Mi amor ~ Camilo Madrigal x oc~

17

For the past week, I've been having the same nightmare. Every time I close my eyes I can see myself hurting Camilo. When I try to stop it from happening no one can hear me. I scream and I cry and I wait for it to end. I've stopped sleeping altogether now. But every time I close my eyes I see myself. Standing there hurting him. I don't want to hurt him.  My eyes haven't lost their milky color. No matter how hard I focus or how much I try that's all I can see. 

He comes by the house every day asking about me. I can't even look at him let alone myself.  I told Mami just to turn him away if she sees him. But he keeps coming back. More and More. Sometimes he sits on the thick wall surrounding the house. And he looks up through my window. For just a second I can see the look on his face. That's where he was today. Sitting on the wall staring up at my window. He didn't get the hint that he needed to go away. I don't think he wanted to go away. 

It's weird how things change so quickly. Just a week or so ago I was laughing with Mirabel and making fun of Camilo. I felt alive for the first time in a long time. Then it was all over. With just one accidental almost kiss. I've never been good at romantic things. Or the friendly things. Or most anything at all that requires massive amounts of thought and interaction with people. 

I walked away from the window cursing under my breath. I don't think he will ever go away. I think someday he will stop sitting on the wall. And he'll stop coming to the door every day. But when I see him I know he'll wave and try to talk to me. I know that he won't be able to let go. He can't let go. I've seen how attached he gets so quickly. Making my way downstairs I called out, "Mami! Camilo's on the wall again!" 

Standing at the bottom of the steps with a tray of food in her hands she sighed, "That boy is not going to go away until you tell him what's going on." I shook my head taking the tray of food from her, "That is not going to happen. I see Abuela has been eating again."  I tried to hold the trey steady as I ran up the steps. I didn't want another lecture about how friendship is important. And how my curse can not define me for the rest of my life. But it can define me. And it does. I hurt people without trying to. And there is nothing I can do about it. Other than distancing myself. 

I pushed the door to Abuela's room open slowly, "Abuela, te traje algo de comer. (Grandma, I brought you something to eat.)" The frail woman sat up the best she could in her bed. It was sad watching her die. We all knew that's what was happening. It was just her time to go. I kept telling myself that. Over and over. It's almost her time. Her time is coming. I set the tray down beside her. I didn't want to talk this time. Talking to her made it worse. It made it real. The strain in her voice. The way her hands shook. She always talked with her hands. Sometimes she would hold them tightly in her lap just so she didn't wave them around when she spoke. 

I went to leave the room when I hear her say weakly, "Ese chico se preocupa por ti, Valentina. Viene a esta casa a buscarte. E incluso después de ser rechazado, vuelve una y otra vez. (That boy cares about you, Valentina. He comes to this house looking for you. And even after being rejected, he comes back again and again.)" My shoulders dropped. It wasn't hard to tell he cared. But I care about him too. At least I think I do. Maybe I care so much that I know what's best. And that's to leave him alone. I said quietly, "¿Qué pasa si lo lastimo? (What if I hurt him)"

Abuela's voice was ridged, "You can not hurt the boy, Valentina. No more than you have hurt him now sitting here in this house hiding from him." Sighing I walked out of the room. Was I hurting him now? What if he saw me. Milky-eyed with smoke following me. Would he run away? His family they were given gifts but mine was plagued with curses. I couldn't hide forever. I walked down the stairs and towards the back door. If I hide away forever then no good would come of anything.  Pushing open the back door I looked over at the wall where Camilo was sitting. He smiled a little saying softly, "I started to worry about you."

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I still hate authors notes but I just don't know what to write next and I want to finish this one I've just been so busy so I may not lengthen it much more then the intended 35 chapters. But I have no idea what to write next. I would love some suggestions.