-Death and his walk-
It was a cold afternoon, my grandmother was in a hurry preparing the meals that would take the dead to her altars when night fell. My father personally did not believe that the dead would return to eat tamale with sweet bread, and drinking a glass of milk with oatmeal was physically unlikely according to current science. With everyone busy running everywhere, as usual I was in my room, contemplating the immense darkness that was increasingly extensive before my eyes, with slow steps I crossed the room to the window, with slight care I closed it so that the The frozen air from outside did not pass, the temperature seemed to drop every time, I walked back to bed, covered myself with the covers listening to the noise from the outside that gradually diminished.
There even came a time when I didn’t hear anything, as if the world around me had completely died. The passing of the air had been lost in the silence, I began not to feel the heat that my body gave off, it left me just like my breathing, turning to my side in despair I visualized a shadow watching me from a distance, out of the corner of my eye, a sonorous noise that accelerated my heart, something hit the wooden door of the closet and the shadow was lost in the gloom, I saw nothing but darkness, agitated I tried to move my hands that seemed paralyzed in place, I could not be passing, I swallowed hard in anguish, struggling against the forces that held me in bed to gain control of my body.
I heard several steps walking down the hall, approaching the stalking, they knew that I was vulnerable; Suddenly a voice whispered slightly like a peaceful air that gave me a shiver, the spasm ran through my immobilized body, it was like the song of a dark angel that has fallen from heaven to get lost in the darkness, one who rejoiced with the pain of the others, he called me, said my name.
The door began to move with a bestiality and the handle rumbled suddenly as it broke against the floor, I jumped up from the bed to flee through the window in search of help, stumbling through the darkness I felt a hand touch my shoulder, making That my heart stopped for seconds, trembling with terror I stayed there for several minutes, that said, whispered in my ear horrible and unimaginable, terrifying things that just thinking about it made me mentally collapse, how could there be so much evil in this world.
I refused, I did not want to turn back, causing him to get terribly angry and all his fury was against me, with such power he dragged me out of the room with him while I screamed in terror, I felt my skin burn, with each distance, and my jaw ached With the impact that I had received from falling hard against the floor, he brutally dragged me towards the stairs, telling me to do it, that it was the best way to purify my soul, I tried to sneak away, to hide where I was not found, I wanted to see the sun rise, listen to the sound of the birds again enjoying the clarity of the daylight hours while it could.
No, that did not happen, I felt my head fall down the slope fiercely hit with each step, feeling a line of blood run down my forehead to my chin and then get lost in the shadows while I heard his voice laugh with perversion, I screamed for help but these they got lost in the quiet of the house, no one seemed to realize that he was here to make us suffer, to put an end to all the good things he knew.
He was hurting me, but he didn’t care.
Running as I could with my head bleeding and my vision blurred, I looked at her and there she was with a gun, with a huge sinister smile, she picked it up and fired.
--- I love you, sweet dreams darling --- My mother whispered, while she picked me up, placed me in her arms and sang that lullaby that I liked so much, rocking to the rhythm of a sway, letting me lose myself, feeling life to go away with that pain, that wound was taking all the evil out of me and I liked feeling pain, feeling I was slowly dying with that stabbing pain.
I closed my eyes weakly without life with the last thought that the true fear is not in the dead who come to eat or those skulls, if not in the living that hurt us when nobody pays attention, a tear slid down my cheek losing sadly in those dark steps that were lost with my body bleeding in his arms.
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