Anna Is Dead
- FICTION

- Nov 14
- 4 min read
Updated: 6 days ago
By Adrian Kaleb Quijano
Anna is dead.
Yet, I could see her everywhere. In my family’s glares. In their hateful whispers. Anna was still on my fucking laptop. I couldn’t escape her. She was like a cloud encroaching on a sunny day.
She was there. And then she was gone, at least for everyone else. But not me, she was haunting me, and she was dead because of me.
And now, I’m going to her funeral.
'You’ve got a lot of nerve showing your face around here,' Tita Jojo spat at me as I passed her on the marble steps of the church. Her harsh words were coated in a thick accent. The English that came out of her mouth sounded practiced, like she wanted to speak to me in Tagalog but she wasn’t sure I would understand it. And she wanted me to understand.
I stared at her, my gaze unrelenting through my thin, black veil and didn’t find any words to say. Her brown eyes bore into my own as she clutched her not-Gucci purse to her chest. I eventually broke eye contact and brushed passed her as she continued trying to intimidate me. I disappeared through the heavy wooden doors.
St. Michael’s Guardian of the Redemption was filled with hushed whispers. There were clusters of my relatives chismissing about me from one member of the Quijano clan to the next. Titas were hurriedly corralling their husbands and children into pews. As if afraid they would catch something from me, the interloper. Ates and Kuyas looked at me with eyes filled with pity, curiosity, and even disdain.
My leather shoes clicked on the dark, hardwood floor as I approached the altar of candles. The donation box beckoned me to give what I could to light one of the red candles for the dead. I smirked at the notion.
A Ninag noticed my smirk and scoffed before she hurriedly rushed to light a candle. I stared her straight in the eyes daring her to back down. She rushed away, tugging a crying child along with her.
I knew today would be hard on me, but I still chose to come. I came alone despite offers of support. I knew everyone blamed me. I can’t hold it against them.
Because it was true, I killed Anna.
I chose to light the closest candle to me. She loved red after all. There was a strange sort of respect I held for her. It took months of planning to get her out of the way. Anna was so deeply woven into the fabric of this family. Her isolation was hard-won. She was beautiful with brown skin and wavy hair. Whereas mine was short and butchered. The only granddaughter of the matriarch, her Lola was the eldest of the three sisters who made up the head of the Quijanos. When she won her four scholarships everyone in the family knew immediately. When she died, the family was a bit slow on the uptake.
I walked down a long path towards the dead with a smile on my face. She was lying there, in her mahogany casket, hands clasped in front of her middle. Anna’s mother dressed her in a modest black gown that reached her ankles with a neckline that came right up against her collarbone.
When I reached the coffin I was alone. The funeral crowd dispersed when they heard me approaching like I was contagious. It was only then that I lifted the black veil. I looked at her closed eyes first.
Her eyelids had a light dusting of eyeshadow. A modest decoration to accentuate her natural beauty.
'You came after all?' a familiar voice behind me said. I spared them a side glance, making it obvious I wasn’t going to move. If they wanted to talk to me they’d have to stand right next to me.
'I remember when I came to mine. It was a strange feeling, seeing her but also being there as Levi. I didn’t know what to think. I imagine you’re feeling a similar way now,' my cousin said when they took their place at my side. At this point, the not-so-quiet chismissing had faded to a hush. They all wanted to see what the two killers would do now that they were right beside each other.
'I didn’t feel like I could keep myself away. Felt right, you know?' I said, finally turning to face them. They wore the same blue suit from the last family reunion. It fit them a lot better now. It didn’t look like they were borrowing someone else’s clothes, they were just wearing their own.
'You know, you don’t owe anyone a goodbye. Not even Anna,' Levi said, their voice kind and gentle. Tears I didn’t know I had fell down my cheeks. They placed a hand on my shoulder and turned me gently so that we were face to face. I felt them pull me in for a hug which I accepted gratefully.
'Anna is dead, Mabuhay Adrian,' they whispered loud enough for only me to hear.
Adrian Kaleb Quijano is a queer, trans, Filipino writer and journalist. He has spent much of his life reimagining the world he lives in. Adrian was awarded 'Best Writer' in the Community Edition's Best of Waterloo 2024 awards. Adrian has been invited to speak at the Kitchener Public Library's 'Trans Day of Remembrance' panels of 2023 and 2024.
You can follow Adrian on Instagram at @quijanodehmanila.
Photo credit: Katarina Wex

