartment was
on 7th floor, had two large bedrooms occupied by the landlady and her niece.
There was a small room between the bathroom and the kitchen rented by a nice
lesbian woman. The landlady rented me part of the living room for $500.00. I was struggling to pay for my
credit cards and was forced to damage my good credit history. On October 12, 2015, I made the last
expense. I bought four folding doors of plastics and materials to make a wall.
The super’s building charged me $250.00 for installing them, the investment was
$642. 21. Days after, I received an
invitation from Bank of America offering me a credit card based on my excellent
credit history. This letter has been the most miserable and humiliating offer I
have received.
The mother of the landlady
lived in the apartment upstairs with her youngest son. I met them; they were
good people. The older sister used to come and visit the family. The landlady
told me she wasn't happy living with her niece because she wanted to control
her life. She always had a hostile attitude and stopped talking to her for
periods of time. Indeed, there was a war between them. A few days after I moved
in, I was in the kitchen with the niece. Suddenly, the niece was holding the
glass’s cup of the coffee maker and it fell to the floor on pieces. I helped to
clean the area. When the landlady tried to make coffee, she didn't see the cup.
The niece was silent. I felt involved and showed the pieces on the trash saying
the niece had broken it. The aunt in a humble voice said, "I guess my niece didn't sleep well and woke up in a bad
mood."
The landlady often
called New York City to complain about the heating. The living room was very
cold, the heaters were not working properly. One day I burned my hand trying to
open the radiators to see if the valve was closed. There were a lot of mice
running from the kitchen to my room. The super charged $6.00 to put a foil
under the radiators where the mice hid. The landlady warned me that if I put in
my room, I had to pay for the 10 she has in the apartment. Neither the landlady
nor her niece cooked and fought over groceries, ate whatever they found in the
fridge no matter who it belonged to. The other tenant and I were hiding the groceries.
I had a trunk with a key. One day I was sick and made a soup. I left it on the
stove while it was getting cold. The unashamed landlady ate and gave her
daughter without my permission.
On January 29,
2016, the other tenant moved out. I asked the landlady for her room, but she hesitated
to give it to me. She wanted $600.00 rent and had to leave the division I made
to rent the room to someone. I took the room even though I was not allowed to
have a lock. I removed the walls I paid for. Suddenly I was embroiled in a war
of envy and greed between the two of them. I became part of the niece's hatred.
One day she came up to me and put her middle finger almost touching my face
while cursing. She spoke to me in vulgar words. In addition to this situation,
I had to run away from the previous landlady. Despite having left her
apartment, she was still obsessed to stalk me. She followed me every time she
saw me, she waited for me in the elevator. She chased me through the streets,
approaching me from behind and sometimes putting her hands on my shoulders. I
was forced to flee from my enemies.
HOME #9 Grand Concourse Bronx, New York
Julio 12, 2015- October
17, 2015
I met a woman from my country of birth at a Hispanic parade. She was
supporting her son who was pursuing a political position in the Bronx. She informed
me that one of the tenants of her building was renting a room. That day I went
to see the landlady. We had the first disagreement. She asked for a copy of my
driver's license and I refused to give it to her. She wouldn't tell me her name
and I didn't feel confident on her. The room for rent had no bed, there was a
sofa bed, but I couldn't use it because it belonged to her daughter. I had to
sleep in a convertible armchair I had. The rent was $500.00.
Although I had a strange feeling about her, I agreed to move. The room
had some religious items, frames, crosses, and a support for praying. For space reasons, I refused to keep them.
The landlady wasn't happy for not having her religious stuff. She told me that
her relationship with her husband was not working and that she was dedicated to
God. Soon I realized that something was wrong with her. She repeated events
several times that she had already said. The apartment looked like a cemetery
full of crosses, some large other small. The first night I was afraid when I
went to the bathroom, it was dark and I heard someone snoring in the living
room, but I couldn't see anyone. On the third day, I saw a man's feet coming
off a couch. Later, I found out that
this person was her husband.
