Mi amor ~ Camilo Madrigal x oc~

1

Hola my dear reader, my name is Valentina Garcia. You can call me Val though all my friends do. But this isn't so much about my self..at least not now. For centuries my family have been labeled as outcasts. Bouncing from one label to another. It wasn't until my Abuela (grandmother) was thrown from her village labeled as a bruja (witch). You must understand my dear friend that my family and that of the Madrigal family is not so different. That in our origins.

Unlike Señora Alma my Abuela did not have three children nor was she married. Rather she had one son my Papi. A son which she had out of wedlock. And so like the Madrigal family we where too given a miracle in our time of need. Rather then a home and gifts of pure magic. We where gifted a curse as one may say. With in each generation one is born with a gift. Rather then of creation or growth. Of destruction.  My mamá was one of the only people to except my father. When in fits of rage the things he touches turn to dust. Mamá says that's why he left to protect us from him self. But now it seems like I could have learned.  Because out of my three siblings the curse was passed my way. Haunting my dreams and nightmares.

Maybe that's why I was so drawn to him. Why I didn't make him leave that day he peered over the fence. He could be anyone he wanted. Didn't have too always be one person. Not held down by a singular fate. This is what makes the two families so opposite. Although they fit so well together. In a way perfectly. My name is Valentina Garcia I was born with a gift that only brings pain, and this is my story.

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Sitting in the pale green rocking chair I laughed looking down at my book. The sound of sandals clicking against the wood filled my ears. My older sister leaned down into my face. Her deep brown eyes fixed on my own pale grey ones. Her pin straight raven hair fell onto my lap and around her face. She had a natural blush across her face the slightest sign of freckles underneath. Her thick lips, a natural light pink almost like she was constantly wearing lipstick, pursed as she looked from my eyes down to the book in my hands

Her voice was  soft and airy like my Mamá's , "What are you doing mi querida Hermana (my dear sister)."  She was naturally beautiful even though she would never realize it. She dreamed of being a mother. Sometimes at night you could hear her whispering prayers. Sometimes she prayed for our health, for my "gift", but mostly for Papa to come home. We shared a room. As did my younger two sisters. Mamá and Abuela shared a room for a short while in the small home. Up until Sofia (my older sister) cleaned out the attic so that Maria and Ana (my younger sisters) could move up stairs and Abuela gets her own room.

Sighing I looked back at the book, "Mami was making empanadas made the whole house smell." She laughed a little. It was sweet like what you would think candy sounded like. Straitening her self she sighed through her laughter, "Oh come on Mamá makes the best Empanadas. And the house always smells wonderful. What is it really?" Not looking up from the book I lifted a finger up pointing out towards the people. They laughed and danced through the street. Explosions of color in their clothes.

She looked out at the people a smile on her face, "Do you want to dance"? Shaking my head I looked up from the book finally, "No not them the idiota who keeps staring." His deep chocolate brown eyes met mine. Pointing at himself he looked around. A bright yellow ruana hung over his shoulders. Curly brown hair bounced just above his shoulders. Pressing her hand on my shoulder Sofia held her smile, "We've been living here for five years and you just realized he comes here."

To be honest I knew he was there. I saw him the first time and the second and the ones after that. It wasn't for a year until he got the courage to say hello. From then on it was small conversation when ever we saw one another. Two months ago he came up to the back fence. Gave me a smile talked some...I may or may have thrown somethings. Besides the point I haven't left the house anytime recently so I have been spared of seeing him.

I stood up slowly, "That's not creepy at all, Perra.(bitch)" A raspy voice carried through the door as I swung open the pale yellow door, "Cuida tu idioma (Watch your language)." Looking back at Sofia I scoffed, "Laugh and I'll kill you." Walking through the opening of the door way I yelled, "I'm sorry Abuela!" For a woman who curses like a sailor she has a funny way of dealing with her children's cursing. Some times you had to listen close to hear it but under her breath she was constantly cursing at the randomness of things.

I walked straight through the house past the kitchen that held the sent of fresh baked Empanadas. Past Ana and Maria who where playing cards at the table. Waving to Abuela who was folding laundry. Pushing open the back door I took in a deep breath the crisp air filling my lungs. It wasn't as loud anymore. Not as loud as the streets. The only sound was that of the wind whipping through the laundry that hang on the line. It smelled like fresh herbs. Mamá loves her garden its her prize possession. And this my dear reader is where our story really begins.

Before I got he chance to open my book. Before I could even sit down against a wall. The idiot peeked his head over the fence, "Hey Mami." Gripping onto the book I threw it at him, "What did I tell you about coming around to the back." Rubbing his forehead he pouted. He lifted him self upwards onto the thick concrete wall, we called it a fence sounded nicer,  "Why'd you call me a bitch." Sighing I ran my hand down my face, "Why do you keep coming here."

He looked hurt for a few seconds before smirking, "You have yet to tell me to get out." I walked towards him slowly, "Get this through your thick head Camilo you are stupid. And cant take a fucking hint." Sighing he swung his legs over the fence, "Is this you telling me to leave." I nodded, "This is me telling you to go drown your self in a river."  Rolling his eyes he poked my forehead. Swatting at his hand I looked appalled trying not to laugh. He wasn't wrong I had never told him to leave. Because some part of me liked the conversation.  Shoving him lightly I scoffed, "I will see your dumb ass at Antonio's gift thing."

His expression light up, "Your coming?" Shaking my head I turned away from him walking back towards the house, "Nope..." My family had never been to a gifting. And we didn't plan on going. We respected the Madrigal family deeply. It's just...hard for Abuela to look at their gifts in joy knowing why Papa left. Knowing our own curse that lay under my skin waiting to fianlly explode. Sometimes I wondered if Ana or Maria had it...maybe even Sofia. But Abuela says she knows it's me that she's known since I was a niñita (little girl).