Aurora nunca ha sabido diferenciar la fantasía de la realidad, incluso entre los conceptos escritos por los especialistas en lo onírico. Comúnmente, su visión se trastorna; arrebatándola paulatinamente del entorno en el que se desenvuelve. Encerrada en su habitación, se volvió experta en el bordado, con solo catorce años ya era capaz de hacer grandes obras con solo hilo y agujas.
Dicha actividad la mantenía ocupada, enfocada y consecuente, antes de caer en el repentino y sutil abrazo del mundo de los sueños. El pueblo donde residía era muy pequeño; quinientas personas a lo mucho. Todos conocían a la joven Aurora y lo que padecía, aunque era ya bastante común, a la gente le inquietaba que la pobre muchacha se durmiera de repente. Ella siempre iba acompañada de su nana, quien la protegía de cualquier calamidad que le ocurriera por su condición.
Su padecimiento no era algo del otro mundo, más no lo que había detrás de ello. Cuando Aurora dormía, podía conectarse con las personas a través de sus sueños. Podía sentir sus emociones, sensaciones y vivencias como si se tratara de su propia realidad. No podía diferenciar lo cierto de lo imaginario. Un sentimiento que le estimulaba más temor que asombro, muchas veces quiso confesarle a su nana lo que ocurría, pero prefirió guardárselo para ella misma.
Una mañana, mientras tejía con ella una gran colcha para su madre, su nana comenzó a observarla detenidamente. Sintió que algo la distraía y comenzó a hacerle preguntas.
“¿Estás bien, hija? Te noto extraña.” Preguntó la nana.
“No… yo… solo estaba pensando.” Titubeó Aurora clavando la aguja en la colcha con poca precisión.
“Te conozco y sé que algo te perturba, cuéntame, ¿qué ocurre?”
Aurora apretó los labios y negó con la cabeza, luego volvió a concentrarse en la colcha.
“Bueno, si vamos a tener secretos entre nosotras, no te diré lo que tu madre me dio para ti.” Dijo la nana intentando manipularla.
“¿Mi madre me dejó un regalo?”
“Sí, pero no debo decirte nada, es un secreto.” Sentenció la nana doblando los labios sarcásticamente mientras hilaba.
Aurora suspiró, dudosa de contarle a su nana sobre su sueño. Tanto ella como su madre, aminoraban lo extraordinario que le ocurría como algo parte de la narcolepsia y los medicamentos.
“Es solo otro sueño que tuve; de esos vívidos donde no sé diferenciar lo real de lo imaginario.” Confesó con timidez.
“Esos sueños que tienes me parecen interesantes, aunque tu madre opine lo contrario. Dime, ¿qué soñaste esta vez?”
Aurora se tomó un momento para pensar y tragó una bocanada de saliva.
“Soñé que estaba en el puente de aquí en el pueblo. Era de noche y cargaba una maleta enorme y negra. Era muy pesada y la dejé caer al río. Me quedé observando hacia abajo hasta que la corriente hizo que la maleta se perdiera.
“Luego era de día, paseaba por la orilla del río y fue cuando encontré la maleta de nuevo. Sentí mucho miedo, así que la tomé y la enterré a mitad del bosque. Después eso, el sueño se convirtió en una caminata recurrente hacia el bosque. Volvía una y otra vez al lugar donde había enterrado la maleta para luego acariciar su superficie. Sentía mucha tristeza y arrepentimiento. Me ahogaba. No podía dejar de llorar. Y luego de que me desahogué, me alejaba de ese lugar y allí era cuando despertaba.”
“¡Que extraño sueño!” Exclamó la nana palidecida. “¿Dónde exactamente quedó enterrada la maleta?”
“Casi al final del camino pedregoso en el bosque, a un lado.” Replicó Aurora.
La nana se estremeció de espanto, tiró la colcha al suelo y salió de la habitación de súbito. Aurora, asombrada, fue tras ella y le preguntó que le pasaba. La nana no le contestó, estaba al teléfono hablando con la policía, luego colgó y se acercó a Aurora colocando su mano suavemente en su cabeza.
