Gabriella Cruz
Bio
Casting Director and Writer.
Stories (4)
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Five
She walked down a crowded street wearing a short white dress, finding her way through. She took every step in her heels with integrity and purpose up to the corner and the light flashed red. Wind blew her hair in her face, blocking the view of the street. It took just a moment for her to tame her hair and when she did that's when she saw him. He was wearing jeans and a button up shirt, just like the one he had on 5 years ago. If there was a moment she could remember clearly was the last look he gave her when she last saw him. Full of love and longing, just shy of enough to hold onto as they had said their goodbyes. And just as in that moment her breath left her body and she couldn’t think. He was staring off to the side, not yet taking notice of her. His hair was darker than she remembered, faded from the sun bleached hair he once had.
By Gabriella Cruz4 years ago in Fiction
Día
The smell of marigolds filled the house every October when the Valdez family set the ofrenda for Día de los Muertos. Valeria’s mom placed her grandmother’s picture next to the other deceased family member’s portraits. Decorating the altar this year made Valeria miss her abuela and her explaining the importance of remembering their family. She knew that her grandmother was watching over her and she could feel her presence whenever she smelled the marigolds. Her mom placed an arm over her shoulder and looked at their work giving a kiss on her head.
By Gabriella Cruz5 years ago in Fiction
Luisa
“Kill her! Kill her! Kill her!” Luisa heard the cries ring out from the spectators. With one swift movement she plunged her machete deep in the girl's chest stabbing her heart. Cheers erupted, the stadium around the cage shaking in excitement. Luisa kept her eyes on her blade handle. She hated the look they made when they died, the way the light left them gave her nightmares. Close to the end of the blade she saw silver catch the light. It was a heart-shaped locket on a long chain. Just this once, she thought. She grabbed onto it and started to pull it off when the girl grabbed her hand, Luisa looked up startled thinking she was dead. The girl started to mouth a word or a name. ‘Cal Ca” it was like a wordless cry as the girl drowned in her own blood, red spilling from her mouth. Her hand went limp freeing Luisa from the momentary spell. She got her wits back shaking her head and pulled the necklace from her. She gutted the machete free and raised it in the air. “100!” She shouted.
By Gabriella Cruz5 years ago in Fiction
One of a Kind
I like the way it starts. It pops up as an image in my head, then a flood of possibilities and patterns circulate. I think of the child I am making a quilt for and what their future holds. I imagine their parents holding them in a one of a kind blanket. A piece that they will keep with them for years as a token of their kid’s childhood.
By Gabriella Cruz5 years ago in Families
