First things first. A thank you to everyone that review, followed and favoured my story. So, unlike the previous chapter, this one focuses on Miguel. Initially I thought I'd just continued with the main story, but I decided that it was best in introduce Miguel sooner rather than later, as people would likely be asking about him.
Also, to those that reviewed.
Light: Thank you. I'm glad you enjoyed the first chapter
katmar1994: Well first they'll have dinner and see where they go from there
Right, now on with the story.
Joy. Pure, unrestrained joy
There really was no other word to describe it. Joy was what Miguel Rivera felt course through body whenever he played music. Every part his body extended this joy. The brimming of words rolling off his tongue, the bristle of the guitar strings against the skin on his fingertips, the beating of his heart as it rose with the rhythm of the music. Nothing made him feel more alive. Which was about as ironic as a situation could get, for the simple fact that Miguel Rivera was dead.
He didn't have a throat. He didn't have skin on his fingers. And he mostly definitely didn't have a beating heart. He was a body without skin, fat, muscles, nerves or organs. All he was now, was the literally, walking, talking, and singing, skeleton of a 12-year-old boy, named Miguel Rivera. He was nothing whatsoever but bones, along with the red hoodie on his back, his blue jean, Chukka boots, and most distinguishably, the guitar in his arms that he was currently playing.
Perched on top of a small box, at the corner of a busy street, underneath an old-fashioned lamppost, Miguel strummed the strings of his guitar with his skinless fingers, serenading the passing crowd of fellow living skeletons, who walked along the pavement in front of him. Some of them continued on without stopping to listen, while others took a moment to appreciate the sound of Miguel's soft, yet impeccably melodious singing voice.
"Well everyone knows Juanita. Her eyes each a different colour. Her teeth stick out and her chin goes in. And her knuckles, they drag on the floor"
Even to this day, Miguel still hadn't learned the real words to this song. And he couldn't help but feel that he was drawing a number of strange glances from some of skeletons as they passed him by while he sang the words. But he didn't really care. For him, being able to sing at all was still a blessing that he was thankful for. Of course, he still felt like he needed to get a necessity out of it.
Laid out on the ground in front of the box Miguel stood on, was a small, rusty old coffee can, that made an occasionally rattle each time one of the undead pedestrians would feel gracious and drop something into it. At the clatter of one such token being dropped in by a kindly looking skeleton lady, Miguel's loyal canine companion, Dante creeped over to the can and sniffed it curiously, perking up his ears and wagging his tail in excitement
If Miguel wasn't a typical boy, then Dante certainly wasn't a typical dog. Aside from his own personality flaws and general lack of intelligence, Dante was what was called an Alebrije. A creature of myth, that acted as a spirit guide for souls of the dead. Of course, even as far as spirits guides went, Dante was still an odd ball. Unlike other Alebrije that could take the forms of all of manner of creatures, Dante still looked like a plain old dog. The only difference being was his illuminous and multi-coloured coat of skin. Each appendage on his body, from his ears to legs, ranged from pink to yellow, with decorative markings that glowed as bright fireworks. The other unique feature about him, was a set of wings on his back, though they were so disproportionately tiny compared to his body, it didn't seem possible that they could lift him off the ground
Dante picked the can up in his mouth and eagerly brought it over to Miguel, who abruptly stopped singing when he noticed Dante bringing him the can. Stepping off his box, Miguel took the can from Dante and rewarded him with grateful rub on the head. He shook the can around a few times and stuck his hand inside, picking up a fistful what they had collected.
"Looks like a good take in today, boy" Miguel said, depositing the coins back into the can. "Now let's go find out how much it'll be worth"
Slinging the guitar over his shoulder, Miguel and Dante left their street corner and began their trek through the endless sea of the walking undead that lay out before them.
It had been almost one year ago, on Dia de los Muertos, that Miguel had been cursed for stealing his great-great-grandfather's guitar. One year since he had travelled to the Land of the Dead to receive a blessing from his family so that he could undo the curse. And one year since he had lost his chance to return home.
