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Abrió los ojos, miró el pedazo de papel y sonrió. La sonrisa se extendió por su rostro como la luz de una lámpara. Como si fuera una señal de aprobación, el sol salió de detrás de las nubes. Tomó otra hoja de papel y comenzó a escribir de nuevo.
Su nombre era John Emerson. Tenía 13 años, pero parecía más joven que su edad. De hecho, la gente a menudo lo confunde con tener 10 o 9 años. Tiene el pelo castaño corto que cubre la mitad de su frente y siempre se ve un poco desordenado. Sus ojos son azul oscuro y se ven tristes cuando no tiene una sonrisa en su rostro. Son lo suficientemente grandes como para ser considerados lindos, especialmente porque están enmarcados por pestañas largas.
John es uno de esos niños que rara vez sonríe, sin embargo, cuando lo hace, se puede ver la alegría en sus ojos. Pero a pesar de esto, John no es popular entre otros niños. Esto se debe a que la mayoría de las personas lo encuentran intimidante o extraño. No muchos saben cómo acercarse a él, por lo que suelen evitarlo. Y cuando hablan con él, sus voces tienden a temblar.
No siempre fue así. Cuando era más pequeño, era una persona extrovertida. Era amigable y siempre hacía nuevos amigos. Entonces, un día, algo cambió. Una noche, se despertó y no podía recordar nada de sí mismo. Ni siquiera reconoció a sus propios padres por un tiempo, pero sabía que tenía que fingir que todo era normal. Siempre se sintió en peligro y dejó de confiar en nadie más, solo sintiéndose seguro dentro de su propia mente.
Pero a pesar de todo esto, John nunca ha sido más feliz. Ha creado un mundo donde puede vivir cualquier fantasía que quiera. Está lleno de criaturas mágicas y paisajes fantásticos. Los ha imaginado a todos y ahora finalmente puede vivir dentro de ellos, o eso piensa.
Es una tarde lluviosa. John se sienta en el suelo junto a su escritorio, mirando la ventana. Las gotas de lluvia caen del cielo, golpeando el suelo y haciendo pequeñas salpicaduras. También hay truenos, aunque suenen lejano.
— Los días lluviosos son mis favoritos, se dice John a sí mismo. — Me recuerdan a las historias que solía leer cuando era más pequeño.
John mete la mano debajo de su cama, saca un libro y lo coloca sobre la mesa. Se llama Las Crónicas de los Dragones: Volumen 1. La portada presenta a un dragón sentado en la cima de una montaña. Sus alas están extendidas ampliamente, como si tratara de proteger su territorio. Sobre el dragón está escrito: "¡Para los fanáticos de Harry Potter!"
John toma el libro, lo abre y comienza a leer. No es un volumen muy grueso, pero la historia es convincente. John ya lo ha leído tres veces.
Cuando termina la última página, John cierra el libro, se levanta y camina hacia su ventana. Mira hacia afuera, admirando la vista. Hay un árbol frente a su casa. En las ramas, las aves vuelan alrededor, buscando comida. Más allá de los árboles, puede ver casas, carreteras y automóviles que se mueven lentamente por las calles. Parece un lugar tranquilo.
John vuelve a poner el libro debajo de su cama, va a la cocina y se prepara un poco de té. Luego regresa a su habitación y lo bebe mientras ve la televisión, ignora a la bruja parada junto a su televisor. Ella siempre está ahí pero nunca hace nada interesante, solo lo mira fijamente y a veces habla con él.
Entonces John nota algo extraño. Un objeto grande está cayendo del cielo. Viene directamente hacia su casa. Corre afuera, lejos del árbol, y observa cómo el objeto golpea el suelo. Excepto que no pasa nada, tan pronto como el objeto llega al suelo, desaparece frente a sus ojos. Está confundido, pero continúa con su día. Cosas extrañas como esta son normales en sus actividades cotidianas. Es por eso que muchos de los otros niños en la escuela piensan que es raro.
He opened his eyes, looked at the piece of paper, and smiled. The smile spread across his face like the light from a lamp. As if it was a sign of approval, the sun came out from behind the clouds. He took another sheet of paper and started writing again.
His name was John Emerson. He was 13 years old, but he looked younger than his age. In fact, people often mistake him for being 10 or 9. He has short brown hair that covers half of his forehead and it always looks a bit messy. His eyes are dark blue and look sad when he doesn't have a smile on his face. They're large enough to be considered cute, especially since they're framed by long eyelashes.
John is one of those kids who rarely smiles, however, when he does, you can see the joy in his eyes. But despite this, John isn't popular with other children. This is because most people find him intimidating or weird. Not many know how to approach him, so they usually avoid him. And when they do talk to him, their voices tend to tremble.
This wasn't always the case. When he was younger, he was an outgoing person. He was friendly and would always make new friends. Then one day, something changed. One night, he woke up and couldn't remember anything about himself. He didn't even recognize his own parents for a while but he knew he had to pretend everything was normal. He always felt in danger and he stopped trusting anyone else, only feeling safe inside his own mind.
