Hello! I apologize in advance for all the times that I might update a little later than expected, but I am moving. And I love books so I got to pack around 500 ;-; plus probably another 2,000 that my mom owns (you love books until you move and have to pack them up).

I decided I'm going to do a side on the living side, but focus more on the Land of the Dead since I want to keep it more on Miguel's point of view and adapting to being dead. Also, the dead can't see their relatives until the Day of the Dead so they can only guess what they are up to before that, so I'll try to keep that mystery.

I might also update a little late since I'm starting to realize that the past chapters have A LOT of typos, so I want to make sure the writing is as good as possible.

Anyways, on to the story…

…

"Shut up!" the strange man with the breath that smelled like liquor and cigarettes demanded as he stabbed the knife deeper into Miguel's stomach. The screams came out almost automatically, making the man angrier.

Miguel paralyzed with horror as the man's mouth turned into a wicked smile. He covers the boy's mouth and twists the knife without flinching. There wasn't any more pain, but the panic filled his lungs, blocking his airway.

'No, no, NO!' Miguel tried to move his legs to get away, but the man grabbed him by the throat and lifted him up. 'POR FAVOR STOP!' His legs were kicking thin air.

The man opened Miguel's wallet and smiled when noticing that the boy had over 1,000 pesos. "This should cover my debt at the bar".

'My savings… Just take them… Just let me go… I have to… Mamá… Help… I can't breathe…'

The darkness was overwhelming, and he felt himself drowning in it. He could recognize a mix of emotions, but some were new.

'You left me there to die… Like a stray dog…'.

Now there was only Anger. He knew the voice that was building up from his stomach, it demanded revenge.

'I will end you, just like you ended me'

Now there were multiple voices.

'It's your fault, you took that shortcut home'

'End him'

'He's still here, he knows where you are… You have to run'

'You are not a man, you couldn't even fight a drunk'

Miguel felt the tears build up in his eyes, 'SHUT UP! Leave me alone! Please!'

'Without us, you are alone!'

'I can't leave…'

'End him and I'll leave…'

'You are nothing Miguel Rivera… Nothing"

"WAKE UP!"

Miguel's eyes shut open, and he finds himself covered in sweat. "It was just a dream… Just a dream". He whispers between wheezes as he's looking around trying to find the voice that had woken him up. All he knew was that it was a female, it didn't sound like the voice of a small child, an old or a young woman. It was simply a woman's voice.

"This isn't my room…?" What had happened the previous day? He could remember waking up and eating the special breakfast that his grandmother had made for him. The day wasn't out of the ordinary, he had gone to school… Oh right, a classmate had volunteered to tutor him in math since he was close to failing. When finished, Miguel got offered a ride home, but refused since he wanted to walk home and listen to music on his new smart phone. He had taken a shortcut home, and the drunk man… The drunk man!

He pulled up his hands automatically to confirm his worst fear. He's dead.

A soft knock interrupted his thoughts. Héctor's head pooped into the room with a nervous grin.

"Good morning, kiddo"

"Good morning, Papá Héctor" Miguel returned the smile.

"Can I come in?"

"Sure" Miguel stretched his neck and prepared his best smile.

Héctor walked in slowly, and sat on the bed, "Julio and I told the family", and their reaction was upsetting, just as expected; they spent all night comforting each other and preparing for the morning. Rosita and Imelda spent their time in the kitchen, baking sweets, making tamales and planning the meals for the next day. Victoria joined them, but was busy reading a book on child psychology, analyzing the situation and preparing for what was coming. Meanwhile the men took turns spotting Miguel and preparing his room; the family had recently been making arrangements and building a second story, and thus the boy's room was brand new. They even decided to make a quick trip to the furniture store and buy him a desk and wardrobe. Everyone was except for Coco, Héctor and Julio knew that her reaction would be unexpected, but the fact that she wanted to be left alone was a new one. She had spent the night outside, humming lullabies with only her alebrije for company.

"Sorry I couldn't do it myself" Miguel looked down to his hands, playing with them nervously. His sense of touch had not changed, and to his surprise his bones to be soft and fresh, like a baby's skin.

"Don't worry about it" Héctor responds with a big smile, "Are you hungry?"

"Hungry?" up until then, Miguel hadn't felt it, but it suddenly took over his body, that being the only thing he could think about, "yikes"

"Yeah, it's simply because your body is adapting to being dead, after a few days it'll go away" Héctor got up and offers his hand to the boy.

…

The house was calm, which was expected since the whole family was waiting in the dining room with the feast that Imelda and Rosita had prepared.

The whole family held their breath when Miguel walked in, some looked at him in shock while others looked away. The silence was tense, and no one dared to break it, leaving Miguel with the urge to run out of the room, only being held back by Héctor's hand on his shoulder.

"Mijo" Coco was the first one to speak, "you might want to change"

Miguel looked down at his clothing, and to his horror he realized that he was still wearing the gray shirt covered in blood. His reaction was to turn around while attempting to cover it. "Sorry" He mumbled.