When he realised that he would never return to the Land of the Living, the feelings that he experienced, where hard to put into words. The shock, the horror, the unfairness. The unrelenting of reality of his future laid out in front of him.
After hearing stories from other people who had passed on, his reaction wasn't uncommon. Like everyone else, he had to accept the fact he was dead. The first few months were the hardest for him as he struggled to come to terms with his new life, or rather his death. Or was it both? Even now, still felt unreal to him. It was like he had fallen into a deep sleep and was caught in an eternal dream, but then again, maybe that was what death was supposed to feel like?
Of course, in terms of an afterlife, the Land of the Dead really wasn't that bad. Far from it fact. For the most part, it was a lot like still being alive.
Throughout the busy district, skeletons walked the streets and browsed the shops, just as they done in their own lifetimes. They behaved almost exactly like regular people did. Talking, moving, working, laughing, arguing, socialising, sleeping. Some even still eating and drinking. They appeared so casual, you would swear they didn't even know they were dead. It so many ways, this world was still like the Land of the Living. The only difference was that everyone just seemed that little bit happier here.
Dante trailing behind him, Miguel walked along the stone pavement of the street, which were lined with an assortment of all kinds of buildings and shops, hands in his pocket and his guitar slung along his back, passing numerous other skeletons. No one really paid him any mind. He was no different than the rest of them now. Just another soul taking his place as a resident in the last great destination
Just as they were passing by the window of a nearby bakery, Miguel slowly came to a halt and took a moment to examine his face in the glass. It had been a while since he had seen his own reflection. Pulling down his hood, he grimaced slightly. Even now it was still hard to get used to.
At best, he was reminded of the face paint he wore when he trying to disguise himself when he first arrived. Only now the fat of his skin was gone, making his face more gaunt-like. He's nose was also gone, leaving nothing but a black triangle in the centre of his face. He kept his hair, though he soon found out he could remove it if he wanted, making more of wig. His ears were also gone, the sides of head now flat and smooth as the skull that had been underneath his entire life
He raised his bony hand up to touch his right cheek, or rather, where his cheek used to be. Now it was nothing but a hollow point that ran along his jaw up to his cheek bones that jutted in a pointed manner. Miguel sighed, staring at his hollowed face with a kind of longing. He never realised how much he missed his dimple.
He tapped at the black triangle in the centre of his face that was once his whole nose. The weirdest part was, despite not having a nose, ears or a tongue, he could still smell, hear, taste and touch even though he was literally nothing but bones.
It was at that moment, Dante jumped up beside Miguel and put his paws on the window. He then proceeded to mush his entire face into the glass panel, his tongue smearing the window with his saliva as he seemed think he could actually reach some of the pastry visible on the other side of the glass. Miguel was quickly brought out of his reprieve, as he couldn't help but chuckle at Dante's antics.
"Hey, hey!" yelled the shopkeeper, poking his head out of the front door of his building. "Get away from that you!"
Knowing all too well to expect Dante to cause him some trouble, Miguel was quick to respond as he and Dante darted down the street, running away from the angry clerk who started to give chase. Reaching edge of an overhanging bridge, Miguel hopped over the railing and landed on the titled rooftop below it. Miguel then slide down the rooftop and climbed down a street sign handing on the side of the building, before jumping off and landing firmly on a solid street once again. A moment later Dante's body smacked into the ground beside Miguel, his wings still fluttering, apparently not having worked in this particular instance. He soon got back to his feet, uninjured and full of enthusiasm as always.
Miguel glanced up to the street they had just left, which that ran directly adjacent to one they were on now. Looking around, this street appeared to be virtually identical as the one above it as well.
Even after months of traversing this world, it still felt like an endless maze. It had taken nearly this long for Miguel just to get a general sense of direction. Everything in this word was almost constantly changing, expanding and re-arranging, as the more souls would arrive daily. If someone needed a new home, they just built on top of the old ones, like a tower of bricks. When new roads were needed, they just seemed to materialise by themselves between the towers of buildings. Structures of all shapes, sizes and distortions that couldn't possibly exist in the real world.
