It was dark. A complete, engulfing darkness. No sound or sight cut through this shroud.<br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">Mateo saw nothing and no one, but he did not feel alone. In fact, he felt as if he were less alone than he had ever been. Whispers and laughter began to permeate the thick emptiness of his surroundings. At first they were hushed giggles but they soon grew into full blown laughter. <br/>Laughing at him? No, it didn't sound like it. It was happy, not mocking. The laughter became more dispersed in tone, more distinct; he could make out words here and there. Now there were happy shouts and clapping. Music was next to come and Mateo became excited. The chatter of birds and the warmth of the sun told Mateo that he was outside, but he could still see nothing.</div><br/><br/>One voice grew more lucid than any other"<span style="font-style: italic"><span style="font-weight: bold">It's time for the piÃ±ata!</span></span>" his mother shouted over all the clatter. The darkness made sense now. Mateo touched the back of his head and felt the distinct texture of knotted cloth. He was blindfolded. Everyone was clapping in unison now. His mother's perfume signified that she was standing in front of him. She placed a firm but fragile hand on each of his shoulders and begun to spin him about. His joyous laughter matched the crowds, he had never had a piÃ±ata before. The song began. His mothers sweet voice was met with the boom of his fathers and the crowds voices. His mother gave him a bat and he dizzily walked to where he believed the piÃ±ata was hanging.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic"><span style="font-weight: bold">"Dale, dale, dale,<br/>no pierdas el tino;<br/>Porque si lo pierdes<br/>pierdes el camino."</span></span>They sang. He swung and laughed. He struck the piÃ±ata and he heard it start to crack. He struck it again but something seemed wrong.<br/><br/>The clapping had stopped and the singing had become malevolent, aggressive, commanding chant-like. The words were not spoken in spanish anymore:<br/><span style="font-style: italic"><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="color: #FF0000">"Hit it, Hit it, Hit it,<br/>Don't lose your aim<br/>If you lose your aim<br/>you lose your way"</span></span></span><br/>Mateo had to know what was going on. He slipped the blindfold from his eyes to see that the piÃ±ata was a deformed image of himself, a crack in the head showing an empty shell. The people about him were still chanting. Their stares, directed at the piÃ±ata, were intense and full of hatred. Mateo's heart raced, and his vision blurred as their stares focused on him now still chanting. People began to shout insults at him as the chant rises in volume and intensity. His father rushed from the crowd toward, a bat raised and ready to strike. He swung.......<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">"BOOM"</span><br/><br/>The sound of an alarm, a thud, and the smell of smoke as one of the residence across the hall was having a hard time waking up this morning jolted Mateo out of his nightmare. Mateo carefully jerked his spiked arm free of his bed and chuckled to himself while he was getting ready for the day. It was odd to say, but the sound of Drake fumbling with a fire extinguisher was so regular around here it was almost like a weekly routine. Mateo washed up and walked drowsily down the stairs, eyes fighting to stay open as he entered the kitchen. Veronika hurried past him as if she had something urgent to deal with, but he was too tired and way too hungry to be bothered by it. He headed straight for the fridge. He had been planning to cook bacon and eggs since last night and he was already drooling at the familiar scent.....<br/>Wait.... He wasn't imagining that smell. He rushed to the fridge door and swung it open hard. His breathing became shallow and his nails grew dark and sharp.<br/><br/>"Orale," He groaned loudly" which one of you vatos ate all the bacon!?! That was a brand new pack!" He shouted. He cursed while angrily cracking half a carton of eggs into a large pan, using words he had picked up on the streets while he was in hiding. He emerged from the kitchen with a large plate of eggs, a piece of toast at the edge of the plate. He caught sight of the zombie with his bacon and huffed in an almost pouty way as he realized that his anger was a bit over the top. However, he wasn't going to just let it go, he had just made a huge scene of it minutes ago after all. He was about to take a seat on the couch when a cold chill told him not to.<br/><br/>"Woah!" he gave an awkward hop and skip motion as if he were trying to avoid a series of puddles on the street, the toast slipped from his plate but he wasn't concerned with it "G-good, morning, Helena" he said, quickly turning to face her. "I-I'll just, I'll sit on the ground here," he said, face lowered to look at his plate. He had forgotten his one-sided quarrel with Clay and just looked for something to say.<br/><br/>"So, um, w-what was Veronika in such a rush for?" he said as he hurriedly sat cross-legged on the ground.