Two weeks later, the landlady caught my eye. She walked inside the house
only in her underwear; looked like a big baby with a wet diaper. She didn't
mind showing the shape of her intimate parts. On July 27, 2015, I realized that
she had opened my room to check my stuff. One day I forgot a container in the
bathroom and then I saw it among her things. On September 09, 2015, when I paid
the rent, the landlady asked me for help paying the electricity bill. She told
me was two months late with a balance of almost $700.00. She never showed me
the bill. I refused to give extra money. The next day the microwave dish was
missing, she had hidden it with the excuse that her daughter left it dirty. She
also removed the shower head and stopped the cold water. She kept the apartment
dark and I had to walk with a flashlight to go to the bathroom or kitchen.
The landlady started a non-stop chasing towards me. She was waiting for me
by the bathroom door or kitchen or anywhere I was, at any time of the day or
night. Every day it increased. The bathroom door had no lock and she would come
in to see if I was there. One day her husband told me about the difficulties of
living with his wife. He couldn't sleep in his room because it was full of
crosses, including the bed. When she listened to religious speeches shouted
loud slogans for me, I could understand that she believed that I had a devil and
had been assigned to remove it. On 18 September 2015,
I felt desperate and terribly harassed that I asked the woman who
recommended me this Haitian family, for help. Her apartment was on the same
floor just a few doors away. She offered me to move to her living room. A niece
and a lesbian woman rented the rooms. The only problem was that I needed to
find a way to have some privacy; and she had no money to divide the room with a
wall. I had to do it.
HOME# 8 Gerard Ave Bronx New York
June 06, 2015- Julio
12, 2015
It was so hard for me to find a place to live that
I had to go to a rental room agency. This business was really a travel agency;
there was a woman at a desk by the entrance to the office with a list of rooms
for rent. The rate to find the room was a week's rent and had to be paid in
cash. I had no choice but to accept it. I was sent to different places, but at
first glance I was scared. One of them had a rental room made in a hallway with
only curtains hanging from the wall. Most of the rooms were disappointing and
without any privacy.
I didn't have
much choice, but I decided to rent at least the less bad. The room was the
living room of a one-bedroom apartment. The landlady lived with her husband, a
12-year-old daughter, a 17-month-old baby. There was a small dog, but they kept it always in a closet. The dog was very aggressive, and he just go to the
bathroom to do his needs. The rent was $500.00,
and the landlords asked $125.00 as a one-week deposit.
After my move
I learned that the only bedroom of the apartment was rented to a couple. The
family slept on a double-sized sofa-futon located in the small hallway at the
entrance of the apartment. It was 8 feet wide by 16 lengths. There was a flat
TV against the living room wall and a small crib in front of the kitchen
entrance. When the family was sleeping, I had to leave my room through the kitchen
door so as not to wake them up. The wife slept with her head next to the feet
of her husband and daughter with her legs on the mother's body. Most of the
time I found the girl with her head hanging from the futon. They all looked
like cans of sardines. I couldn't believe how these people lived; the couple
didn't have privacy either.
The miserable
habits of living of the family do not matter to me, what was terrible for me
was not having peace to sleep. I had a great space, but no privacy. The husband
had two jobs and came home around midnight. At that time the wife began cooking
and the whole family was awake until dawn the next day. The baby was not
allowed to sleep at night because the wife slept during the day. This girl used
to scream loud when she wanted something. Many times, she knocked on my door
with the bottle of her milk or threw toys.
Around 5:00 am finally the family was quiet, but I could no longer
sleep.
In addition to
all these inconveniences when I was going to the bathroom there was always
waiting time, the family also used it to change clothes. I had to be careful
not to walk through the dog poop and dirty diapers. I couldn't resist lack of
sleep and decided to live the $125.00 deposit as a one-week rent payment and
move out.
April 04, 2015- June 06, 2015
I met a woman on the street and asked her about a room to rent. She told me she was renting her son's room
because he was in jail. He was not allowed to come home after being released
due to drug problems. The room was part of the living room and it could not be
locked because it had the emergency windows. The rent was $400.00, and she was
requesting a $400.00 deposit. She lived with her 17-year-old daughter and a
troubled tenant who has been with her for 3 years. She told me that I must be
careful with her fickle attitude if I wanted to rent the room.
The day after my moving I was disappointed. There was no shower. People
in the house would pick water in a bucket and with a bowl they would take their
showers. I heard an argument between the landlady and her daughter because the
girl stayed a long time in the bathroom listening to music. She slept with the
mother in the same bed. No one could throw toilet paper inside the toilet, it
had to be thrown in an open dumpster and this was disgusting. It was hard for
me to take a shower and I bought a shower head with a hose.
