I still remember that moment in the back of my mind. The lanterns shining brightly in front of me and the sound of my little feet running through the grass, away from panting breaths and screams, away from reality and into the bushes. My hair got caught on the branches and all I could do to stop myself from falling was looking strategically down. I had never forgotten about the time my cousin had deeply cut her own knee a few steps ahead from where I was standing. Finally, I made it.
“Got you!” My best friend Sofía said, surprising me from behind. “I told you I was a master at this game.” We both started laughing at the same time, ignorant of anything else than ourselves. Stepping out of the “castle hall,” as we called the bushes that were close to the walls surrounding my family’s countryside house. We screamed for our friends to approach us: Joseph, Pepe, Jiji, Adriana, Olivia and Ann. My childhood friends. My best memories.
“Why don’t we go to the enchanted mansion?” My little sister suggested. We all were convinced that my great grandfather’s ghost lived on the last floor of the property. It was probably because the house was very old and in each wall, there were at least two paintings of women from the 17th century, whose eyes seemed to follow our every step. However, most probably it was because one room on the top floor had a door that looked a lot like the ones they had in prison, with metal bars and a tiny space in the middle where you could put your hand in. Or lose them. No one had ever tried it, not even the bravest of us. “That is a perfect idea!” Sofía exclaimed. “Let’s ask our parents.”
Inside, the atmosphere was different. We were all sweaty and filled with adrenaline, while our moms and dads were seated around a big table with typical Spanish food on it: potato omelette, croquettes and ham. As we approached them, the conversation abruptly stopped. It’s only now when I realize that. “Hi guys!” Mom said. “Aren’t you tired?” I was never tired with my friends in our Mogro property. The garden filled with scary statues of mythological naked creatures, the geode corner where we used to pretend to be explorers and the multiple hiding spots were what I dreamed about every week. The house was like an old, Scottish labyrinth filled with old armors and books. “Nope! Let’s go up, guys!” I happily said.
The stairs creaked with our timid steps. Every now and then, I looked at my surroundings and smiled. Ann held my hand tightly, as I promised I would do when I convinced her to not stay down with my sister. Adriana, the tom boy and most adventurous of the group, firmly led us through. We whispered and laughed. Finally, there was the little gothic dining room with the paintings and the silver chandelier. But that wasn’t our focus that day. We didn’t stop until we were in front of the prison door. “Ok, this is it.” Jiji concluded. After multiple attempts to convince her to open it and giving her hugs, she held the knob and turned it. Instantly, they pushed her in and closed the door. She screamed as she thought she saw a ghost. It opened again. The inside was nothing like we had expected from the outside. The walls were covered with a red Vichy pattern, matching the two little beds in the room. Who lived here before?
“It’s time to leave, now!” Pepe’s mom screamed from the first floor. We didn’t take it seriously, as she was usually the one that gave in when we begged for a minute more. But her tone this time was different. Mad. Sad. Normal. Who knew? We were seven, it didn’t matter.
Joseph ran down the stairs, into the darkness. When we got down, he had already left. All the Moms but Sofía’s and Adriana’s had their kids’ coats in their hands, preparing to put them on their children. I was sad that our adventure for the day had ended again, but I’d see them all in school in two weeks, when it started again after the summer holidays. And one by one, they left. Our house. Our secrets. Me.
Pepe was the last one to say his goodbyes.
“I had the best time of my life fighting ghosts with you.” He whispered in my ear before his mother dragged him away. And with him, she took part of my childhood. A little piece of my heart.
That was the last time I ever saw Ann, Olivia, Pepe or Joseph.
That autumn I moved far away from my former home, so I transferred to a different school. I made different friends.
Two months later, I learned that the Mogro property had been sold. And with it, every memory I made inside. Without knowing it, my life would never be the same.
