ACTING STRANGE.

     “Can you believe those guys? Men! There’re all the same. How could they just kick me out like that? And Nate… that idiot abandoned me for a few dollar bills and a new set of strings.”

    Though not completely annoyed with her best friend’s decision to still perform at the club, since she would have done the same…. Marcel rambled on talking to herself as she aimlessly walked along the noisy roadways bustling with the sounds of teenagers prancing off to their accustomed nightlife of either heading to the movies, bar or merely sneaking out of their houses just for the fun of it.

     “He could have at least let me barrow his car, this place is freaking cold….” She folded her hands seeking warmth from her exposed arms, legs slightly buckling from the sudden chills drifting through the air, wondering why she had chosen to wear a sleeveless crop top and skin tight shorts tonight of all the nights, barely realizing that the sky had already turned dark and gloomy.

    “Crap! It’s already six-thirty…” She paused glancing down at the barely functioning watch on her wrist, subconsciously thinking of what her mother had said earlier, yet quickly shaking her head in denial…

     “Why am I even worried? There’s no such thing as day of the dead…. yeah right, Peter Pak my ass! That just sounds like some childish cartoon… or was that Peter Pan? Anyways, what difference does it make…? He’s gone… my brother is gone.” A flash of bitterness and pain evident in her sarcastic words.

    Battling a mindful of confliction, Marcel was in no rush to get home… in any case she was already late.

    Sometime later, she finally managed to slowly find her way back into the familiar neighborhood, taking heavy steps closer to the old wooden house; for some strange reason her heart instinctively began pounding like a crazy drummer high on drugs.

    “Get a hold of yourself; it’s just your emotions playing tricks on you because of those stupid superstitions and besides it was a long walk, my heart must be racing from the pressure… I… I really need to exercise more often.” She unconvincingly mumbled feeling a sense of anxiety consuming her stiffened limbs.

    The atmosphere surrounding her every move suddenly felt ominous, the sound of the trees rustling, the vague echoing of the wind howling in the distance had all seemed to have been magnified in her ears…. demanding a sense of awareness.

 

     If it had been any other night, Marcel would have no doubt carelessly barged up the stairs completely ignoring whatever was going on around her, but not tonight… not when deep inside her soul, the thin line between reality and hidden fears were quickly vanishing. No matter what, it was truly hard for her to escape her previous beliefs.

    It was said that as the sun went down casting a cloud of darkness over the land, those bound to the world of the dead, on this day, would be set free to roam among the fleshly souls and if the living had not paid homage to the shadow dweller by remaining indoors while they were allowed to drift through the air… their life the spirit will seek… 

   

     ‘There’s no such thing as being too careful, right?’ She reasoned with herself while knocking on the doors for the woman on the other side to let her in, yet almost instantly turning her back against the wooden frame, waiting to take baby steps retreating into the house. If the stories were true, then walking in ahead would be seen as her leading the way for a welcomed guest, but facing whatever was other there would be a silent goodbye.

     “Ahem! Mo… Mom? I’m home…” She cleared her throat hesitantly calling out, thinking her mother might be too afraid of opening up for some stranger at this time of the night. However, after several minutes there was still no response.

    “Okay, I know I was wrong and I’m late but I promise I won’t let anything follow me in, look… see? I’m moon walking my way in. Can’t you just open the doors?” Marcel continued to plead trying to cover over the hint of uneasiness in her voice.

       This time though instead of silence, the sound of the bolts unlocking and the doors slowly creaking opening was just enough for her to hear. Thankful that the woman was willing to let her in, Marcel did as promised; stepping in with her back against the entrance.

     “Thanks mom!” She breathe a sigh of relief closing the door in front of her while clutching onto her chest finally calming her nervous heart, but frowned in confusion as she shifted her head from left to right unable to find a trace of the fragile woman.

    “Hey! Where did you go? Mom?” Marcel’s eyes kept scanning the small living space, cautiously peeking in several directions until her eyes finally caught a glimpse of Ruby busying herself with a few dishes in the dimly lit kitchen.

    “Mom didn’t you hear me calling? You nearly scared me half to death and why is it so dark in here? Sheesh, what if you cut your fingers off? I can hardly see a thing in here.” The girl walked over clicking the switch, feeling both annoyed and at ease seeing her mother observed in her own world of cooking.

   “Oh Marcel! Thank God you’re finally here, now hurry up and change into something more presentable, you know how much Mike hates having you dressed like that.” Ruby excitedly motioned her daughter out of the cooking area and towards the stairs.

   “Mike? Oh yes of course, the offerings… I thought you would be done by now…. and you would be mad at me…” The girl halted her steps, refusing to move an inch as she stared worriedly at her mother’s strange behavior.

     “If you’re not ready by the time the table is set your dad will start shouting, Mike’s going to get angry and then I’ll be mad if dinner is ruined, so get going missy.” The woman continued uttering clear yet confusing words as she warningly pointing the metal pot spoon in her hands, urging the girl to listen.

     Although Marcel was indeed puzzled, she nonetheless did as was told, walking up the narrow wooden steps leading to her room, trying to understand what was happening…

    “Why did mom act so surprise to see me, didn’t she hear me calling and opened the door? And I get that she has to prepare a meal offering to honor Mike…. But why would she say dad will start yelling? Did they allow him to come out of the hospital just to observe the ritual tonight? Hmm… I never knew they could actually do such a thing.” She questioned herself trying to find a logical explanation.

        Despite everything, she still went along grabbing a clean set of clothes, thinking it would be best to wear something black given the special circumstances of mourning the precious deceased soul.

     Within ten minutes the girl was practically ready, standing facing her wardrobe mirrors, yet her mind was completely out of focus with a familiar feeling overshadowing her thoughts.

    “Is this supposed to happen? Are we supposed to feel their presence?” Marcel whispered lowly, almost certain that the strange air she felt earlier as she approached her home and the trailing chills she was suddenly feeling once again, were all too familiar… it was a sense of lost, yet a feeling of existence… he was there… but yet he wasn’t…

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