Tears at the Altar

I woke from what felt like a long restless sleep. Jolted awake from the nightmare. It’s the same nightmare every time. Running down an alleyway, my father chasing me. I trip, then I always wake up. Coming too, I realize I passed out in the graveyard at mi Abuelito's grave. My head pounded from one to many shots of tequila but time was of the essence. I had to make it to my parents before dinner. There was no time to waste since it was clearly afternoon and I was late. With no car, I needed to make the walk back to town.

Laying there, giving up on trying to recall the events that led me here, I decided it was time for me to get on my way. The streets were going to get crowded soon with people out celebrating the holiday. My play was to make it there unnoticed. Since the celebrations started last night, there was a good chance I could make it most of the way there without drawing too much attention.

The road was freshly paved. I didn’t remember it. The last time I went to the graveyard was for mi Abuelito’s funeral. It was a big upgrade from then when it was still dirt. A dirt road is more likely to create dust clouds, which was never pleasant to walk through. Not that you would feel it, but you were constantly covered in it. Recognizing that everyone is going to know I never went home last night, the last thing I want is to arrive dirty as well.

As my walk ends and I approach my home town, the people start to come out to start the celebration. Children were laying paths of marigold petals in the streets. Abuelita’s cooking the favorite foods for their loved ones. The jubilee of the holiday filled the town. It was almost time for dinner. I needed to hurry. My head really hurt and I desperately needed water to cure my self-induced dehydration.

I took a shortcut through the town square. Everyone was caught up in the aura that Dia de Los Muertos brought to the town. The festival was beginning and crowds were starting to gather. Smiles radiated through calacas as music played and people danced. I cut through the crowd, back out to the street. Almost home.

As I walked down the street, a familiar alley caught my eye. So much so that I had to backtrack to look down it again. As I stood there looking down the alley from my dream nausea hit me and I vomited. Flashbacks from the night before came to me.

Memories flood in as I start to sob. I remember every detail. Every moment. All materializing as I relive them there in the alley.

I sprinted home.

A heaviness lingered as I entered the house. It hit me like a brick wall. This was not an easily celebrated day here. Nor should it be.

I go into the living room, where my family sets the ofrenda every year. There she is, mi Madre, somber and silent in the candlelight. There is my picture at the center of the altar. Surrounded by arepas and Oreos. Jose, my childhood stuffed dog that I brought everywhere with me. The acceptance letter to the university. I worked so hard to get in. It was my dream to go to college and I did it.

I look at mi Madre. She has aged so much. Time was not her friend.

Then he walks in.

I am fueled with rage. It boils inside me to the point that it gets caught in my throat and I can't even scream. All the good memories hit me as I relived the horrible night. The night that he killed me.

He had told me that day I had to drop out of school. I was devastated. Everything that I worked for. Studying late nights. Working full time while in high school. All the money I saved and scholarships I had received. Taken from me because of his mistakes. His bad choice. Getting caught up with the wrong people. I had to pay his debt.

I was so upset I went out and got wrecked. Shot after shot of anything that would take me away from the pain and anger I felt.

I remember so clearly now. I was stumbling home as the world blurred and spun around me. I couldn’t hold my liquor and fell to the ground as I expelled the spirits I drank to escape. He approached me. But instead of holding my hair or lifting me out of the mess he rolled me on my back and covered my nose and mouth as I got sick. Too drunk to fight I lay helpless as I choke to death on my own vomit. Filled with terror and dread, the last glimmer of life left my body.

She had no clue. She had no clue that he killed me. She had no clue that he was in debt over his head. Unknowing of the life insurance I had gotten before I left for school.

I screamed and charged him as he stood in the doorway. But it didn't matter. I ran right through him. I was dead. Caught in this loop of terror forever. I fell to my knees and wailed out in frustration and helplessness that consumed me.

He hugged her and kissed her forehead as she wept.

My sobs fell on deaf ears. No one can hear your scream when you are dead.