Prologue
The night sky was a deep dark navy blue and was scattered with stars. Like someone had taken a big blue blanket and splattered it with white plaint. The stars had always fascinated Clarissa, even though she was a small child. The way they just seem to sparkle made Clarissa feel as if she was never alone. But tonight, November 2, the stars just seem to sparkle a little more. Like all of San Angel's ancestors' spirits made them so. The little girl's small brown pigtails bounced in the wind as she ran to her three best friends, who stood on the bridge. Two little boys, one with very dark brown hair with a swirl in the front, the guitar he always carried around on his back. The other one had lighter brown hair then the first boy, and a fake paper mustache was stuck to his upper lip. The final friend, was a girl, with the same coloured hair as Clarissa, also in pigtails, but had deep brown eyes. Not like Clarissa's ocean blue ones. Each one of the friends had a fake wooden sword in hand.
"No retreat?!" The fake mustached boy asked, out loud.
"NO SURRENDER!" The other three declared.
'The Four Amigos' as they called themselves, rose their swords in they air, before running to the town, to celebrate with their families. What you may ask? Why, The Day Of The Dead, of course.