Miguel was never really sure if there were actual skeleton workers that did all this, or if it just happened on its own. The Land of the Dead seemed to be provide only what they needed, but nothing more than that. After all, nobody here was going anywhere
"Come on, boy" Miguel said, turning left and heading down a steep slope. "It's not much further"
After walking for another ten minutes, Miguel and Dante finally arrived at the destination; the entrance of a large market area, that was lined up with vegetable, fruits and other food stalls, underneath a rooftop of tarps. Miguel and Dante walked along the narrow and winding gaps between the stalls, following a familiar path they had taken before. Of course, Miguel wasn't able to make it more than two feet at any given time without having to drag Dante away from any that looked even remotely edible to him.
Eventually they spotted what they were looking for. Near the back of the market place, was a fruit stand that appeared to be operating out of the entrance to small house behind it. The stand had three benches, lined with boxes filled with a multitude of different fruits. Behind the main stall, was a large skeleton, wearing an oversized apron and some oddly baggy clothing. Miguel always had the impression that he must have been a lot heavier when he was alive. But that was yet another pleasant surprise about being skeletons. No more weight problem.
"Okay, time to get into character boy" he whispered to Dante, who chopped his lips in response.
Loosening up his shoulders, Miguel hunched his back slightly and put as pitiful face he could make, as he shuffled his feet toward the fruit stand. On cue, Dante lowered his ears and hanged his head down low, walking with a limb in his step and whine.
Together, they approached the stall, the vendor still too busy categorising some of his fruit to notice them.
"S-s-senor?" Miguel choked out, in a soft and small voice. "May I please have some tomatillos?"
The vendor glanced up at Miguel with a derisive scowl, not the least moved by his dishevelled appearance.
"Does this look a buffet?" he said coldly. He pulled out a knife from the inside of his apron and started to peal one of his apples. "Come back when you got some money, eh?"
"I-I-I have some m-money right here, Senor" Miguel said, shivering, his voice on the edge of breaking. With shaking hands, he held out the coffee can to the man, with hope and desperation in his eyes. "Please, t-take a look"
"I don't need your trinkets" the man scoffed. "I got real customers to take care, so get out of here before I call somebody"
"I know don't have much, but please it must be worth something. It's for my Alebrije Dante". Miguel gestured to Dante, who let a heart wrenching whining sound, his eyes like dinner plates.
"How about you and your mutt go eat out of the garbage, huh?" the vendor snapped, waggling his knife at Miguel, his patience clearly running thin.
"Please, Senor" Miguel sniffled, in a very pathetic manner. "Please, just let me have something, anything. I'm wasting away". Miguel pulled up his hoodie and shirt, revealing his spine and rib cage. "I'm nothing but bone"
The vendor stabbed his knife down into the wooden bench and glaring dangerous at Miguel, his lips curled up into a snarl. He looked to be on the verge of yelling, when, out of nowhere, he dropped his grim exterior and let out a robust laugh, slamming his hand down on the fruit stand.
"That the best you can do?" he chortled, unable to contain himself any longer. "Oh! Nothing! Nothing but bone!"
The performance now over, Miguel straightened up again and laughed along with the vendor skeleton. Dante dropped his puppy dog expression and went back to sticking his tongue out with enthusiasm
"Hola, Senor Hernandez" Miguel greeted casually
"Hola, Ricardo" Hernandez greeted back to Miguel. "I think the routine is getting better. Reminds of the days when I was alive, and I turned away real starving children"
Hernandez laughed again, caught up in his reminisces, but his grin soon faded, when he noticed Miguel giving him a questionable look.
"Uh, I'm mean, they weren't really starving" he said quickly. "Probably little malnourished, but I'm sure someone feed them…eventually and, uh….er…do you have something to buy or not?!"
