Page 1 of Mortal Desires

Her voice sounded like a distant chime, her tone urgent but sweet. I liked her heavy accent and the way she rolled her R’s over her tongue when she called my name.

“Pilar! Pilar!”

My eyes opened slowly, landing on my abuela. It was still dark, the house quiet. I rubbed my eyes, trying to understand what was happening, and she shook her head.

“Time is running out. Follow me.” I noticed the vibrant red shawl swung over her shoulders as she disappeared through the opened door.

I knew better than to argue. I jumped out of bed, my feet landing on my favorite bunny slippers, and followed her steps while she continued to rush me. “Pilar, andale.”

“Sorry, Abuela,” I whispered.

Brushing the long hair over my shoulder, I crept out of my room through our silent manor.

“What time is it?” I was careful to keep my voice down.

“Just after six,” she said over her shoulder. “But you have to be quiet. Can you be quiet, Pilar?”

I shivered, understanding the importance of her request. I bobbed my head up and down, going on my tiptoes when the floors moaned under my small feet.

Abuela hurried, her steps full of purpose as she guided me from the second floor up the stairs to where Daddy’s bedroom was.

I may have been little, but I already knew Daddy’s floor was off-limits. Not to disturb Dad was something we all knew from birth. Abuela kept going, unafraid, but just with a look, she let me know I had to be extra quiet now.

I didn’t want to wake up my sisters. Elena was crabby in the morning and Elisa asked too many questions. But I definitely shouldn’t wake Daddy up. He liked to yell…a lot. Especially at Marnie and me because we were the littlest. We were only a year apart, but Marnie was really clumsy. She bumped into things, dropped everything, and was always too loud.

Daddy didn’t like that about her. But then, I was always quiet, and he didn’t like that about me either.

My mouth clamped shut, and I held my breath as I tiptoed right in front of his bedroom door.

My eyes widened, and my heart thumped loudly like it wanted to escape my chest. Abuela looked at me again, giving a timid smile for reassurance, and I dipped my chin down, trying to be strong and unafraid.

I could be quiet. I could follow her and not let Daddy see where we were going.

We continued down the hall and up the spiral staircase to the attic. This part of the house was off-limits, Daddy was clear about that. I knew it was where he kept Mami’s stuff. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach when I thought about her and everything that would be within my reach.

I forged ahead, trying to be careful. My hands shook as I touched the walls for balance, wincing when the floors complained too loudly under my weight.

Abuela stopped in her tracks and we both took a moment to listen. I swallowed down the knot forming in my throat and tried to concentrate on any noise beyond the loud beating of my own heart. I squeezed my eyes shut, and when they opened, Abuela’s nose was a whisper away from mine.

“It’s ok. Don’t be afraid. He’s sleeping.”

I nodded and turned, leaving me to follow her once again.

We stood in front of the attic door and I let out a breath. Not out of the woods yet, but we were so close.

Abuela nodded ahead. I understood her request and reached for the knob, twisting as gently as I could. I bit my cheek to hold in my squeak when the door opened without resistance and showed me everything I had never been allowed to see.

Boxes upon boxes lined the walls, the past of our coven written in history. In the right corner, I spotted Mami’s wedding dress. The one I’d only seen in pictures. With a smile, I ran to it, my greedy fingers wanting to touch the fabric and feel if it was as soft as I imagined. But before they made contact, Abuela called.

“Here, Pilar. This one.”

She was standing over a box on the other side of the attic. I glanced longingly at the wedding dress one last time, but fisted my hands at my side and followed Abuela’s instructions.

Kneeling in front of the box, I opened it up, disturbing years of dust that tickled my nose.

“The small black box, you see it?”

Inside the cardboard box was all Mami’s old stuff—a few notebooks, knick-knacks that used to be around the house, and fiction books. I avoided them all, closing my fingers around the small velvet box.

---