"I'll lend you some of my clothes" Julio immediately steps up, grabbing Miguel's shoulder and nodding at Héctor, who nodded back.

Julio lead Miguel to his and Coco's room. The boy wasn't surprised to find it covered in pictures, and he felt nostalgic when he recognized one of himself with his sister Socorro. He was kneeling while playing Héctor guitar and she sat on the ground clapping with a big smile on her face. It looked like it had been taken in the last Day of the Dead, after all, Miguel was wearing his charro suit.

"Miguel?"

It is then that he realizes that he is crying, "sorry Papá Julio" he responds and wipes the tears off. Julio smiles and stands next to him.

"Coco couldn't resist and had to take a picture" he explains, "it was a beautiful Día de Muertos"

"Yeah" Miguel whispers and feels how dry his throat is, "where can I change?"

"The bathroom is right over there" Julio nods to a door on the left.

"I thought there weren't any restrooms on the land of the dead" Miguel comments with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"We have them, but without the toilets" Julio answered, "I mean, we all like to take a shower and Coco fixes her wig and makeup in the sink"

"Can I shower here?" Miguel asks while walking opening the door and smelling the vanilla candles.

"Sure!" Julio answers sounding a little too excited, "I'll wait out here" Easy Julio. He hands his clothes to the boy and sits down on the queen size bed, "let me know if you need anything"

"Will do" Miguel responds with a nod and enters the bathroom, carefully placing the clothes Julio handed him on the sink. He takes off his clothes slowly, exploring his new body. He hadn't paid attention in class when they were giving the lecture on the human body, and is surprised to find how complicated his bones were. He avoids the mirror and steps into the shower.

The water is warm and it washes down the blood down the drain. He is amazed at the amount, he knew that he bleed to death, but never really calculated the actual amount he lost. He reaches for the shampoo but remembers that the dead wear wigs, and pulls on his hair to confirm it. He washes the rest of his body, allowing himself to relax under the warm water. When finished, he remains under the shower until the hot water runs out. He then washes his new wig thoroughly, making sure that there isn't any dust or blood on it.

He steps out of the shower and allows himself to have one look in the mirror. The markings on his cheeks were like Héctor's, being of the same shape but with different colors. He recognizes that his face is rounder and smaller, mostly resembling Julio's. The towel is soft, but wet from all the steam that the warm water produced, Miguel brushes it off and dries himself as best as he can; he also dries his wig and puts it on as symmetrically as possible. Surprisingly the Julio's clothing fits him perfectly, but it made him look like a man-child, hopefully they'll take him shopping for new clothes soon.

He picks up his dirty clothes and steps out of the bathroom.

"They fit!" Julio comments surprisingly.

Miguel responds him with a smile, "where do I put these?" he asks while showing them his dirty clothes.

"We can always throw them away" Julio answers cautiously.

"I like my jacket and I think the pants are still good" Miguel explains as he looks at them carefully, "I don't mind tossing the shirt though"

"Alright, follow me to the laundry room" Miguel hands him his clothes but holds on the shirt.

…

The laundry room isn't any different from the one in the land of the living, he explores it while Julio puts the clothing in different piles.

"Are you ready to toss it?" Julio asks referring to the bloody shirt.

Miguel gives it one last look and then hands it to Julio. He finds the nearest trash can and throws it in there. The boy makes a mental note of the can and follows his great-grandfather out of the room and into the dining room where the family is waiting anxiously.

He sits down and avoids their stares by admiring the food; the table was filled with so many dishes it felt like it was the Day of the Dead. He spots conchas, chilaquiles, potato and egg, potato and ham, huevos rancheros, toast, quesadillas, beans, sausage and 3 different kinds of salsa.

"It looks amazing" He comments as he feels his nonexistent stomach grumble and his mouth water.

"We're glad you like it" Rosita answered while getting up to grab a plate and begins to fill it with food for Miguel.

The tension faded as soon as everyone began eating, and the family felt comfortable asking questions about members in the land of the living.

"How is Socorro?" Imelda asked with her eyes sparkling.

"She's great, finally learning to speak, and calls abuelita 'bita'" Miguel responds while reaching for more food to fill his plate, "Did you make such a big breakfast because you knew I'd be hungry?"

"That's part of it" Rosita answers and serves him 2 conchas, "but mostly because we wanted to welcome our newest member"

Miguel smiles and takes a big bite out of one of the conchas, not noticing the stares that the family is giving each other.

"Miguel" Coco begins, earning the boy's attention, "would you be willing to go down to the police station today to report what happened yesterday?" she asks as softly as possible.

Miguel automatically stops chewing and puts down the concha in the plate. The flavor is now bitter and he wants to spit it out, but instead takes a deep breath and swallows it. He opens his mouth but finds that he has nothing to say. Was he even ready to admit what happened? Or talk about it with his family? Definitely not. How would he be able to share it with the police? What if that drunk was dead? What if he wasn't?

"Mijo?" Coco asks

Miguel looks up, having already decided, "I guess I'd rather get it over with" he mumbles.