Damn the morning you got up from our bed and left my side naked and carefree straight to the shower, leaving your silhouette on our sheets and your scent on my skin. We had so many things to do together, so many projects, everything vanished that day when that drunk driver blinded your life. I can't stop thinking about you love, it disturbs me to know that you'll never be by my side again, I dream of that day when we'll meet again, here or in the hereafter.
But I can't wait, I need your warmth and your presence in my life Marcos, tonight, the darkest and most mysterious night of the year, the day of the dead, I will go to the cemetery to meet you and I will do what the Gipsy Fedora told me, what can I lose if reason has already left my mind with your departure? I have never been a believer of these esoteric things, however the fact that the gypsy approached me at the entrance of the park and looking me in the eye she read my suffering surprised me a lot, besides she told me that she has the solution to my problem. I was frozen, could she make my Marco come back to me?
He took me to his lair in the park, a kind of tent hidden under a bridge, almost unnoticeable because it was covered by a huge weeping willow. Very calmly he tells me, -I know what you want, I saw it in your eyes, I know how to help you, but first you must know that it won't be free, it will cost you a lot-. Well, no matter what it costs, I am willing to pay anything if it will bring me into his arms again. Very good girl, I like that. Come tomorrow night, bring a picture of your husband and then transfer 5 BTC to the address I will send to your cell phone.
I must admit that I felt scared, certainly nothing guaranteed that the gypsy would fulfill my wish but there is something about her that makes me trust her, maybe she hypnotized me and I am a victim of her spell, the truth is that I did what she asked me, I returned to her shack, I had Marcos' picture with me and I had already made the payment with the established amount. The gypsy Fedora was waiting for me, she asked me to do the same in front of her. Between the two of us a small table separated us and on it a candle that threatened to leave us in the dark, a bottle of a transparent and unrecognizable brandy and a small metal box.
My daughter, place the picture of your beloved right between the box and the candle, she told me and I did so; afterwards she asked me to take a drink of her liquor, it had a very strong flavor, I felt fire in my throat. Shortly after the gypsy went into a trance, she drank the liquid again and expelled it on the photo, once this was done she took the image of my Marcos and lit it with the candle before my face of disbelief. She put the ashes in the little metal box while muttering some unintelligible words, could it be that I gave my trust to a madwoman or am I the one who lost my sanity?
Five minutes passed (I saw it as an eternity) of the frantic ritual of the gypsy when she stopped with her gaze fixed on the box, then she raised her head and looked me straight in the eyes, I could swear that her eyes turned into a phosphorescent tone, like a demon's, the truth is that I felt very scared (I was literally shitting my pants). Fedora staring at me said: this Friday at midnight, day of the dead, the darkest and most mysterious night of the year go to the cemetery with the little box, open it and spread the ashes on his grave, then shed a tear and a drop of your blood on his tombstone and just wait .... just wait.
And here I am, kneeling by his grave, hoping for the contents of this little box, with my tears thinking of him and my blood boiling with longing to be in his arms again. I did everything the gypsy woman told me to do, in the same order, once the process was finished I just had to wait and I did it with so much faith that I fell on top of him, only the grass and the worms separated us. Just after a while I feel the tombstone vibrate, the earth under my body seems to boil, I step aside, my heart seems like that of a hummingbird beating at a thousand per second. Suddenly a hole appears, inside it the wood of the coffin creaks, it shatters. From the bottom of the hole the corpse of my loved one emerges from the night mist, without saying anything he extends his right arm and makes a gesture as if to tell me to come closer to him, without hesitation I surrender to his arms and melt into his body, my Marco is alive .... rotten, but alive.
I woke up at dawn, I was on his grave, with his tombstone as a pillow, everything seemed normal, as if nothing had happened, was it a dream, was it my imagination, I know it was him, Marcos, he was alive, I could feel my love again, my love from beyond the grave.
