Graveyard Girl

Chapter 8

Chapter 8

She's a skeleton. I should be scared but my eyes light up when I see her. Angela's face is painted in white in black: white for bone and black for shadow. She's wearing a red leather jacket and blue jeans, carrying a tote bag. She's stunning. My heart starts to pound in my chest. She's at the bottom of the hill and I'm fighting the urge to sprint down the bottom of the hill to her.

After I look at her for too long she finally says, "Hey,"

"Hey," I say back letting a smile grow on my face. I suddenly remember the reason that we are here.

"I brought a photo," I say. "I think it'll work for the ofrenda."

I hand her the photos and she pours over them. "Wow, Leo. This is a great photo."

She looks down at the grass, looks up at me and smiles. "So, I don't know if this is weird, but I would love to draw this photo."

"Sure," I say. "I know you would do it justice."

"Awesome," she says sinking to her knees and emptying the contents of her bag on the grass in front of the graves.

"So I got the candles and matches and everything. Here, take one," She says handing me a couple candles. I look into her eyes painted in black.

"Thanks," I say. With a deep breath, I prop up the photo and surround it with the candles.

"Shit, I'm really doing this," I say with disbelief. Angela strikes a match and passes it to me. She carefully shields the flame to keep it from going out. I take the match and light the candles and then I shake the match until the flame goes out.

I stare at the ofrenda and emotions swirl within me. It's really sad and beautiful to look at. I look over to Angela's mother's grave and it's beautiful.

Angela drew a picture of her mother and it's front and center in the ofrenda. The drawing sits on a bed of flowers that she delicately arranged. Unless I'm sorely mistaken they're lilies.

While I'm riveted by the display Angela starts pulling a metal tin and a brush out of her bag.

"C'mon we gotta get you too," she says. "You know what they say about going halfway." She opens up the can of body paint.

"It's ok. I trust you." I move over to her and sit cross-legged in front of her.

"I am an artist," she laughs. "So first, skeletons don't have noses so let's get rid of that."

The brush is wet and tickles my nose. Angela is so close to my face. She is so focused on her work.

"Ok, you need a little more. Skeleton teeth?"

"Go ahead."

She places the brush on the side of my mouth. My face starts to twitch and I really want to smile.

"Don't smile. Leo," she leans back and pouts at me. When she leans back in I want to close the space between us.

"Ok, I won't."

"Leo."

"I won't."

She holds my chin in place so she can work. She makes little strokes on my upper lip and chin with the brush. Her breath tickles my skin. I take in the art on her face and notice all the fine details: the extra long black eyelashes she painted on her eyes and dots above her eyebrows.

With the last stroke she finishes. She leans away from my face appraising it.

"You look dead to me." She shrugs, closing the paint jar and putting all the materials into her bag.