Mahika: A Midnight Story

Mahika: A Midnight Story
Curled up on a sectional, rain tapping against the window, the protagonist, now an elderly woman, prepares to share a story from her youth with her nieces and nephew. Unearthing old journals, she transports them back to a pivotal summer day when, as a ten-year-old, a simple fall in the park led to an unexpected encounter and the beginning of a lifelong connection. But the memories also stir the lingering weight of family expectations and the ever-present pressure of responsibility.

IT'S A PEACEFUL NIGHT as rain gently hits the windows. I settle deeper into the cushioned seat in the corner of the U-shaped sectional sofa. The warmth of my fluffy blanket draped over my lower body almost made me fall asleep. But I heard a big sigh from the other end of the couch, pulling me back into reality. "Hey Tatie, tell us a lil story," my niece Catalina groans, rolling her eyes at her phone. "Omg yes! There's nothing good on TV," Solána says, sitting on the floor. She turns the television off and tosses the remote aside. "I'm not telling no story to someone who's sitting on the floor," I say, shaking my head, and she gets up immediately to sit next to me. "Are we too old for stories?" my nephew said in a bored voice, walking into the living room and nudging his sister with his elbow. "Hell nahh I was here first," she says, mean mugging him. Solána and I laugh at him moving to the center of the couch with a frown on his face.