viernes, 18 de enero de 2013
36- Historias para no dormir (1 mayo 2003)
Me van a permitir un pequeño salto en el tiempo, hacia adelante, antes de que les cuente la segunda parte de mi viaje a Londres.
Hoy me levanté con la sangre nostálgica corriendo por mis venas. Comencé a abrir las cajas que contienen pedazos de mi vida. Cajas de plástico transparente, llenas de libros, fotos, objetos inservibles, recuerdos que debí tirar hace tiempo y vacíos que no supe cómo llenar.
Entre tanto cachivache hallé una libreta grande, de anillas, con sus hojas alineadas. Mi vieja libreta de writing. Como parte de nuestra preparación, para el examen del First Certificate in English, la escritura era una de las tareas principales: essays, reports, articles, journals and short stories.
Este es uno de los mini-relatos que escribí en aquellos días. Por favor, no sean ustedes muy severos a la hora de puntuar mi inglés de aquella etapa (a pesar de estar corregido por la profesora, se nota pobre y rudimentario). Pero es parte de mi historia, de mi experiencia. Ahora lo leo desde arriba, como desde otro planeta. Me hace sonreir. Cierro los ojos y me veo en aquella clase. Concentrado. Tratando de volcar sobre el papel de lineas lo que bullía en mi mente. Intentando que el pequeño interruptor en mi cerebro se pusiera en la posición: English On.
(Pequeña aclaración: el término Hot lo usan mucho para referirse a comida “picante”. No significa “caliente” en este contexto).
The following story happened to my dear friend Katie and when she told me I became speechless.
It was a really bad night. The wind was blowing outside hitting the windows with great force. Outside in the street it was absolutely dark because the street lamps were off because of the storm. The rain fell heavily and she could hear it hitting the windows and the roof of her flat. She was reading a book in bed with a couple of candles because there were no lights in the house either.
Her flatmate, Kelly, had left the flat to have fun with some friends. But Katie stayed at home because she felt a wee bit sick. Her stomach was killing her.
− I´ll never eat hot pizza again. I swear to God!− She said to herself.
Little by little she felt her eyes getting heavier and heavier... and finally she fell asleep.
Suddenly she woke up. She was wet with sweat. She had had a horrible nightmare. She got up from bed and went to the toilet.
− Damn stomach! − She thought.
While she was sitting on the toilet, she could hear some steps on the other side of the door that was locked. Then, the handle turned down.
−Wait a minute Kelly! – She said thinking her friend has already arrived. It was 2.15 in the morning. – Tomorrow you´ll have a hell of a hangover, baby − She thought.
When she finished she washed her hands and went out into the corridor. It was completely dark. She used one of the candles from the bathroom to see by.
− Kelly, I´ve finished! – She said in a loud voice. But there was no answer.
Then, she went into Kelly´s bedroom... it was empty and her bed was tidy with all of her dolls on the top looking at her as if they were laughing at her.
− I hate those bloody dolls – She said aloud.
She checked the kitchen... nothing. Then she went to the living room... darkness and emptiness as well.
She checked the street-door. It was locked and the key was in the lock.
She run to her room absolutely pale and frightened. She crept into the bed and began to pray.
She was alone in the flat.