The night slowly slid through the city of Santa Elena Astra in the San Francisco district. With heavy eyelids, Emily struggled to free herself from the distressing dreams that had plagued her mind for the past month. The disturbing images clung to her consciousness like an unbreakable vice—an anonymous man with a cap and glasses perpetrating acts of violence at dawn. Two red-haired women presented themselves in her mind: one sitting on a throne of black wings with twisted horns, and the other an angel extending her hand with a staff. The dark circles beneath her eyes were silent witnesses of her insomnia.
The streets held little importance to her; she only remembered the path to her destination. She walked for ten minutes to reach the local metro station, traveled three stops for another ten minutes, and finally walked another ten minutes from the station to her school, known as San Bartolomeo, in the same district where she lived.
A skeptical gaze settled on her surroundings, as if mistrusting every shadow and ethereal figure that slid around her. Emily had become solitary and detached from her classmates, who preferred to avoid her or cast sidelong glances her way. Her silence and constant avoidance of eye contact generated discomfort among her close companions, and she sought refuge in her oversized headphones.
With each passing day, her desperation grew. The deep web became her sanctuary, where she found twisted theories and warning messages in her inbox. She knew that something sinister was brewing.
It was the first day of the week, and in the first period, the prefect Dolores entered the classroom during Professor Amelia's class to announce the dreaded parent-teacher meeting, where progress reports would be presented. This news distressed Emily, as her grades had suffered a significant decline. As tension grew, the social dynamics began to change when her classmate from across the room, Renata, a slim girl with fair brown skin, revealed that she had also received low grades. Both of them shared their anguish with the girls sitting beside them, Lucia and Elena, two lighter-skinned Latina girls obsessed with their mobile phones and trapped in internet trends, barely meeting the acceptable academic requirements. It was the first time they engaged in a conversation among themselves, and Emily discovered that they shared the same distress about their classes.
- Sometimes I work at my grandmother's store. My mom passed away when I was five, fighting against cancer, and well, my dad works all day." Renata begins to share.
- Oh, I'm so sorry about your mom. It must have been tough growing up without her. And how do you manage with work and school? - Lucia responds while looking at Renata.
- It's challenging, but my grandmother is very understanding and flexible. I work on weekends and some afternoons after school," Renata says, looking down at the ground.
- I live near the school, just a few blocks away. I walk about ten minutes to get there. My mom is a housewife and she takes me every day. My dad travels constantly for his job. He's a corporate accounting manager at Vanguard Banking Corporation," Elena recounts as she looks at her new friends.
- How lucky to have the school so close, Elena! My mom also works from home as a translator, while my dad is an accounting manager at Unity Bank. He's sometimes late, though. I imagine your dad still earns more," Emily replies to Elena.
- You know, my dad is a merchant. He has always been in business, and my mom is a housewife. Her vision is more traditional. We can barely afford school, but luckily, the metro runs through the entire city, allowing me to arrive on time to school, even though I live in the Milpa Alta district, an hour away," Lucia shares with her friends.
- It must be challenging," Renata responds.
As these stories intertwine, it becomes clear that each of us has our own struggles and challenges in this vast city of appearances and inequalities. Although Emily felt uncomfortable engaging in conversations with other people, as any introvert would, she noticed that something was changing. Stepping away from pretending to be asleep or wearing her headphones allowed her to immerse herself in her new friends' conversations. She observed how they laughed and shared videos on their phones, showing each other different memes they found. Despite responding with simple phrases like "Yes, how fun" or "That's fine," she felt more connected to Renata.
Renata was somewhat introverted like her, but Emily could tell that she treated her like a younger sister, showing understanding towards her reserved nature. She always intervened when uncomfortable questions like "Why are you like that?" "Do you like someone?" "Can you dance?" "Do you have a boyfriend?" "Why are you so serious?" or "Why don't you smile?" arose in conversation. She would say, "Nosy, aren't they?" and that brought her great relief.
