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© Tiana Garcia
Tom Beland, creator of the multiple Eisnernominated series True Story, Swear to God, returns with this standalone graphic novel, the first in an all-new series. Heads will roll when the world gets a taste of CHICACABRA! In Puerto Rico, there is a girl, Isabel Sanchez, who could be like any other girl you see in high school… except for the creature who lives inside of her that's a ruthless killing machine. Chupacabras, Vejigantes, fistfights, and weed!
"It's the greatest comic I've ever read. And I've read the Bible." — Lily Garcia
Created, written, drawn, and lettered by
Tom Beland
Inspiration: Lily Garcia Editor: Chris Ryall
Collection Design by Tom B. Long ISBN: 978-1-63140-011-7
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CHICACABRA. JUNE 2014. FIRST PRINTING. © 2014 Tom Beland. All Rights Reserved. © 2014 Idea and Design Works, LLC. The IDW logo is registered in the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office. IDW Publishing, a division of Idea and Design Works, LLC. Editorial offices: 5080 Santa Fe St., San Diego, CA 92109. Any similarities to persons living or dead are purely coincidental. With the exception of artwork used for review purposes, none of the contents of this publication may be reprinted without the permission of Idea and Design Works, LLC. IDW Publishing does not read or accept unsolicited submissions of ideas, stories, or artwork. Printed in Korea.
To Lily, your love saves me daily. And to Pat, for being interesting.
Cha pte r 1
5:01
morning, izzy...! DRAG YOURSELF OUT OF BED AND get going!
RISE AND SHINE!!
hola, MY LOVE.
OKAY, tío Tony... I’M OUTTA HERE!
lara just pulled up outside.
ME... FUCK...
HOW THE HELL CAN IT ALREADY BE MORNING..?
LORD.
TODAY YOU’LL BE A ROCK STAR!
ARE YOU READY FOR your BIG DAY..?
¡Nos vemos!
get ready before she honks that horn and wakes up the neighbors!
AND THANK YOU FOR BREAKFAST.
I LOVED IT.
BEFORE YOU GO...
IZZY...
5
SAY GOODBYE TO YOUR MOM.
now.
but... lara’s going to start honking her horn and...
okay.
i have this fantasy every now and then.
one i’m not too proud of.
i walk into my mother’s room... like i have a million times...
but i have it, nonetheless.
and instead of seeing her in her current condition...
and my mother is dead and buried.
her room is empty.
hola, mami.
6
the dream should fIll me with sadness.
my mother used to beam with a light so bright, my father used to say that we never needed candles in our home... because if the lights ever went out, we had her to illuminate the room. my father used to call her his living antidepressant. I can’t remember them ever having a fIght. Ever.
the only problem is... i’m still here. And every day i’m reminded of what i’ve lost since that shooting.
because it would mean that this whole fucking nightmare is fInally over.
but instead, i feel.... relieved.
that all ended with a trip to the mall a year ago. Papi wanted to to get her something nice for an anniversary gift.
the car-jacking occured in the parking garage. they shot my papi three times... once in the head. all for a car.
i desperately want to move past all this... of having a dead father and a ghost for a mother. mi tio tony came to live with us and i love him for that...
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mami lost her mind. she moved everything that reminded her of him up to the attic. his photos... his music... his entire world. all in an effort to escape her pain.
and when that didn’t work, mi madre retreated into herself and she disappeared into her mind. i haven’t seen my parents since.
but i fear he’ll be taken away from me like everyone else.
Tom Beland presents:
it’s another year of high school.
summer has ended and all the couples have split up and started forming new relationships to help survive the coming year.
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i’m not into survival romance.
i’d rather run home, get in bed and sleep the year away.
i have to give a demonstration on something i’m passionate about in life.
dynastinae... or what’s commonly known as the rhino beetle.
for me... it’s beetles. like my favorite here.
i hate school... how i’m expected to perform and behave like all the other kids i’ve been locked in here with... like robots in assembly. none of these people have gone through what i have this past year... and yet, i’m expected to behave the way i was before the shooting. they now look at me like i’m weird.
the more i try to act like nothing’s wrong with me, the more i can feel their judgments invading my personal space. i feel like i don’t know who the hell i’m supposed to be here... the pretty girl who used to be happy and carefree...
i feel like they see me as someone to be pitied. and that really turns my stomach inside out.
or should i just be honest with them... like, really honest... about how completely alone i feel in this stupid building..? how i feel that everything you can love in the world can be taken away from you in a heartbeat.
they see me as the girl who lost her mind and lets giant bugs crawl over her. So i keep talking about my beetle until my time is up.
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I’m the sad chica who is in desperate need of a hug... which makes me feel pathetic.