Miguel chuckled as Hernández flustered expression quickly turned to genuine frustration. "Si, Senor Hernandez. Here". No more foreplay, Miguel handed the coffee can over to Hernandez, who eyed the contents with interest before emptying them out on the stall.
"Huh, let's see" he said, shifting through the assortment of coins with his index finger. "Two 12th century Maravedi coins. About six peseta worth's of centimos, a couple of Real de a Ocho. Four silver escudos. I don't even know what this one is". He held up a small gold coin with a square hole in the middle of it and lined markings along the sides.
"And this one is-hey, hey!" Hernandez glanced from his counting and noticed Dante hungrily salivating over some fresh mangos. Miguel quickly put his arms around Dante's neck to restrain, giving Hernandez a nervous smile.
"He licks it, you buy it" Hernandez warned. He returned to appraisal of the coin collection, until finally he appeared to have come a conclusion to its valuation.
"All in all," he said, in a tone that gave the impression of being heavily unimpressed. "I'd say they earn you about…...three pears"
"What?" Miguel said, with mock indignation, having fully expecting Hernandez to try and haggle him out of a good deal. "Oh, come on, that's at least five pears, three tomatillos and two carambolas"
"Hey, my stall, my rules, kid" Hernandez said, with a bloated sense of ego to his words. "You don't like it, hustle somebody else"
"I would but nobody else around here sells any fresh carambolas but you"
"Well, bad news" Hernandez said, shrugging. "I happen to be fresh out of carambola today"
Miguel's smile vanished as soon as he heard this. "You don't have any at all?" he said, deflating.
"Sorry, kid" he said, though not totally unsympathetic. "Supply and demand"
Miguel grunted in frustration and turned his back to Hernandez, leaning up against the stall. This turn of events was clearly not how he wanted things to go. Hernandez appeared to regret having disappointed him.
"Hey, look how about I give you some tomatillos. On the house" he added, it in an attempt to cheer Miguel up, though it seemed like the mere sound of his words tasted wrong from inside his mouth.
"Thought this wasn't a buffet?" Miguel replied, clearly uninterested, glancing back at Hernandez
"Come on, I need to sell something today!"
"Actually, as a matter of fact, you don't"
Hernandez rolled his eyes as his wife emerged from the entrance of the house behind their stall, carrying a large crate of fruit in her arms.
"Hola, Ricardo" she said pleasantly to Miguel.
"Hola" Miguel replied back, half-heartedly.
"You know don't we don't really need money anymore" Mrs Hernandez said to her husband. She picked up one of the old coins to emphasis her point. "Money is dead, just like everything else here"
"Who ever heard of a running a business without having to make money?" Hernandez said irritably. "What a joke"
"Well, I think it' wonderful" Mrs Hernandez said, setting down the crate she was carrying, beginning to take out the fruits and placing them in their respective baskets. "We can just focus on what we love doing, without having to worry about earning a living anymore". Mrs Hernandez paused while Miguel and her husband stared at her. She rolled her eyes in exasperation.
"Yes, I know. I said. Make all the puns you like" she said, giving an airy wave of her hand.
"I spent my whole life selling fruit and now I spend my whole death doing the same" Hernandez said. "I mean, I love my fruits and my work. But it doesn't really feel the same unless I'm getting paid like I used to. Not like the rest of these imbéciles ".
Hernandez brandished his hand at the surrounding stalls with disgust. "Half of them give their stuff away for free. No charge at all! Since they don't need the money, they don't care what they get in return!"
Miguel understood what he meant. Another interesting thing he noticed in the Land of the Dead was that while people still had jobs here, the concept of money was different. Here, people only really carried or exchanged money purely for the nostalgia. Another remnant of the world they left behind. Material wealth had no real weight anymore. Even the most well-off skeletons lived better only because of how well they were remembered in their previous life.
Hernandez grabbed a handful of Miguel's coins and let them drop back to the bench. "This kind of stuff is no better than a bottle cap collection. It takes away some of the excitement, you know"
"You complain all you like, but as far I'm concerned, it's a big improvement" Mrs Hernandez said, nodding her head knowingly. "What was money anyway but pieces of metal. Anything can have value as long you put value in it."