As the dismissal time approached, her new friends said their goodbyes and headed home. Emily, on the other hand, made her way to the alley where the shaman was. She needed to silence the sudden voices and calm the ethereal figures that surrounded her. While walking, she spotted Antonio jumping rope in the schoolyard and greeted him from a distance.
With the company of her friends and a clearer mind, Emily managed to distract herself from the voices and began to observe her surroundings more attentively. At that moment, she realized that the shaman's alley was located within a market called Victoria, a two-story building with a baroque style. The plants in the market seemed to tell their own story, enveloping her in an aura of mystery and fascination.
As she ventured further into the market, she felt the atmosphere changing as she walked through narrow and bustling aisles. The hustle and bustle of vendors and customers echoed in her ears, creating a symphony of sounds and voices that seemed to narrate forgotten tales.
Finally, she reached the end of the aisle and found the entrance to the shaman's alley. A trail of incense wafted through the air, creating an atmosphere full of mysticism. The creaking wooden door opened, revealing the dark interior filled with enigmatic objects.
The shaman was there, sitting in a worn-out chair, surrounded by books and ancient artifacts. He looked at Emily, seeing her aura, her physical and mental weariness.
"Welcome, Emily," said the shaman with a deep and resonant voice. "I have sensed your presence since you crossed the thresholds of this market. I see that you are in search of something more than the objects displayed in these aisles. What has brought you here?"
Emily took a deep breath, gathering the necessary courage to express her deepest concerns.
"I seek answers, shaman. Answers about my dreams, my abilities, and my purpose in this world. They wear down my mind and prevent me from sleeping."
"You know, I was not born a psychic," said the shaman in a calm voice. "I made a deal with a demon. I gave it my name in life and my soul in death. But I will not reveal the name of the demon, for it does not come from my ancestors. It comes from a different continent, from other moments, from other stories. And although you are psychic, I do not know how you became one, or why your aura feels incomplete."
Emily listened attentively, feeling curiosity taking hold of her.
"I obtained my abilities because I used an experimental neural synapse, one that is planned to be sold to people. You see, it got infected with an internet virus. I fear I have misused it," explained Emily.
As the shaman remained seated, he slowly stroked his chin.
"I have never heard of such a way to become psychic. Undoubtedly, there is something more, something hiding in the darkness."
"I have discovered that when I connect my mind to the neural synapse," Emily explained, "my senses become enhanced. I can sense how spirits and demons hide within the internet networks. In my desperate search to become normal again, I have found people like me, capable of feeling their presence, even if they cannot perceive them directly. It's as if we can communicate—a strange sensation because we are not physically together, just wanderers in those networks."
The shaman nodded with understanding.
"Nightmares and people's auras are signals of a hidden world that few can see. Auras emit colors and diverse sensations, revealing the essence of each individual. Tell me more about the unsettling aura of that person on the subway, the one who was chasing a woman."
Emily took a deep breath, recalling that disturbing encounter.
"His aura emanated darkness and malevolence," Emily recounted with a trembling voice. "It was a threatening presence. A month ago, he stood next to me on the subway, and I could feel his wickedness. Later on, a few stations away, I saw the same person near a cliff. His presence... filled me with fear."
The shaman nodded slowly, as if the pieces of a puzzle were starting to fit together.
"There are forces beyond our everyday world—spirits, demons, and presences that hide in the shadows. You have awakened that special gift within you that allows you to see beyond the visible. Now, we must discover what all this means and how you can use it to find your path."
The shaman looked at Emily intensely, recognizing the strength of their connection despite the short time they had spent together.
"Our destinies are deeply intertwined, Emily," said the shaman in a serene tone. "Beyond our ability to know and perceive each other, there is a connection that transcends the earthly realm."
He sat in front of her and asked her to take deep breaths as the scent of incense filled the room. The atmosphere became charged with mystical energy, and she felt her mind opening up to new possibilities.
