It was raining really hard outside; lightning illuminated our path. One of the college’s rules was not to go inside the catacombs because they were a sacred place.
My friends and I went there several times to drink and smoke cigars. Some students knew about it but didn't snitch.
The ancient underground cemetery had amazing decorations that included statues, inscriptions of love from parents, wives, husbands, etc., and paintings on the ceilings and walls.
The catacombs’ passages were illuminated by torches.
The Sisters made sure they were always lit as a show of respect for the dead.
After a few drinks, we all went back to our rooms before the Sisters noticed our absence.
The next morning, I was awoken by the sound of sirens. I stood up and looked outside my window.
Five police cars and an ambulance were at the catacombs’ entrance. Mother Superior was talking to a couple of policemen.
I dressed as fast as I could despite a painful hangover and walked down the stairs, wondering what was wrong.