The building had poor maintenance; there was trash on the floors and
empty beer bottles on the stairs. One
morning I found a man on the stairs and I got scared, I didn't know if he was
alive or dead. This was a very old place, the ceiling of my room had 2 large
cracks and the pieces were falling off. Only one window of the room could be
opened, but the smell of garbage, insects and building material was an
inconvenience.
Two weeks later I was in shock. The landlady introduced me to her son
who was free of prison. At first glance
he had an attitude towards me, he didn't greet me, and he didn't look at me
either. The next day I heard a conversation saying he wanted to get his room
back. He was sleeping on a sofa against the wall that separates the room from
the living room. It was obvious that the landlady used my rent money to get the
son out of jail.
I got along with the other tenant. One night she told me the history of the
family witnessed by her. The landlord’ son was trafficking illegal drug in his
room. One day he sold heroin to two undercover policemen. Later, they arrived
at the apartment and went to his room in search of drugs. The tenant, mother,
daughter and son were handcuffed. The mother tried to resist the arrest and
fell to the floor, hurting herself. She
used this incident to file a lawsuit against the police. The next day they were
released, but the son was imprisoned. As the landlord was taking public
assistance she was not permitted to live with her son, but she sneaked him in.
Entering the bathroom became impossible, the landlady's children stayed
inside for hours. The son used it to consume heroin, which was his addiction.
He would fall asleep sitting in the bathroom and the syringes would throw them
in the toilet. One morning I found him naked in the living room. At night he
screamed and sang in vulgar language. Since he was so close to me, I couldn't
sleep he would come out and walk into the apartment frequently. I lived the rental
deposit and ran away scared.
CASA# 6 Carroll Pl. Bronx, Nueva York
4 de octubre de 2014 04 de abril de 2015
After two weeks living in this house, the landlady told me that her
husband would come to New York the first week of September. They were separated
because he complained that she was a difficult person to live with and that
they could not speak without a fight. In December 2014, she informed me that
her husband had returned to her life and he will live with her again. He
reopened a cleaning business he used to have before the marriage ended. This
man had no voice or command in the house, their son told me that his father was
like a zero to the left for his mother. One day this woman had the nerve
to ask me to cook for her husband and son. I did not accept it and she became
my enemy. On February 09, 2015 the husband returned to his country.
Soon I realized that the landlady was an irritable, resentful, spoiled,
arrogant and selfish woman. Often, she refused to talk to me and shouted that
she had no time for me. A courtesy greeting was much for her. All I heard was domestic violence, constant
screaming and disrespect between mother and son, they always left me terrified
and nervous. This woman was creating a monster in her son who longed to become
a New York police officer. The drama I experienced with these people forced me
to write a diary. Every day I thought a tragedy could happen in every fight. My
writings and some recordings could be useful for a legal investigation if it
was necessary.
Most of the time I had to cover my ears to avoid
hearing the knocks against the door, as well as objects that were throwing to
the wall or the floor to destroy them. Televisions, cell phones, chairs and
even a laptop were destroyed by the landlady in a fight with her son. I was treated like a stupid
person, and so I acted to avoid being another victim of domestic violence. On March 16, 2015, I was awakened
by the landlady’s screams to her son saying: “Son of the big bitch you fell
asleep late last night and does not want to go to school.” She worked at night and returned the next day. The son told me that his grandmother felt
afraid to talk to her own mom. I decided to move out. Besides of all of this, my
car was ransacked by the building maintenance man. This man had spent most of
life in prison and was famous for stealing cars. He wanted I pay him to move my
car during street cleaning days. I did it myself. I lost many documents, my
GPS, and books.
August 02, 2014- October 4, 2014
I went back to Craigslist to find another place to
live. I found a lady who said she lived
with her 12-year-old son and ex-fiancé. She was renting a room for $400.00 and asked for a month's
deposit. The apartment was on the sixth floor. The living room was divided into
two rooms and one of them was the one for rent. The room had a double bed
almost the size of the room, my things piled up against the wall leaving a
space to walk of 2 feet by 5. The other room was like a closet, only had a bunk
bed for children where the landlord and his son slept. The master bedroom was
occupied by her ex-fiancé.
