The day of the dead

"The dog was barking non-stop".
"Well it is twelve o'clock at night, I think it is normal" I replied.
Still frustrated John reinforced his moaning "Is it possible that a dog has to bark at a wall, a supermarket, a swan swimming in the lake and a bicycle?"
I tried to calm him down by telling him that probably the dog was scared at night. "Everything is so silent, so still at night, there is nobody around, you know, Scotty is used to noise and crowds of people, we live in the centre it is normal that he feels a difference between night and day. For sure this is what troubles him. And besides, he did it already many times with me.
John thought about it looking himself into the mirror. It seemed that the dog's barking didn't bother him anymore; he actually looked like he was happy and serene. He then said jokingly "Maybe he saw a ghost. They say dogs can see them. Maybe he saw your father or my brother".
I automatically answered that it could be, without thinking too much about it. Supernatural subjects always upset me since I was a little girl.
We sat down in front of the TV. John put on the DVD he rented, it was a action movie, maybe the new James Bond movie, I can't recall anymore, for me all those movies are quite similar.
After the movie ended he asked me if I wanted a piece of cake with ice cream on it, for which I didn't have the will to refuse, even though I was on a diet.
"Hey John, do you think I gained weight this last weeks?" The same second I asked this rhetoric question, he returned with an "obviously not! On the other hand you look you have lost some pounds!” He knew that he was supposed to say this in order to make me eat that ice cream with the surplus of the cake. And on top of all he wanted me to give him a blowjob the same night, maybe in bed or directly on the couch. He had all these cheeky little ways to persuade me in doing things; he thought I didn’t like it…well he was wrong.
"The ice-cream is great, huh?" he said this with his deep manly voice.
By all means it was delicious. He zapped through the channel to find something that could entertain us before going to bed.
“Is today the second of November?”
He just nodded ignoring me. Then I pinch him “Well the fourth I have a big exam!”
Again he didn’t pay attention: "Nothing is on. I'm not still tired. Let's cuddle a little, come here. I love you." What John said was more like an order that a wish.
I sat up, put my hair back, kissed him and promptly knelt so my head would be in front of his crotch. I perfectly knew he was damn horny. I unbuttoned his pants and gave him pleasure.
He tilted his head back moaning in delight and enjoying his present.
Because I was doing my thing, in these moments I was in the position of asking him whatever I wanted, I told him that tomorrow we would go see my parents and he wouldn't be allowed to complain about it!
Afterwards the lights were on in our bedroom, we still weren't sleeping, we both wanted to read our respective books, because we both had to catch up with our studies; the week had passed without our books being opened not even once and we were going to have exams the next month, before Christmas break. Moreover my English classes weren't going so well and I was expected to write a couple of short stories by the end of the following week.
At last the lights went off. My thoughts didn't, I had a really bad feeling, but I couldn't understand what it was. I tried concentrating on sleeping. I was always flustered when I had problems sleeping, but tonight seemed different, I was particularly agitated. Every little noise bothered me. I could hear the elevator going up and down the apartment building and I started wondering who in the hell was going out at this time of the night. The dog was making strange noises; they weren't growls or barks, rather like very light mewls.
Then John put his arm around me. He notices that I couldn't sleep; it was happening more and more often; his wrap around me was the only way I could relax completely and fall asleep.
My dreams flowed like water, but I didn't feel comfortable in any of them. They were unpleasant.
I woke up. John's arm was still on my shoulder. "Good morning" I said. Nothing. There was a pale November light coming out of the window. John was cold. I was in a drowsy state.
A shriek broke the silence. A shriek of terror and of disgust. I shriek that I emitted. I fell to the floor. I couldn't move. I was paralyzed. An eternity seemed to have been passed from the moment of my shriek to the instant I decided to stand up again. An eternity that was not only of time but also of place. For one eternal second I was in another world. Everything was white.
I got on my feet, trying to resist gravity that was slamming me to the ground. I was up, still dizzy. I stared at the bed now with tears running down my face. The sheets were soaked with deep red blood. John was immobile; his eyes were wide open looking at the wall. His throat was ripped. I ran out of the room. Another shriek. Another blood bath. Another corpse. I couldn't even look at it now. It wasn't anymore Scotty. It was just flesh. I threw up on the floor. Again I felt sick. Again I threw up, this time trying to reach the bathroom.
I woke up in the bathroom, on the floor, in my puck after having passed out.
The telephone was ringing, I ran toward it, refused the call and instead I composed 911. A female operator answered, my voice was trembling. I told her to send someone right away at Emerald dr. 37010. Then, after I replaced the receiver.
The ambulance came, but obviously there was nothing to do. He was dead.
Then, after the ambulance, along came also the police. They wanted to know so many things. They made so many questions. And I couldn't answer one of them. They asked me if they could inspect the apartment, maybe they could find some clues. Then after that they brought me to the police station so the could have their official interrogation and I am still here.”
Isabelle was telling the entire story to her best friend Charlie. She was on the phone with her while with her eyes she was passing the desks full of papers and in front of them the secretaries trying to finish their duties.
Charlie prayed he with impatiens to continue.
“The police left me in a cold room without any furniture, I was tired, I felt I was going to faint. Then an officer came in, sat at the other end of the table I was standing beside. He told me he was sorry for what had happened and then added that they had already found something. They found a story about a murder, exact to the one that happened in my apartment. Every detail, every word, everything, do you understand?!” her voice seemed broken by sighs. Charlie could her that her friend was crying in disbelief and she was also bewildered.
“Well the story was found in my computer. They think I have written it. So they could come any minute here to interrupt this conversation.”
A gasp on the other line revealed the disgust. Charlie didn’t know what to think, but certainly it was a mistake she said. Actually any body could have been in Isabelle’s pc and transferred a file, it would have quite fast and easy, Isabelle just needed a lawyer with square balls so that all this would be forgotten a part from the grief for John she added.
Isabelle toke a big breath than answered: “They are coming now, I guess the conversation won’t be much longer. But before, I want to tell you something I didn’t confess to the police. When I was calling 911 I found on the telephone table a note and it was strange since the table was usually empty. I was still in shock, I didn’t have the power to read it, but something struck me: it was written with blood. So I reached for it, I read it. It said: “Happy day of the dead”. It was written with my handwriting.”
The line gave no signal.