"It's so cold in this bathroom. And my feet are getting slimy. Does that woman ever wash her soap dish?"
"Hush, my precious Calaca. She'll hear us."
"Something horrible happened in here. I can feel it."
"Why do you say that?"
"I don't know. But she propped us up here for a reason."
"Because she carries a burden. She's not summoning the dead for joyful reasons. Not enough room in this bathroom for a celebration."
"Wait! I think I can see something in my mind. A knife...and blood."
"Candles burning, too. I can smell the wax, can't you?"
"Yes. Candles and blood."
"I'm seeing the bedroom. A man and a woman. A beautiful woman, with long dark hair and scarlet nails. They are laughing, playing with each other."
"Yes...I see them. Her name is Alma. He is Jorge. They are in love."
"And the woman, the one who brought us here, she's standing in the doorway. Watching. She is sad."
"More than sad. There is something evil in her eyes. Do you see it?"
"She is walking toward them but they don't notice. They only have eyes for each other."
"The knife! Alma, watch out for the knife!"
"I can hear Alma's screams. See her tumble off the bed. She's running, now crawling! Coming in here to the bathroom!"
"The evil one follows! Save yourself Alma!"
"The knife. Watch out for the knife!"
"Oh no. The blood. So much blood."
"Jorge has followed, but he doesn't see the knife. Watch out! Watch out!"
"Oh, the mad woman is strong. She is too much for him! She has killed him, too!"
"So much blood. But the vision is fading. Do you see more?"
"No. It is over, my precious Calaca."
"And now, you understand why we are here?"
"Yes. Now I know."
"She will never celebrate the Day of the Dead. Guilt will not allow her to. But her sorrow can't keep us from happiness, can it...Jorge?"
"Never, Alma. We have eternity together."