Mrs Hernández walked back around the other side of the stall, next to her husband, bending forward to move some fruits into another crate. A mischievous grin formed on Hernandez face as stare at his wife's bent over posture, a dangerous thought strayed into his mind. Giving Miguel a quick wink, Hernandez stretched his arm out toward his wife's skirt and pinched something underneath, causing her to jump up and yelp in surprise
"You're right. Anything can have value in it if I put the value in it, right Ricardo!" Hernandez nudged Miguel with his elbow, laughing uproariously, slamming his hand on the bench again. Miguel didn't laugh and could only feign a nervous, half-hearted grin back at Hernandez, certainly not having the wherewithal to share in his sense of humour. That, and he was also more concerned with how Mrs Hernandez was going to respond to her husband's bold act.
And as expected, she did not appear the least bit amused. Without saying a single word, she marched over to her husband and grabbed him firmly by the arm he had pinched her with, which immediately made him cease in his chuckling, as he looked into wife's angry face with a mixture of surprise and fear. With a solid snap, she pulled his entire arm off out from his shoulder socket as easily as if she had taken off a hat.
Miguel winched painfully at the sight of this and unconsciously tucked his own arms between his elbows
"Hey-hey-hey, nonononono" Mr Hernandez stuttered in panic, as he tried to grab his arm back with his remaining one. "Isabella, I need that!"
"You get this back when I say you do" she said, waving his dismembered arm in the air, as it desperately tried to each out to its owner. Mrs Hernandez kicked open a nearby crate and tossed the arm inside, closing it shut. The arm scratched helplessly on the wood, looking as pitiful as caged animal. Hernandez glance down at his remaining arm, with a very disgruntled look, knowing that he'd now have to do the rest of his work with only the one arm.
"Never get find yourself a girl Ricardo" he grumbled to Miguel. "You'll find your whole life gets turned upside down"
"Afterlife you mean" Miguel replied dryly, resting his chin on the stall
"Aye, it is always sad when you have to die so young" Mrs Hernandez said, her angry disappearing and her expression changing to one of empathy as she regarded Miguel. She reached out and put a gentle hand under his chin, lifting up his head slightly. "Twelve years old is too soon for anyone to die"
"How did you die again, Ricardo?" Hernandez asked, as that happened to be an extremely casual question for someone in their position. At the sound of this question, Dante finally took his eyes off the fruit he had been ogling and looked up to Miguel,
"I…fell" Miguel said finally, avoiding Hernandez eyes and staring at a nearby bushel of apples. "Down a well. A deep well" he added.
"Was it like an instant death or did it drag out?" Hernandez asked unabashedly, not finding that line of inquiry to be the least inappropriate
"It went black as soon as it happened" Miguel said, hoping to deflect the topic. "I don't remember anything. Next thing, I just wake up here"
"While, don't you worry, Ricardo" Mrs Hernandez said, smiling happily. "Tomorrow night is Dia de los Muertos. It'll be your first time at one and the first time you get to visit your family
If Mrs Hernandez thought that this would cheer Miguel up, she was indeed mistaken. At the mere mention of words, 'Dia de los Muertos', Miguel's melancholy mood soured even further. His fists clenched up, and his brow furrowed, as he felt angry rising in his stomach, or least where he used to have a stomach.
"We'll be visiting our own family" Hernandez said, his own disposition now brightening up again at the prospect of seeing his family again. "Plus, we'll be doing our annual resupply to our families own shop. Hey, if you come with us Ricardo, we might let you have some carambolas, eh?"
"He doesn't need to come with us" Mrs Hernandez snapped angrily at her husband. She turned back to Miguel with a loving smile again. "Ricardo will be visiting his own family. I'm sure he can't wait to see them again"
That's when it finally snapped.
"I'm not going to visit my family" Miguel said coldly.
