We Need Each Other

Chapter 1: "My Life as a Dead Woman"

A.N: I decided to write a story for "Coco"! ^^ I own NOTHING!!! (Except my OCs) Enjoy!!! ^^

   Until now, I never realized how important memory can be for someone.  How being remembered is so crucial to your  very existence, how horrible it is to be completely forgotten. 

   I wouldn't know.  I myself never had to go through anything like that nor did I ever see someone else go through it either, and for that I was thankful.  But that all changed one year on the first of November, when I met down on his luck skeleton...and a living boy...

   But before I get to that part, I must go back a few months before I met them. 

Xxx

   "Aldina, is that other dress ready yet?" Ceci turned to me,

   "Sí, Señora Ceci.  I just finished it."  I replied happily, I stood up and showed off the dress that I had finished. 

   "¡Perfecto! Put it with the others over there."  Ceci gestured over to the large pile of folded up costumes on the far right side of the room.  They heavily resembled traditional Mexican garb.  They were made of brightly colored fabric and sparkled dazzlingly in the light of the warehouse sewing room.  Ceci and I were hard at work getting all of the costumes done for Frida and her dancers.  We had other projects that we knew needed to be finished sooner, but more costumes were requested for all of the dancers, and we needed to be absolutely certain that these costumes were going to be ready in time. 

   After all, Día de los Muertos was only a few months away. 

   I happily took my costume over to the pile.  I looked at it one more  time before folding it.  I was rather pleased with my work.  Sure, I was a pretty good seamstress when I was alive, but it seemed that when I started sewing with Señora Cecí, I got a whole lot better. 

   Hola, my name is Aldina Villero, my birth name is Alda, but I've always preferred to be called Aldina.  And in case you haven't already caught on.  Yes, I'm dead. 

   I died sometime back in the early 70s.    1970 to be more exact.  I was about nineteen when it happened.  I accidentally stood too close to the river and was pulled in by the currents and tragically drowned.  I don't really like to talk about it too much, but I suppose it could've been much worse. 

   Honestly I wouldn't say that being dead is the best thing in the world, but it's okay.  I've gotten used to it.  When I first came to the Land of the Dead, it was all a little confusing.  But that was about forty seven years ago.  Since then I've sort of built a life here, if that makes any sense.  Now I have a home, friends, a job working as a seamstress with Señora Ceci making costumes for those in the city who performed at shows, and of course, I also get to see my family on Día de Muertos.  After the tragic river incident, my family has always put my photo up on this day to keep my memory alive.  I am forever grateful for that.  I learned upon arriving that memories are really important here.  It's what this whole world is built and run on.  I myself am so glad to be a part of Día de Muertos.  I mean, it was great when I was alive, but it's just as nice now that I'm dead. 

   Little did I know that this year was going to be very different. 

   I folded the costume nice and neat and placed it in the pile with the others.  I brushed my hands together to indicate another job well done.  I needed to get started on the next dress.  I strode across the room to grab another roll of the bright sparkly fabric when I heard some loud music coming from the next room.  I looked out the doorway and saw a group of musicians playing their instruments pretty loudly.  I recognized this group, they practiced here all the time.  Although this time I noticed that they seemed more tense than usual.