The air was thick with fog and barely anything was visible. Amidst the sea of tombs, what seemed to be a palace stood ambiguously against the grey air. As I stepped forward I stumbled upon withering roses, abandoned by mortals to their loved ones lingering in the afterlife. Coming face to face with the strange monument, a button shone orange and a startling DING responded as I pressed on it. Before me opened the doors an elevator, and in venomously red paint, the words "Pasaje a la muerte" were dripping from the walls. Dripping was a sign of freshness and although I was oblivious to what the words meant, I stepped in, curious as to what lied ahead. The doors creaked closed and I felt myself descending into darkness. DING.

Everything was pitch black, but as I stepped out I could hear a distant chanting. Following the noise, I was lead to a dim light emitted from the other side of twin doors at the end of a hallway. “Un nuevo espiritud,” they said. Over and over. New spirit? I wasn’t sure what they kept repeating, but as soon as I knocked, every noise shut down and they were dangerously silent. The latches unlocked and I stood before 20 cherubic ghostly faces, with the exception of an elderly man. There were desks and chairs facing a blackboard with the words “Casa del demonio” painted on with chalk. I may not know what language it was but at sight of “demon” I felt a shiver run through my body and fear was consuming my thoughts. A child tugged at the hem of my floral skirt, pulling me towards the bearded old man. His head hung low, his beard reached his chest, but as he looked up, his red eyes hypnotized me and his wrinkles had disappeared along with the innocence I once saw in his old age, he was death in the flesh.

Before I knew it, I was standing in my mother’s kitchen watching her prepare dinner. How did I get here? Was I sleep walking?

“Mom. Was I here the whole time?” She continued humming and sprinkling sazon on the chicken she had just washed. She sometimes becomes so consumed with cooking that she never pays attention to anything around her, so I stepped into the living room where my brother played video games- always.

“Hey s-------.” I greeted him and tried smacking him across the head; however, my hand seemed to go through his skull. He paused his game and held his head with a certain agony.

“Mom, I have a migraine again.” my brother yelled.

“Its from those stupid video games you play all day, come get an advil.” She advised indifferently, but concern rose in her face when she asked, “Hey has your sister texted you or anything?”

“Nah mom, she left a couple of hours ago. Haven’t heard from her.” he replied. Mom let out a sigh and continued turning the rice.

“Mom! I’m right here! I’ve been here the whole time! Can’t you see? Can’t you see me?”





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