"¡Usted deshonra a nuestra la familia!" A woman yelled from her apartment to the brown haired girl below. "¡Si su abuelo podría ahora verle! ¡Nada mejor entonces una puta Común!"
"¿bien él no lo querrá? ¡Él es detrás casero! ¿Y qué bueno lanzarme hacia fuera hace?" The girl yelled back.
" ¡Vaya a uno de esos muchachos que usted trae en la casa! ¡Le apreciarán!" (4) The woman threw something down it landed next to the girl.
She picked it up her brown eyes glaring at her mother thinking it would be something demeaning, but her mocha fingers curled around the rose wood rosary her abuela had given her at the age of 13 when they had left the old country.
"Recuerde que sus putas del dios incluso pueden ser perdonadas" She heard her mother say.
"I am not a whore." The girl muttered as she walked out of Spanish Harlem, her fingers growing cold, wrapped around the rosary. "I'm not a whore." She said to a random person as she passed them. Her fingers rubbed against the old beads that had been handed down to her abueula by her mama and so on and so forth.
They would be so ashamed of her. When she had left they had talked of the opportunities in America how she would find a husband. How no one would know of her father, her reputation would be fresh.
Only she went and ruined that. Second week in America and she was in a strangers bed.
Adriana walked down the streets not quite knowing where to go. Men looked at her as she passed by them, something she had grown used to in Spain. She knew she was beautiful. Proud Spanish features with thick brown hair that never behaved but most men loved. Brown eyes that seemed to show everything but really only showed what the viewer wanted to see. And a body to die for.
She made it half way down Broadway as the sun touched down. As it grew colder and started to snow she huddled into a doorway trying to gather warmth from her own body. Adriana grabbed her skirts and tried to gather them in while the wind blew around. As she closed her eyes a boot prodded her side.
"Do I know you from somewhere?" The owner of the boot asked.
"Go up to Spanish Harlem?"
"Sometimes."
"Adriana Garcia. La Puta ." She used the name most people recognized her by. "Beware for I shall corrupt you." She said spitefully.
"Its cold out."
"Is there a point to this?"
"Think ya can make it ta Brooklyn?"
"Si." she said standing up, snow fell out of her hair.
"Den come on." The boy started walking only slightly caring if she followed. "So why ain't ya with da other Spaniards?"
"My mother kicked me out."
"Why?"
"She found me with a man in my bed. One to many times."
"I've heard about you."
"What?"
"The magic of Spanish Harlem"
"My mother wishes I was in a nunnery."
"What a waste dat would be." The boy said smiling at her. "Why lock magic up when its at ya finger tips."
"Because it will not guarantee a husband of proper life. And it embarrasses the family."
"Ya on da street now. Dere ain't no family." He stopped and pulled her chin up kissing her.
"Good thing." Adriana smiled as he pulled away. "They would defiantly disown me after what I'm gunna do tonight."
The boy smiled and they continued walking.
"Whats your name?" Adriana asked, showing how her priorities.
"Most call me Spot."
"Spot Conlon?" She asked, "your famous. Every girl has a different version of what you'd be like."
"You'll know." Spot said and they traveled in silence as they reached the bridge and crossed it. Spot would sometimes stop and they would kiss, no reason only to have it happen.
They walked up the lodging house stairs to the leaders room.
"God, dat was good." Spot muttered the next morning. "An' I been wid da best. But dat was pure Magic."
"Tanks." Adriana said putting her skirt on.
"Ya should be called Magic." Spot decided putting his own shirt on.
"Tanks." Magic said adopting it with her new life.
Disclaimer: I own Magic and her fam. Disney owns Spot.
Author's Notes: Erm, this isn't right, ITS CHRISTMAS FOR ##&$*( sake, I should be writing fluff… not THIS! Grrr… I also do NOT like how it ended. Too Sudden… Ah well
Translations:
Usted deshonra a nuestra la familia: You are a disgrace to our family
Si su abuelo podría ahora verle! ¡Nada mejor entonces una puta Común: If your grandfather could see you. Your no better then a common whore..
bien él no lo querrá? ¡Él es detrás casero! ¿Y qué bueno lanzarme hacia fuera hace?" : Well I wouldn't know he's back home. What good will kicking me out do?
¡Vaya a uno de esos muchachos que usted trae en la casa! ¡Le apreciarán: Go to one of those boys you bring in the house, they will appreciate you.
Recuerde que sus putas del dios incluso pueden ser perdonadas: Remember your god, even a whore can be pardoned.
Cards on:
Christmas-
Yes I am Wiccan BUT ITS SOOO FUN!!! CAN NOT WAIT! CAN NOT WAIT!!