“The Visit” a short story

“Mami. If you can hear me, say something. Do something. Show me something. I’m calling for you. Can you hear me? Mami, si me puedes escuchar, di algo. Has algo. Muestrame algo. Estoy llamando por ti. Puedes escucharme?”

There she is - I can hear her calling me.

The sun was setting, taking the day’s warmth with it. The night’s blanket of darkness cooled the air.

The old cemetery was small, with an entrance that was being overtaken by the bushes. A single, long driveway ran through the length of the cemetery. One way in, one way out. Cirila’s grandmother was one of the last people to be buried there with her grave near the front of the cemetery next to the driveway.  

 Mi Cirilita.

The strangeness of afterlife was not scary. Sophia’s spirit moved from the past to the present often. If she wasn’t reliving a memory, her spirit would go to those who called for her in prayers or dreams, allowing her glimpses of her family’s lives.

Her granddaughter stopped by the cemetery every now and again calling out for guidance. Unsure of what to expect when she died, she searched for answers from the only person she had ever lost. With every visit, Cirila grew more desperate for signs of the afterlife.

Cirila was especially distraught tonight. It was Halloween and she was hoping to spark a connection. She knelt on the ground by her grandmother’s grave, placing her hand on the tombstone as she quietly cried. Sophia tried to take her hand but it was hopeless. This distance between the living and the dead was too great.

I’m calling out for you too baby, if only you could hear me.

After a few minutes, Cirila got up and grabbed a tote bag from her car parked in the driveway nearby. A look of determination replaced the sadness that overpowered her just moments before. From the tote, she pulled out candles, a mirror, and a large box. Sophia came close to see what was in the box.

Una OUIJA?! Niña pendeja!

Sophia was furious. She taught her daughters better than to mess with brujeria, and Cirila should have known better too.

 Even dead, this girl is still stressing me out.

She lit the candles, and left the mirror on the ground, setting the Ouija board and placard next to it. A framed photo of Sophia was carefully placed on the tombstone. Cirila then pulled out a gold necklace from the bag and placed it on the headstone, next to the photo. It bore Sophia’s name. 

My necklace.

There was a sudden force that Sophia never felt in her 10 years of death. It was the cold breathe of wind on her face. It was the smell of dead leaves and moisture in the air. She could make out the damp stains on her granddaughter’s knees. She could see the stars in the sky, and the lonely streetlight at the cemetery’s entrance. Basking in the return of her senses, she almost felt alive. She could have sworn she felt her heart spark back to life when she was startled by the slamming of a truck door on the other end of the driveway.

Cirila did not notice the only other person in the cemetery. So absorbed by her quest, she didn’t realize she was alone in the dark, with a strange man watching her from a distance. But Sophia could see the darkness that surrounded this strange man, like a black hole swallowing all light nearby. She felt the presence of evil.

Mija! It’s time to go – go now!

 Still stuck in the realm of the dead, her granddaughter did not hear her. Sophia’s elation for her new abilities was quickly replaced by panic and dread. As her spirit’s intensity grew, Sophia noticed one of the candles blow out and wondered if she made that happen. She yelled again, this time through heavy tears that were forming in her eyes.

Listen. You have to go now! That man over there – he is not good. Can you hear me?!

The picture frame fell from the tombstone. Cirila saw this and her heart jumped, quick with excitement. Was the Ouija actually working? Trying to tame the hope rising in her stomach, she closed her eyes, and asked again.

“Mami, can you hear me? Say something. Do something. Tell me.”

PLEASE LEAVE THIS PLACE BABY!

Sophia looked over at the truck and the dark aura around him grew. Just as intensely as she felt the physical world, she could feel this man’s energy and intentions. Her spirit was bombarded with images of blood and tears.

The evil inside him was undeniable – He was going to kill her.

Cirila, completely absorbed by the séance was determined. She pulled out a piece of fabric and a mirror. To Sophia’s dismay, she blindfolded herself.

With darkness covering her eyes, Cirila only felt cool air on her neck. She held the mirror in front of her, and repeated her prayer.

“Di algo Mami.”

 Cirila felt someone behind her. Chills went down her back as she listened to the sound of her loud heart cutting through the dark silence. She could feel the breath by her ear. In a cold, angry voice, she heard her grandmother’s gruff voice.

“LEAVE.”

Startled, she tore off the blindfold. She was certain her ears betrayed her as her eyes darted to the mirror. She caught a glimpse of an old woman standing behind her. It was her grandmother, crying and screaming but making no noise, pointing in a direction. She followed the bony finger and saw it – the truck. The flicker of a lighter revealed to her that someone was standing next to it.  

Cirila could not see the dark aura as her grandmother could, but the dread filled her body anyway. The two souls, one dead and one alive, were connected by the same urgency. She grabbed the photo and the necklace and ran to her car. As she left the cemetery, she caught sight of a figure that was not her grandmother watching her in the rearview mirror.