The landlady had decided to go to college in the morning and
have a part-time job in the afternoon. This allowed her to work 20 hours a week
and receive public assistance. Her son was injured in a public-school during play
time and she had filed a lawsuit. She told me he was attending a Catholic
school because she didn't like her son meeting with Hispanic or black kids. The
boy's father lived in her country and was the mother's brother-in-law. He was a
white man and his son inherited the color of the father with the complexion of
the mother who had dark skin. I was shocked to hear this kind of racism being
that she was Hispanic, and the color of her skin was dark. Although I had a bad
impression about this woman and her feelings of racial discrimination angered
me, I took the room.
On August 21, 2014
when I got home the apartment was dark. Suddenly I found the landlady sitting
at the kitchen table with a lighted candle and crying. The first thing that
came up to mind was that someone had died. I remembered the "project"
building where candles lit as a memorial of a dead person. The landlady told me
she had money issues and she might lose the apartment for not paying the rent.
She had to choose between paying rent or overdue electrical services nearly
$760.00. Since May 2014, the ex-fiance had not helped her enough because he had
four underage children from other relationships. That night she left home and I
was left alone with a candle lit. The food I had in the fridge was damaged, I
couldn't recharge my computer or my phone.
The next day I had a bad day at my protest and felt sick. I had chest
pain and ended up in a hospital. Saturday morning when I got home from the
hospital still the apartment had no electric service. The landlady blamed at her
fiancé for the unpaid bill. I decided to move, but I knew the landlady couldn't
give me back the $400.00 deposit. I told her I'd take this money as payment for
the month of September. The landlady
didn't like my decision and started to feel distrustful of me. During the month
she didn't talk to me and she maintained a hostile attitude. She removed the TV
that was in the hallway, hid the computer that was on a table as well as some
kitchen utensils. All of this in fear of I would steal them. To make her
feel comfortable, I warned her not to worry about being robbed by me, as this
would never happen. I assured her that despite the misery I have experienced, I
have never lost my dignity, or personal integrity.
HOME # 4 Kelly Street Bronx, New York
April
4, 2014. - August 02, 2014
I found in a laundromat an advertisement of a room to rent. The building
was old, but the day of my visit was clean, and the elevator worked well. The
room was on the sixth floor. My move was dramatic because the previous landlord
was drunk following me. This day one of the elevators was out of order and
waiting for the other became a nightmare for me. I had to walk around the
building to keep this man from seeing me and following me in his car. I could
only carry three boxes of books at a time. The day was rainy, and this made my
move worse.
The new landlord was a young man who lived with an old lady that was his
fiancée. The first day I met them, I thought she was his mother. The rent was $450.00. Seven people shared the
apartment. Every day one of the tenants had to clean the bathroom, kitchen and
hallway. Everyone had to have their own broom, mop and cleaning materials. My
room was next to the bathroom. I could hear all kinds of noises, annoying like
when someone used the toilet or vomited. The bathroom was always busy;
sometimes I had to stand by the door looking when it was available. Soon I learned
that the elevator was always out of service. I had to go down and up 6 floors with pain in
my knee.
The kitchen was the most disgusting place, cockroaches and mice were
running everywhere. The old lady made tortillas and many of them ended up in an
uncovered dumpster. This was a mouse restaurant. The landlady told me the mice
didn't bother her because they were fed with tortillas. These animals were in
my room night and day. Cockroaches didn't care either. I never used the kitchen
or got any food from anyone.
The landlord tried to make me his confidante. He told me about his
unhappy life, never had children and lived with the old lady for convenience
and compassion. He met her at the age of 26 and was younger than two of her seven children. They were together for 14 years. The old lady also told me
about her resigned life with a young man.
She was aware of not being pretty, young or an educated person for her
fiance. She didn't finish the second grade of elemental school and could barely write her name. The
landlord worked in a bakery. He would get up at 2:00 am and the old lady also
just to make h im breakfast. On weekends he had a video business, most of the
time inviting his fiancée to help him load his equipment. I got along with all
the tenants, including one that the landlords didn't like for bringing
prostitutes in the middle of the night.
