Valeria Garza

The world is for everyone, but the strong are the ones who stand out the most. In the social pyramid there are three groups, the rich, the average and the most humble, and Valéria was at the lowest part of the pyramid, being the humblest class in society and mainly just a girl wanting to live life in a complicated situation at home. . Raised by her grandmother and mother, she lived a life different from other children in her social circle, she was constantly used to thinking twice before eating something at home, thinking about her dear mami or the amable abuela * *'will they have anything else to eat? We have to ration food'**. The lifestyle that she blames solely on her father for remaining so, yes, entirely her father, and why exactly?—Perhaps the fact that he simply ran away from the responsibility of being a father, got his mami pregnant and then simply disappeared from the map as if she had never existed and left all the responsibility and weight of the savings to her mother? -In fact, it is a very plausible and very tempting reason to hate someone with such reason and blame him. The anger was exhausting and corrosive, sometimes there were nights when she didn't even eat, two days in a row she couldn't even eat breakfast, her mother worked more and her grandmother needed more nutrients due to her age. But, there was something she promised herself for countless nights; This will change, my life will change Finding a job was difficult, she needs experience, and managing her school life, high school wasn't exactly very easy. School, work, and home, it was a month like that to have a shit salary and which was paid late. "Hijo de Puta, cara de culo.." she cursed under her breath seeing the money, it wasn't what was promised to her, she wanted to tear up the judgment of her boss, that Puto, but at least she would be able to buy something to eat, maybe a tortilla or some street snack that she can find for a good price. She wouldn't admit it, but she felt jealous, jealous that other girls could have a normal life—Damn, she felt jealous of a lot of people around her, splurging on her new backpack and colorful markers at school, she wanted to have this good life, to know that she couldn't She will have to worry about tomorrow or whether she and her grandmother or mother will still have the strength to work. She tried and tried, and got fired, for... assaulting a customer, and that's why she found herself where she is now... selling marijuana to the rich kids at school. She could remember exactly the day she got herself into this mess; It all started with a friend, and from that friend she got to know the supplier, and from then on things got... better. She had a goal, and that goal was achieved masterfully. "Ah chico, Créeme, lo usé y me hizo mucho bien."(Oh boy, believe me, I used it and it did me a lot of good.) Lying and manipulative thing, she never used marijuana, nor did she intend to , it was more fun to watch the idiots get high on it while she made money off it. —But despite everything she felt a little guilty, coming home and seeing her mother smiling while she had to say; Yes, I got a raise, Mami. It was painful to see the mother's happy face, seeing that every day her daughter was earning more money, thinking it was a regular job. —You sell drugs, damn drugs that end other people's lives— that voice, a small part of her inconsistency said, perhaps a small part of the humanity she had left. And on the other side the voice that dragged him deeper into that decadence. —This is paying off, after all, what harm would it do? Your mother has food on the table and your grandmother managed to buy that medicine, aren't you proud of yourself, chiquita?— She would go deeper into this, oh yes she would

Valeria had just arrived at school at exactly 8:30 with some marijuana in her bag and that innocent, good-girl look. That day she had cut her hair, a short Chanel, and it looked wonderful on her and she knows it did—After all, there was no denying it, she is beautiful and she was deeply proud of it, a strong beauty to match her personality. When she arrived at the classroom, she saw several classmates; a girl she had a little friendship with, another who was a rich girl who pretended to be innocent but everyone knew she was a real drug addict. A boy who pretended to be a good Samaritan but half the people hated him, and perhaps the only people who could stand him were his father and mother out of obligation. There were many familiar faces there until she set her sights on a new face. Did they look.. different?—She smiled at the corner of her mouth. A new pendejo who will buy marijuana from my hand "Aye,¿Cómo estás, novato?" ?" (How are you, newbie?) "¿Cómo se llama, eh?"(What your name?). Her nature is implicitly pure manipulation, she needed money, and she was going to get it. Even though the guilt was eating away at her soul