Both Hernandez and his wife exchanged a surprised look with each other, shocked both by Miguel's reaction and what he had said.
"What?" Mrs Hernandez said, almost sounding hurt. "Don't you have any?"
"Your parents must still be alive, right?" Hernandez said, just as taken back as his wife. "Surely they'll put out your photo on their ofrenda?"
"Yeah, well maybe they will, maybe they won't. I'm not going to check" Miguel said, his frustration becoming more and more transparent. "I don't care if I'm some stupid ofrenda or not"
"How can you say?" Mrs Hernandez said, now sounding truly shocked by Miguel's words. "That's your family you're talking about. If they don't put one up, you can't cross over. Doesn't matter to you?"
"Look, I don't want to talk about it!" Miguel snapped, pushing himself away from the stall. "Go see your own family and stay out of my business!". Glaring angrily at the Hernandezes, who were thoroughly stunned by his outburst, Miguel grabbed a pear and tomato off the stand and stuffed them into his pocket.
"Keep the money" he said coldly to Hernandez, turning his back on him. "Come on, Dante"
Dante's ear dropped low at the anger in Miguel's voice, but nevertheless followed after his master, while Mr Hernandez and Mrs Hernandez watched the boy they knew as Ricardo march off.
Leaving the market place, Miguel continued to wander forward through the labyrinths of bizarrely shaped building. As walked however, he felt his anger begin to subside, replacing itself with a stronger sense of guilt. He felt bad for snapping at the Hernandezes like that, because he knew they had always been kind to him whenever he visited. But a more pressing concern for him was the whether or not he may have given too much away during that encounter. Hernandez didn't know Miguel's real name. He had to maintain the appearance that he was just a normal (relatively speaking) dead boy so that no one would ever realise who he really was; the little boy who came from the Land of the Living a year ago. The last he needed was that kind of attention, knowing full well who it would attract.
Sighing again, disappointed by the days events, Miguel turned into a darkened alley, followed close behind by Dante. Without breaking his pace, Miguel hopped up onto an old box and onto dumpster. He then jumped upwards, grabbing the lowest rung of an emergency ladder hanging over head and effortlessly pulled himself as he began to climb. He still couldn't believe how easy it was. He figured it was because his body was so light now.
Dante clambered up the dumpster after Miguel and managed to hook his legs into the ladder, and jumped up, allowing him to reach the metal platform of the fire escape.
Reaching the roof top of the apartment building, at least five stories off the ground, Miguel walked along the edge of the roof as casually as if he was walking on a sidewalk, unperturbed by the sheer drop on the other side. When they reached a gap between the buildings, Miguel hopped over to the next one as easily as if he had just jumped over a muddle of water on the road.
He continued to traverse along the edge of the roof, literally hopping one foot at a time on the stone bricks, not feeling the least bit of fear. When he was alive, Miguel would have definitely felt afraid at such a height, knowing he would be injured or killed if he fell, but he didn't need to worry over falling. The worst-case scenario would be that he'd break his guitar and spend at least an hour reassembling all his bones
Now that he was dead, he longer had to be afraid of dying. Or at least, dying in the traditional anyway. It was an odd feeling and another quirk about being dead Miguel had a hard time adjusting to. He was more or less beyond mortal injury anymore. Miguel imagined that a lot of other people would relish in this kind of immortality, but he couldn't help but feel like it robbed him of some of the thrill by negating the risk of death.
After a while, Miguel finally came to stop at rooftop that had a good view he was satisfied with. From here, he could see almost the whole city of the dead, gleaming out across over the horizon, the sun hanging low in the sky. Miguel wasn't even sure there was a horizon here at all; everything about this world seemed to always just be. He sighed and took a seat on the edge of the roof, slumping shoulders and resting his arms on his knees. Dante lay down beside him, resting his head on Miguel's lap.