On May 31,
2014, I was victim of extortion by a man who blamed at me for hitting his
car from behind when I was parking my car. He asked me for $100.00. I felt fear
for my life and paid for it. Then a young man claimed that he was in the car
and asked me for money. I refused to give it to him. The next day I found a message on my car’s
window next to the passenger in large letters that read: "FUCK YOU". On June 29, 2014 at midnight I heard two
shots on the block where I lived. The next day I learned that a few doors from
the building there was a rehabilitation center. At the end of the street there was a shelter
that also brought scandals. I could not resist the fears of the street and the
miserable situation of the house and decided to find another place.
HOME #3 Tinton Ave, Bronx New York
December
07, 2013- April 4, 2014.
Someone I met on the street sent me to a building called “Project”. Low-income people live in
these buildings. The apartment had 3 bedrooms and was on the 16th floor. The
landlady wanted to send a letter to the public housing, indicating that I was
her caregiver to live with her. The housing was considering moving her and her husband
to a one-bedroom apartment. Having me justified keeping the apartment. I
refused to contribute to the fraud. I rented one of her rooms for $400.00.
The building had poor maintenance. On my move-in day the boxes of my books could
not be put on the elevator floor, I had to keep them up. The elevator was
covered in urine, my shoes were soaked. Upon entering the 16th floor the smell
of marijuana was very strong and there was rubbish in the hallways. My room was
cold because the heating didn't work. The only window in the room was almost
the size of a wall and the glass was broken. There were three plants by the
window. My door had no lock because the landlady used to come into my room to
water the plants and pick up things she kept in my room. I had no space for my belongings.
There was no light on the ceiling, and I have to use an old table lamp that
produced a lot of heat on my head.
I had no privacy, the landlady had me in constant
supervision. When I cooked, she was on
my back looking and wondering what I was doing. On January 15, 2014, early in the morning she came to my door
screaming at me, saying the sun was shining, and I should go out on the street
to sell books. It was a cold day and I felt sick.
I could hear the constant fights between the landlady and
her husband. She spoke aloud because he pretended to be deaf. The husband was
an alcoholic and every day he was drunk. The landlady complained about drinking
at work risking getting fired. He
was also driving his car drunk. Every night there were very
strong arguments that I sometimes felt afraid of a tragedy. The apartment was
overrun with cockroaches and mice. One day I cooked chicken with rice and left
it at the kitchen counter to cool it off. Minutes later the containers were
completely covered by cockroaches. I left a bread on top of one of my boxes and
the mice made a big hole
On January 18, 2014,
when I returned from New Jersey, I found the building surrounded by police
cars. At the entrance there was a dead memorial
with lit candles. I got out of my car in shock and asked a police officer what
was going on. He informed me that a man who lived in the building was killed.
The walls and elevator had written messages; one of them caught my eye. It
said: “We mess you up.” I found out that this man was 23 years old
and lived on the 16th floor next to the apartment. I realized that crime in the
area was high especially on weekends. Every time I was looking for parking for
my car, I was terrified.
The unhealthy situation of the apartment, the landlady’s insistence
on making me part of the fraud, the harassing of the drunken husband, walking
through crime scenes and going up 16 floors unsecure forced me to move out of
this place.
HOME# 2. Hunter Ave Bronx New York
February 17, 2013-
December 07, 2013
After surviving cold temperatures, misery and hunger, I
found a room through Craigslist in the Bronx.
The financial aid that I had lost was reinstated and could pay a rent of
$425.00 including internet services.
Four other tenants shared the House. Two of them were attending to New York City
Police Academy and they rented until the end of the school. Their family lived
in New Jersey. One was English-speaking and the other Hispanic. The other
tenant was a young chef who worked night shift at a club. The main room was
rented to a man who occasionally came to the house. He had many years renting I
saw him twice and I thought he was a good person.
The Hispanic policeman was very special with me; he gave me
his phone number if I needed his help. When he cooked, he shared his food with me,
and he always wondered if I had had dinner. He showed me pictures of his
daughters and his wife saying he missed them. I felt a sincere friendship and
never thought he wanted a romantic relationship. On weekends he traveled to New
Jersey to see his family. He told me he stopped talking to the other cop
because of his immoral behavior of going out and inviting women from the
Academy into the house. He knew he didn't visit his family.
