Ya Vienen: Chapter Two | Part Eight

4 min readSep 22, 2022

Fictional Horror Series

black background, drawing of pizza box bottom middle, white text: “Ya Vienen: Chapter Two, Part Eight”

As angry and as newly determined as I was, my body was still depleted. I let myself rest for another hour. Undeterred by my body’s respite, my mind threw around ideas of ghosts, possessions, and premonitions. I was unyielding in my resolve. I was going to find a solution to this. My nightmares were going to stop. And at long last, I would get to grieve.

I finally got up and headed towards my bathroom. I thought a shower would return me to some semblance of normalcy. Enough for me to power through these next few hours.

My legs shook beneath me as I lathered up my loofah. I was afraid they’d give out on me before I could finish washing. As the sudsy water rushed down my body, I felt a new sensation come over me. There was a calmness I had not known these past few days. I was me again.

I stood under the shower head until the water ran cold.

After finishing my morning routine, I headed towards my office. I tried my hardest not to stare into the kitchen. I wasn’t ready to confront that memory just yet. Instead I opted for research. I didn’t know what the hell to look up, but I had to start somewhere. So I began with the basics. I started looking up hauntings, prophetic dreaming, and possession. I went into forums, perused countless ghost hunter websites, read articles on Parapsychology and Exorcism; ultimately all leads ran dry. There was no one thing that matched what I was going through.

I was growing more and more frustrated the longer my failure to find anything grew. Maybe I was crazy.

After hours of researching in circles, my stomach started to pain. It was rough without water, but I didn’t think I could handle putting off eating any longer. I still couldn’t face what happened last night. I opted to order dinner instead.

While waiting for my food to arrive, I decided to kill time by scrolling through my feed. I felt like I had not had actual human contact in days so it felt nice to reconnect to something. As I continued to flip through photos I came across some from Giselle. They were of her, the family, and most importantly Tia Valéria. They were from Abuela’s last birthday. Seeing their smiling faces broke me. If only we all knew that last party was the last time we’d ever be together.

The doorbell rang as I wiped away the few tears my dry eyes could muster. I went for the front door, still refusing to look at the kitchen. As I reached the door, I couldn’t help but return to that night. The look on my neighbor’s face as he stared at my bloodshot eyes and my dirty piss covered pajamas.

I opened to the door and to my relief saw the smiling face of the delivery person. After exchanging pleasantries, I paid and rushed back into my office. The dining table sat just outside the kitchen in my tiny apartment and I wasn’t about to be anywhere near the scene of my latest horror. Besides, I still had work to do.

I devoured my food. Barely taking the time to breathe in between bites. All the while I stared at my computer screen watching an old cartoon from my youth.

Giselle and I would watch this one every weekend we spent with Tia Valéria. We all loved spending time with Tia and being at her house. Covered in plants, smelling like fresh soft soil. The greenhouse was our favorite spot. It felt like a magical jungle. We would play for hours and come back in covered in dirt, trenzas falling apart. And she wouldn’t care. She’d just laugh and clean us up. As she rebraided our hair, she’d ask us about our adventure. Playing along, seamlessly. Like she was there the whole time and believed every word.

Suddenly the cartoon’s theme song plays and I’m snapped back into reality. Realizing I decimated my meal, I gathered the tattered remains of the cartons and place them back in the paper bag. I needed to clear my head and taking this to the dumpster it was a perfect excuse to go outside and get some fresh air.

As I passed my hallway mirror [avoiding its truth], I impulsively grabbed my keys. I realized I needed a drive, not a walk. I needed to get away from my place and my feet could only take me so far.

I was close to forgetting the last few days on that drive. The wind was flying past my face, picking up my hair, embracing my cheek. My car was filled with music and my amateur voice. It was peaceful and joyous all at the same time. I felt real. I felt here.

I continued to drive for another hour or so before retiring. When I got back into my apartment I decided to face my fears and went straight for the kitchen. I just stood there. Looking around. I closed may eyes trying to remember the experience without being triggered back into that headspace. I shuddered.

What happened to me?

I didn’t know, but I was going to figure it out. But for now it had to wait. I felt like I had lived a dozen lifetimes in this one day. I needed sleep. Nightmares or not.