The shaman began reciting words in an ancient language, whispering:
"In tlilli, in tlapalli,
in tonatiuh, in miztli,
in tlacochtli, in yollo,
in cualli, in xochitl."
Emily listened to the words attentively, feeling how they resonated within her being. The shaman explained the meaning of each word:
"The earth, the color, the sun, the death, the war, the heart, the good, the flower."
"In xochitl in cuicatl,
in yollo in cualli,
in tonatiuh in tepetl,
in ehecatl in tlalli."
"The flower is song, the heart is fire, the sun is mountain, the wind is earth."
The shaman's words resonated deep within Emily, as if awakening an ancient wisdom within her. Gradually, she began to feel an astral connection, as if their spirits were soaring above the tangible world.
The invisible threads that wove reality were revealed, the existence of higher planes, and the interconnection of all things.
Tlaltícpac, the invisible fabric that connected all beings.
With ancestral wisdom, the shaman began reciting the words with captivating solemnity:
"In tonalli, in yollotl: 'The warmth, the heart'. In tlalticpac: 'The earth'. In tlamatini: 'The wise one'. In xochitl in cuicatl: 'The flower, the song'. In tloque nahuaque: 'The lord of the near and the far'."
Each word resonated in the air, charged with meaning and power.
The
shaman continued his discourse, sharing his knowledge with Emily:
"There are things I can teach you in my oral teachings of shamanism. I
want you to observe that these threads are only revealed to those who
are willing to see them. You have become willing out of necessity, and
now you must decide what you will do. You can ignore them, pretend they
are hallucinations, but they will persist inevitably. You see, being
psychic is something some are born with, but if they do not control it,
they will end up being possessed by undesirable entities, and ultimately
lost in the maelstrom of madness. However, those of us who seek it,
whether through pacts with demons or other means, accept the risks. I do
not know what has happened with the new technology or the impending
end, but you can see it as an attack against you or as an opportunity
for redemption and a reason to live, to continue, and to accept it."
The shaman's words resonated deeply within Emily, opening her mind to a new level of understanding. She was aware that her destiny was intertwined with the mysteries of Tlaltícpac, and she had to face them with courage and determination.
At the end of the session, the shaman gave Emily two significant books
as gifts.
"This book is Buddhist, it's very popular, I hope it helps you," said
the shaman as he handed her the first book. "And this other one is a
compilation of what some people have been able to gather about the
rituals of my ancestors. In them, you will find ways to control your
mind. For now, it's the only thing I can give you. When you're ready, I
can teach you what I know."
Emily received the books with gratitude and promised to make the most of
their wisdom. She bid farewell to the shaman and returned home to her
mother. She handed her mother the summons for the grade presentation
scheduled for Wednesday and decided to show her report card, which
reflected a decrease in her grades.
"It's the change of city; I haven't fully adapted yet. I promise to
improve," Emily said to her mother, seeking understanding.
"Emily, I don't want to scold you, but just remember the sacrifices we
make for you. We want you to choose your own life, but we also want you
to develop yourself. On Wednesday, I'll talk to your teachers to see how
we can help you," her mother replied with a tone of concern and
support.
They looked at each other, reflecting both understanding and
disappointment, while Emily lowered her gaze, feeling the weight of
responsibility. Although there was no direct reproach in that
uncomfortable moment, they had dinner as a family and discussed her
grades.
"I trust that you'll bounce back, Emily," her father said with a smile,
trying to inspire her.
At the end of the day, the conversation with the shaman had left a
profound impression on Emily's heart. That night, before going to sleep,
she meditated in silence, seeking to silence the nightmares that
plagued her. To her surprise, she dreamt peacefully that night,
surrounded by tranquil landscapes that sheltered her.
However, upon waking up, she heard the desperate screams of a woman, the
same woman who had haunted her nightmares.
"Help me not to die, save me, find me."
...
To be continued.
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