Short Stories

Day of the Dead

Once upon a time, skeletons walked amongst the living. You might be picturing white, black, and grey skeletons, and you're right. All of them were. Except for one.

The skeleton stood out from the others, for this skeleton was blue. And orange. And yellow. And pink, red, green. All the colors they're feeling. Joy, happiness, sadness, warmth, depression.

"Why is he so depressed?" They, not he. They had been disowned by their family, they had no friends, but they tried, tried because they couldn't succumb to conformity, no matter how many times rocks were thrown at them, no matter how many times they've been teased. They will dance and play and be themselves.

But then..

No one knows exactly what happened. It was a usual grey, foggy day, the sun never did shine its face anymore, but there was something different. The slight breeze felt different, that's for sure. The skeletons realized something.

There was no color. No music. No screams of laughter. They, them, the unnamed skeleton, wasn't there. The community didn't bother searching. They were relieved, though. Because it wasn't loud anymore.

The next day, the bright, loud and colorful skeleton didn't appear again.

That's how it was for the next three months. Boring, bland, dull. Every skeleton did their own thing.

What they didn't know was that the colorful skeleton still walked with them. They had finally broke. Dull, black, white, grey. That's how they were. Someone had forgotten them. Like the rest were forgotten.

Three months. Eleven days. Fifteen minutes. Nine hundred seconds. Nine hundred and one. Nine hundred and two. And then...

Brightness. Loud. The sun! The sun had come back and with it, so did the now loud skeleton. Not everyone was fond of this but a lot of people warmed up to it and accepted it.

Some days, the sun wouldn't shine. On those days, neither would they along with those who became colorful with them.

Forty-seven years. That's how long they've been enhancing and dwindling away. One minute. Two minutes. Two days. That's the longest they've been grey in a while.

Forty-seven minutes, the sun came back out again and with it, so did the others. They had become happy again. Except something was wrong. The one that was usually always the brightest, always the happiest, was still dull, unhappy. The small, happy community visited them. The whole day, they tried to cheer them up. It worked, for they were colorful and happy.

As the day turned to night, they began to fade. As they stood taller, they crumbled to ashes and dust. It happened so fast, yet so slow.

The whole day, no one noticed but they have been crumbling to ashes all day. It was little, unnoticeable things like their toes, the tips of their fingers, small, tiny parts. They had been forgotten. This time, permanently.

That's why we have the Day of the Dead festival! So, no one is ever forgotten.