Hector had taken what appeared to be half a dozen shots of pure mescal, if it wasn't land of the dead, he might fear worms, so he simply took one after another before going up to bed, letting go of any fear of hangover.

"Bah." He said looking at the guitar on the wall with disdain.

He took it down gripping it tightly. examining at the finely tuned strings, and felt himself shaking with anger.

"You . . . YOU! YOU CAUSED THIS!" He shouted drunkenly at the guitar. "YOU DESTROYED! MI FAMILIA!"

He through the guitar at the floor, causing it to tumble, with barely a chink in the wood.

"I'm through with you." Hector whispered going to the backroom.

He began shoveling through a bunch of junk hoping to find something to make this less on him, maybe more alcohol, but before he reached a bottle, he grabbed what appeared to be a hammer, a heavy sledgehammer.

"Hm?" He thought turning around. "Yes, maybe if i do this, i can break this curse." he muttered tears of anguish and drunken confusion.

He began dragging the hammer with him, walking back towards the guitar.

"It took a million stupid decisions," Hector said maniacally raising the hammer. "To find my first smart decision."

Hector stared at the gleaming guitar, trying to think will all his might that it was Ernesto, or maybe it even was himself.

"My choices, they've destroyed my family," Hector whispered. "So i'm done making these kinds of choices."

He then brought the hammer forward will all his might, but also choosing to let go. The hammer launched from his hands embedding itself in the wall instead of the guitar.

"I'm done," Hector said one final time going back into the other room fishing for a pen and paper. "And this will be my last choice."

Hector began scribbling for what seemed to be hours, and it wasn't a list of apologies and promises, nor was it pathetic excuses, he knew it was and had to be more then that, more then his love for Imelda, it was for her family, and only one person knew truly what was best, and that was Imelda. After what seemed to be dozens of failed attempts at writing what truly was, the perfect letter.

"Love Hector," He finished giving a finishing dot. "*Sigh* c'mere."

Hector went over to pick up the guitar, brushing off the dirt, he slipped the letter in between the metal chords, before leaving to deliver his final decision.