But despite all of this, John has never been happier. He has created a world where he can live out whatever fantasy he wants. It's filled with magical creatures and fantastic landscapes. He has imagined them all and now he can finally live inside them, or so he thinks.
It's a rainy afternoon. John sits on the floor next to his desk, staring at the window. Raindrops fall down from the sky, hitting the ground and making little splashes. There's thunder too, although it sounds distant.
— Rainy days are my favorite, John says to himself. — They remind me of the stories I used to read when I was younger.
John reaches under his bed, takes out a book, and places it on the table. It's called The Chronicles of the Dragons: Volume 1. The cover features a dragon sitting on top of a mountain. Its wings are spread wide, as if trying to protect its territory. Above the dragon is written, 'For fans of Harry Potter!'
John picks up the book, opens it, and starts reading. It's not a very thick volume, but the story is compelling. John has already read it three times.
When he finishes the last page, John closes the book, gets up, and walks over to his window. He looks out, admiring the view. There's a tree in front of his house. On the branches, birds are flying around, looking for food. Beyond the trees, he can see houses, roads, and cars moving slowly along the streets. It seems like a peaceful place.
John puts the book back under his bed, goes to the kitchen, and makes himself some tea. He then returns to his room and drinks it while watching television, he ignores the witch standing next to his TV. She is always there but she never does anything interesting, she only stares at him and sometimes she talks with him.
Then John notices something strange. A large object is falling from the sky. It's coming straight towards his home. He runs outside, away from the tree, and watches as the object hits the ground. Except nothing happens, as soon as the object reaches the ground it disappears in front of his eyes. He is confused but carries on with his day. Strange stuff like this is normal in his day-to-day activities. That's why many of the other kids at school think he is weird.
— ¿Cómo fue tu día? pregunta su mamá.
— Bien, responde John. — Vi un objeto cayendo del cielo y la bruja estaba al lado de mi televisor como siempre.
Su madre piensa en lo creativa que es la imaginación de John y lo divertido que es escucharlo hablar de ello. Ella no se da cuenta de que algo ha estado seriamente mal con John desde hace bastante tiempo.
— Mamá, voy a salir a caminar, dice John.
— Bien cariño, ten cuidado, responde su madre. — Y no te olvides de volver a casa temprano.
— No te preocupes, lo haré, John miente. — Hasta luego.
John se dirige a la acera y comienza a caminar hacia el parque. Su mente está llena de pensamientos sobre cosas que no son reales. Está cansado de que la gente no lo tome en serio, y por lo tanto, decidió que demostrará a todos que lo que dice es real. Va a un puente alto, completamente concentrado en lo que necesita hacer, y salta. Ha visto gente volando antes, y hubo una noche en que la bruja le dijo que también podía volar, así que pensó que también podría intentarlo.
No sabía que su mente no estaba del todo sana y que lo que mucha gente confundió con imaginaciones normales de un niño, en su caso, eran alucinaciones realistas que lo convencieron de que estaba viviendo en un mundo donde siempre sucedían cosas locas. Era demasiado joven para darse cuenta de que tenía una condición mental, y sus padres siempre estaban ocupados por sus propios trabajos y solo pensaban que John tenía una imaginación salvaje pero nada peligrosa.
Cuando el niño estaba cayendo a su muerte, no entendía por qué no podía volar, estaba confundido y luego todo se volvió negro.
— How was your day? his mom asks.
— Fine, John replies. — I saw an object falling from the sky and the witch was next to my TV as always.
Her mother thinks about how creative John's imagination is and how funny it is to hear him talking about it. She doesn't realize that something has been seriously wrong with John since quite some time.
— Mom, I'm going out for a walk, John says.
— Okay honey, be careful, his mother responds. — And don't forget to come home early.
— Don't worry, I will, John lies. — See you later.
John heads to the sidewalk and begins walking toward the park. His mind is full of thoughts about things that aren't real. He is tired of people not taking him seriously, and therefore, he decided he will prove to everyone that what he says is real. He goes to a tall bridge, completely focused on what he needs to do, and jumps. He has seen people flying before, and there was one night when the witch told him he could fly as well so he figured he might as well try it.
He didn't know that his mind wasn't entirely healthy and that what many people mistook for normal imaginations from a child, in his case, it was realistic hallucinations that convinced him he was living in a world where crazy things were always happening. He was too young to realize he had a mental condition, and his parents were always preoccupied with his own jobs and they just thought John had a wild imagination but nothing dangerous.
As the boy was falling to his death, he didn't understand why he couldn't fly, he was confused and then everything went black.
Other fictional stories of my authorship
Otros relatos de ficción de mi autoría
About DedicatedguyWriting about various topics, learning about the ever-expanding crypto world, and doing a little bit of trading is how I spend most of my days. My preferred forms of entertainment are films, series, European football, and a good book from time to time. I chose "dedicatedguy" as my username to constantly remind myself about the importance of consistency and dedication in order to achieve any desired result we might want in life. If this post provided something of value to you, any type of positive interaction such as a comment, reblog, or upvote is highly appreciated. ❤️ |  |