Greetings from Canada

Day #1-Write a story after a postcard arrives from someone who passed away and whose funeral you attended that says the words, “I’m not dead, meet me tonight at ___________”
Greetings from Canada by E.R. Buendia
I read the postcard looking back at me with an image of a grey sky and an outline of old Victorian aged houses. The right bottom corner in boldfaced red writing “Greetings from CANADA” and a tiny maple leave emblem. A cryptic message scribbled on the left side: “I’m not dead. Meet me at the grave site where I was buried tonight at 8pm. Sincerely, Jake.” I let out a sigh, not knowing what to think of this news. It was 4pm and I knew the next four hours were going to be dreadful.
Eight o’clock came with a slow yearning building inside of me. I reflected gently on the memories I had of Jake as children holding hands on the swing set.
Was he in trouble?
Now that I was approaching the darkly lit cemetery with the cobblestoned plaques all around, my heart began to race. Fight or flight mode. I wondered if this would be my demise. The dark figure turned his face and looked at me with a grin on his face, which was now sunken with deep violet undertones in his sunken face.
I approached him, bearing my cross necklace on my bosom and his eyes began to burn. He let out a shriek, as high pitched as a siren. He began to step away from me to the other side of his grave. And, as I looked at him closely, I saw fangs poking out of the top of his mouth, gently onto his bottom lip. Catching his breath, he said in a whisper, “now you know my secret.”
I gasped, unable to accept the creature standing in front of me was a vampire. Knowing that vampires were fictitious creatures of the night, and, it was not possible for my oldest friend to be a vampire. Feeling helpless, as though I was under attack, I fell to my knees and felt a twinge inside of me, liquid beginning to collect in my eyes.
I aggressively brushed the tears from my eyes, looked up at him and asked, “so how long have you been a vampire?”
He looked back at me, with the eyes of a lost baby deer and said “I’m newly turned, I’m immortal, baby.”
I knew that this was the start of a twisted and long journey for Jake and I. Jake grabbed my arm and we began to float in the air, the gravestones blurred together into a gray swirl beneath us. Jake ran his fingers over my eyes and lethargy sent me into a slumber, as panic set in, unsure where this dreadful creature of the night was taking me. The lights faded away and darkness swept over my eyelids.
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