The chef was a good person, I helped him translating
documents into Spanish. His personal life was a mess and had many financial
problems. He liked strong alcoholic beverages. He had a large frame on the
floor with a photo of his dead father. All rooms of the house had carpet. He lit
a large candle and left it on the ground as he spoke to his father. The wax had
already ruined the carpet. Almost every night he was drunk, and I was always
afraid of an accidental fire. He thought his father would talk to him and give
him advices. Our rooms were separated only by a wall.
The situation at home worsened when the English-speaking
policeman decided to live with one of his mistresses in the house. This woman
was an arrogant person who not greeted anyone. She left her underwear on the
floor of the bathroom. Their room was just in front of the kitchen. On June 26
I went to the kitchen to made breakfast and I was in shock seeing the policeman
and his lover sleeping naked having the room’s door opened. The chef told me
that one day at noon he went to the kitchen and heard his screams and groans of
a sex act. This policeman always was drunk.
The landlord asked the chef to vacate the room due to late
payment on the rent. I moved into his room, which was bigger than the one I
had. A new tenant joined the hell of the house. He was an English-speaking
security guard. I tried to be nice to him, but his disrespectful attitude took
me away from him. He was constantly mocking my accent by repeating the words I
said. He reported the problems with the cop to the landlord. On November 24, 2013, around 6:00 pm the
policeman knocked abruptly at my door.
He stood in front of me with his gun exposed. He wore a shirt raised on
his chest and the gun hung from a belt held in his jean. He was furious
accusing me of talking to the landlord about him. Using the word Fuck called
me crazy and asked me to move out of the house. I was scared and I did it.
HOME# 1. Fresh Meadows, New York
September 04, 2012 -February
17, 2013
September 04, 2012,
I found in a newspaper a room to rent. The landlady accepted me with my old
poodle dog. The rent was $550. 00
per month plus $25.00 Internet services. I wasn't allowed to use the kitchen,
and this forced me to eat canned and frozen food. The landlady was a Hispanic
woman with two daughters (3, 10 years) and her fiancé father of the younger
girl. They also had a white dog like mine. Every space in the house was rented
to men. The landlady lived off public assistance and the City paid the rent of
the house about $1,000.00. She received for rent payments around $3,000.00 per
month. At the same time, she had a cleaning business under the name of a sister
who owned a restaurant. The living room was divided it into two parts, one for
her, the fiancé and the baby, the other side was separated by a low wall and
was part of the kitchen. In this room slept the eldest daughter and her
grandmother.
My room was located on the second floor next to two bedrooms
and behind the bathroom. One room was rented to three alcoholic men; they drank
every night making noises while playing loud music. The bathroom most of the time was disgusting.
These people would vomit on the floor and fall asleep in the bathroom. The
other room was rented to a married man who used to sleep with his lovers. The
basement was rented to two men one of them was an alcoholic who was harassing
the 10-year-old girl, I heard rumors that he was the landlady’s lover. He paid
rent with food stamps.
Neither the mother nor grandmother cared about the oldest
daughter. She was unhappy and depressed girl. In December, the mother had
plastic surgery. She removed the fat
from shoulders and back to increase her butt. She was obsessed by Jennifer
Lopez and wanted to have her body. It was almost impossible to happen for her
short stature and complexion. This procedure cost over $10,000.00 dollars. Her
daughter disagreed and felt jealous by the fatness of her body. In addition,
her mother stays naked at home showing to everyone how her new butt was. The
whole family did not like to bathe and did so twice a month when their bodies
stank. The 3-year-old girl was asthmatic and suffered constant vaginal
infections. The grandmother was a gambler. They abused their dog leaving him
outside crying of hunger and cold, this broke my heart.
There was no peace in the house, the loud fights between the
landlord, fiancé, grandmother, tenants and their daughters were frequent. My
life in this home became impossible. My room had no heating and could not have
a heater because of electrical problems in the room. Sometimes I had to open a
window to connect a wire to a switch of the
backyard. My dog was too old with medical problems and the arthritis could
hardly stand up. His health deteriorated quickly, and I had to put him to
sleep. When the landlord found me on tears for this painful loss, she mocked at
me saying I was a foolish crying over an animal. Her words hurt me tremendously
and I tried to avoid seeing her.
I was forced to stay homeless. I was struggling to pay the
rent, since the income I received from a relative was cut off. I rented storage
5 x 5 to keep the boxes of my books and sometimes spend a night there. This
place was cold as the street.
