ᵘⁿᵗⁱᵗˡᵉᵈ story ♡︎ chapter ᵗʰʳᵉᵉ I open the front door of our apartment And walk through the door. I quickly walk over to the sink, Grab a vase and fill it with water, And put the flower inside. I smile. “There you go.” Ever since I was a little girl, I have always had a soft spot for plants, Roses especially. I turn back to look at Max, Who is leaning against the door On his phone Texting his Friend. “Where’s mom and dad?” I ask. He shrugs. “Probably off spoiling you, Yknow? Getting you Cake and Cupcakes and Presents you never asked for..” I sigh. Typical. “I never asked for any of it.” I make my way towards my room, carrying the vase That contains the flower In my hands. “Just wanted you to know. Also, you want to watch a movie?” He smiles a bit. “Is that another birthday wish?” “No,” I say. “I just don’t want to be by Myself. And besides, I want to watch that one Movie you find “interesting”” xxxxxxxxxxxx Later, after the movie is done, My parents finally come home. And, as predicted, They brought with them Cake and Cupcakes and Presents I never asked for. But nothing much. And since nothing is happening at the moment, I should tell you a bit more about myself NAME: Gabriela Romero AGE: 12 BIRTHDAY: April 11 GENDER: Female RACE: Mexican-American HAIR COLOR: dark brown HAIR TYPE: short and wavy EYE COLOR: brown GLASSES?: no FRECKLES?: a little WHAT I LIKE: I’m a big fan of reading and writing, Watching movies,Drawing, And eating and sleeping. I also like taking care of plants before All their color is drained from their small plant life. WHAT I DISLIKE: I am not a fan of scary/creepy things, spiders, being by myself and I DEFINITELY DO NOT LIKE: being the spoiled one. Max grew up with my parents when they never had money for My brother. If he needed new clothes, “So be it” is all they said. He had to earn money by cleaning dogs, And you may laugh, I laughed when he told me this, But he worked a total of 54 hours a week. And he made $104 dollars a week. Which, for him, Was enough to keep him full for One week And three days. That is why when my parents spoil me, I always tell them To give it to Max. “It’s OK, mamá.” I say. “You can give the chocolates to Max.” She smiles at me. “Ay, mijita. You’re so Nice to your brother. What did we ever do To deserve a mija like you?” She exaggerates on the word ever and deserve. I ignore her. I grab the chocolates and hand them to Max. “Here,” I say. “If you are still hungry After those chocolates, Tell me. I can make you food.”