Miguel couldn't help but smiled at Dante's act of compassion and loyalty, gently patting him on the dead. No matter what he had been through since he arrived here, Dante had remained by his side. Along with his music, it was one of the only comforts he had left. He pulled out the pear he had taken from the stall from his pocket. Dante immediately spring back to his feet, patting in excitement. Miguel briefly baited him with the fruit and then tossed it half way over to the other side of the roof. Dante leapt up in the air and using his wings to carry him forward, he caught the pear in his mouth. But only for a second. His wings then seem to give up again while still in the air, causing him to crash back onto the roof again in a loud clatter.
Miguel smiled again as he watched Dante happily scarf down the pear. Turning back to the open to the street below, Miguel pulled out the tomato he had taken, turning it over in his hands several times. He knew he could eat it if he wanted, but then again, it was hard to feel hungry without a stomach.
Another thing he had found it strange to cope with was the sudden lack of an appetite. Everyone here could still eat and drink if they wanted to. But just like with the usage of money, it was really more a nostalgia than anything else. In the Land of the Living, you eat not only for the pleasure but because you'd die of starvation otherwise. Here you could eat as much as you like and never get fat. Some might call that a blessing, but Miguel had found that food loses its appeal without the hunger to go with it.
Now he could go weeks and weeks without having to eat all. Like everyone else, he only did it for that familiar sensation of eating. He could still taste the tomato in his mouth. Despite not having a tongue and taste buds, he could still feel a sensation of flavour inside his mouth. It was like a kind of phantom taste. It was there and not there at the same time. Then again, he shouldn't have really be able to talk without his tongue either, but he was beyond actual biology at this point in his life.
It was those things like fear of death and pain of hunger that would make him yearn for the Land of the Living again. To feel those kinds of things again but know that they were real and a sign that he was truly alive.
This place was far from a nightmare or what some people think of as Hell, but it wasn't a perfect paradise either. At best, it really was just an imitation of life again, though without most of the physical limitations of what was needed to stay alive. And yet, this in itself was a limitation of being a part of this world.
Miguel sighed and set the tomato down, turning his attention back to street below, seeing droves of skeletons walk on by without a real concern in the world. And that was when he spotted it. On the upper corner of the building in front of him, was the poster, advertising Ernesto de la Cruz's next performance, tomorrow night during Dia de los Muertos Miguel glowered his eyes as he read the words sprawled on the poster.
"When you see your moment, you must not let it pass you by! You must seize it!"
Those words filled Miguel with nothing but contempt and hatred that rivalled the feelings of rage he had felt when Mrs Hernandez mentioned his family to him. He stared at the oversized poster of De la Cruz plastered over the sign. The face of the man Miguel once loved as his idol, the man whom he believed more than anything was his great-great-grandfather. The man whom he thought was the source of his own musical talent that set him apart from the rest of his family.
With as much force as he could muster, Miguel flung the tomato in his hands and watched as the red orb exploded on contact with the solid billboard, the liquid inside splattering all over Cruz's perfect and majestic face, ruining its splendour.
Miguel smirked, satisfied by his work. The mere sight of it was another one of the few comforts that he had
Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Was pretty happy with how it turned out.
One thing I enjoyed doing was being able to touch upon on how some things may work in the Land of the Dead. We don't get too many rules established in the movie. For example, if people have jobs in the Land of the Dead, then do they have money as well? My idea was that they do, but it's all "dead" currency, just like the fact that all the technology we see in the movie are outdated. I actually looked up some old currencies that are no longer used
It also worked well because I was able to establish how Miguel would be adjusting to life(death) in the LotD. From his perspective, we discuss how things like food and money may work, as well as how people in the LotD may choose to pass their time, as they don't have many of the same concerns in the afterlife as do when living. Like, if you didn't have money to buy food, its not like you would starve to death. That would actually solve a lot of problems, but also create new problems as well. The idea is that, while it's not a bad place, the Land of the Dead is really just an imitation of real life, rather than real life itself and it would be interesting to see some of these implications
Anywho, hoped you like the chapter and if you enjoyed it, please leave a review or favourite, and I'll see you next time.
Peace out