“Tranquila, hija, todo estará bien.” Murmuró la nana y luego le dio un abrazo.
Horas más tarde, se corrió la noticia en el pueblo de que habían hallado el cadáver de un chico desaparecido. Su cuerpo estaba en una maleta negra, tal y como la había descrito Aurora en su sueño. La nana llevó a la chica al lugar del hecho y ambas quedaron asombradas. La policía las interrogó, pero omitieron los detalles fantásticos. Aurora ya no guardaba el secreto para sí misma desde ese día, sino que ahora tenía a alguien en quien confiar.
Aurora has never been able to differentiate fantasy from reality, even among the concepts written by specialists in the oneiric. Her vision is commonly disrupted, gradually snatching her away from the environment in which she lives. Locked up in her room, she became an embroidery expert; at only fourteen years old, she was already capable of making great works with only thread and needles.
This activity kept her busy, focused, and consistent before she fell into the sudden and subtle embrace of the world of dreams. The town where she resided was very small; there were only five hundred people at most. Everyone knew young Aurora and what she was suffering from. Although it was already quite common, people were disturbed that the poor girl would suddenly fall asleep. She was always accompanied by her nanny, who protected her from any calamity that might befall her because of her condition.
Her ailment was not something out of this world, but what was behind it. When Aurora slept, she could connect with people through her dreams. She could feel their emotions, sensations, and experiences as if they were her reality. She could not differentiate between what was true and what was imaginary. A feeling that stimulated more fear than wonder, she often wanted to confess to her nana what was happening, but preferred to keep it to herself.
One morning, while she was knitting a large quilt for her mother, her nana began to watch her carefully. She sensed that something was distracting her and began to ask her questions.
"Are you all right, child? You look strange." Nanny asked.
“No... I... I was just thinking.” Aurora hesitated, poking the needle into the quilt with little precision.
“I know you and I know something is troubling you, tell me, what's wrong?”
Aurora pursed her lips and shook her head, then went back to concentrating on the quilt.
“Well, if we're going to have secrets between us, I won't tell you what your mother gave me for you,” Nana said, trying to manipulate her.
“My mother left me a present?”
“Yes, but I mustn't tell you anything, it's a secret.” Sentenced the nana, folding her lips sarcastically as she spun.
Aurora sighed, hesitant to tell her nana about her dream. Both she and her mother downplayed the extraordinary thing happening to her as part of the narcolepsy and medications.
“It's just another dream I had; one of those vivid ones where I don't know real from imaginary.” She confessed sheepishly.
"Those dreams you have seem interesting to me, even if your mother thinks otherwise. Tell me, what did you dream this time?"
Aurora took a moment to think and swallowed a mouthful of saliva.
"I dreamed I was on the bridge here in town. It was at night, and I was carrying a huge black suitcase. It was very heavy and I dropped it into the river. I kept looking down until the current caused the suitcase to be lost.
"Then it was daylight, I was walking along the river bank, and that's when I found the suitcase again. I felt very scared, so I picked it up and buried it in the middle of the forest. After that, the dream turned into a recurring walk into the forest. I would return again and again to the place where I had buried the suitcase and then caress its surface. I felt so much sadness and regret. I was drowning. I could not stop crying. And after I got it off my chest, I would walk away from that place, and that's when I would wake up."
“What a strange dream!” Nana exclaimed, paling. “Where exactly was the suitcase buried?”
“Almost at the end of the stony path in the woods, off to one side,” Aurora replied.
The nanny shuddered in fright, threw the quilt on the floor, and left the room suddenly. Aurora, astonished, went after her and asked her what was wrong. The nanny did not answer her; she was on the phone talking to the police, then hung up and approached Auror, placing her hand gently on her head.
“Calm down, daughter, everything will be all right,” Nana murmured and then gave her a hug.
Hours later, word spread through town that the body of a missing boy had been found. His body was in a black suitcase, just as Aurora had described it in her dream. The nanny took the girl to the scene, and both were shocked. The police questioned them, but omitted the fantastic details. Aurora no longer kept the secret to herself from that day on, but now she had someone to trust.
THE END
