Never - Marian Vazquez (fiction book recommendations TXT) 📗

He was so special to me; the only problem was that I wasn’t special enough for him. He probably laughed at the fact that I actually believed he loved me. I forgive him. I’ll just never forget. Forget how much he hurt me. But how was I supposed to know? He had blindfolded me into thinking that what we had was love. I never could escape him. I tried but always ended up giving in. I curse myself for being so stupid. He had the power to make me crawl for him. I was like a doll he played with and in the end he put me back in the shelf, broken and shattered. It’s true, every rumor was true. But before I say more, I suppose I must tell you this is my story. The story of how I died.
My name is, or was I suppose, Victoria Herrera. I was 15 when I was murdered on January 11, 2008. Yeah, my ethnicity was Latina, so I know what you must have been thinking, that I ran away with some guy. Well you’re half right. Yes, my murderer was the guy that I LOVED. Is it coming together yet? I guess not. So here it goes. The beginning of my end.

It was September 11, 2007 and I was on my way to school. Tired, head throbbing, buzzing. Not a good day for school! I had only stayed up late because I just couldn’t sleep. But then again, I never was really able to. How would I describe myself? I was 4 foot 11 inches, caramel skin, black eyes, long hair that reached my hips, I wasn’t thin, I was curvy like a coke bottle so I guess you get the point. I wasn’t much of a girly girl. It didn’t matter to me how I looked, guys still never even acknowledge my existence. But anyways, I got to school, went to my locker, and even managed to get to my class just in time. I was never late. I was what most people consider a good girl. Always got straight A’s. My first class that dat was U.S. history with Ms. Botte and honestly I loved this class! Ms. Botte was awesome too. She was like an aunt to me.

“Class we have a new student, would you please introduce yourself to the class?”
And that’s when I saw him, looking like a thug, dressed in a red shirt, black dickies, chucks for shoes, and his hair looked like a jungle of black curls. I was left speechless, blushing.
“Uh, sure. My name is Mario Fauli, I’m 16 and I’m Maori,” he said with an amazing soft voice. “Thank you. You may take a seat next to Ms. Victoria over there.”
Omagosh!!! Did she really tell this fine vato to come sit by me?! I thought.
“Hey waz up mizz Victoreea?” Mario asked.
“Uh. Um. I... I… Nothing just you know, reading about Buddhism,” I replied, thinking to myself that I just screwed any little bit of chance I had at trying to get to know him.

“That’z wazz up.”
“Yeah”
“So why you sit by yo self?”
“Well, I usually don’t talk much. I mean I don’t like to get distracted in class,” I replied sounding like such a nerd.
“Oh so talkin to me ryt now muz be killin you ryt now.”
“No. Actually I sort of like to talk to someone once in a while.”
“I like your name Vic-to-ree-ah. Sounds like the name of a princess.”
Did he just call me a princess?! I thought to myself.
“Well thank you Mario. Your name is pretty awesome too. But I have a question.”
“You can ask me anything lil mama.”
*Blush* “If you’re Maori, then why is your name Mario and not something traditional?”
“Oh daz easy. How is the word Maori spelled?”
“Um M-A-O-R-I, why?”
“Well juz move the O to the end and voila! Daz how I got my name.”

“That’s awesome!”
And so throughout class Mario and I got to know each other a little more, therefore becoming friends.
A week later Mario and I had gone from friends to lovers. And me, well I actually started caring about the way I looked. I started wearing makeup and actually doing my hair. It seemed to not only shock my friends, but also my mom.
"Why do you all of the sudden care how you look? Is it because of that Mario boy?"
"Yes mom, it's because of him. I want to look pretty for him."
"He must really be special."
"He really is!"
"Well we must get going if you don't want to be late for school."

Once I arrived at school I immediately ran towards him, the guy I was starting to fall in love with... It sounds so silly. But I know it's possible.
“Hey babe, how are you?” Mario asked as I reached him arms wide open inviting me in.
“I’m fine! Just happy to see you” I replied.
We haven’t been an “item” for a long time, yet I feel like I’m in love with him. But what if he isn’t?
“Mario, can I ask you something?”
“Not if it’s something bad.”
“Don’t worry, it’s something very good, um… are you in love with me?”
“Well, I know im not supposed to be, but to be honest, YES I AM!!!!!!!!!!”
When I heard those words come out of his mouth, my heart started beating really fast; tears rolled down my cheeks out of joy. I never thought he could really be in love with me.

Publication Date: 12-27-2010

All Rights Reserved

Dedication:
This book is dedicated to the two greatest women in my life, my mother and grandma.