Parto 0: La Nesto. 00: La Koŝmaro

Sweat plastered my hair to my forehead. The nightmare again. It was getting clearer, sharper. There wasn’t much time left. I had to go through it one last time.

My mother gives me a hug and a kiss before they lay me down to sleep. I drift off, but then… a jolt. Something cold, like metal, presses against my wrists, my arms, my back. The darkness is thick, suffocating. I try to move, but I feel heavy, like I am sinking into mud. A buzzing starts in my ears, and then… the cold intensifies, a burning cold that makes my bones ache. And through the buzzing, I see them. Three red circles, burning in the darkness. This time, I could almost… make out the shape behind them… something large… something… almost…

I took out the sketchbook. Its soft, worn cover, the pages inside filled with scribbles and notes, some crumpled, some torn. Only one page left. It felt heavy in my hands, like it held all my secrets.

I had the urge to draw the three circles on the whole page, but I couldn’t waste it. There was still something important I had to put in there. I sighed.

“Okay, then.”

I tried to smooth the crumpled corner of the last page, but my fingers kept slipping. The waking-up music started playing and my stomach clenched. Even though I had been awake for a couple of hours, the happy rhythm increasing in volume made it somehow tangible. Three more days left.

Only three days. Where did the last year go?

I looked at the sketchbook again. I couldn’t believe I filled it all up and still couldn’t get to anything solid. I skimmed through it. A lot of nothing. A mess of scribbles, half-formed ideas, dead ends. It looked like the work of a crazy person. A kid playing detective. And, damn, I wasted a lot of space on those circles, didn’t I? Whatever they are. Or mean.

What if Indigo was right and it was just a stupid dream? Everything else in the sketchbook had a simple explanation.

The “ventilation system map” wasn’t complete. So, even if I thought the vents could lead to something, the map was useless. It was like a treasure map for an island without a treasure.

All the observations about the changes I had noticed through La Nesto were mere “I kind of remember this was different from the other day” things. I’m sure Indigo would find an obvious explanation for all of them.

There was also the “hidden cameras map,” but were they hidden at all? We could see a ton of cameras; what was the point of hiding more? And that’s how our parents were checking on us while we became adults, so why was I giving it that much importance?

Then, when I thought I would not finish my work before I left, I added puzzles “to whoever finds this diary.” And, of course, I’d coded everything, just in case an Instruisto found it. Boy, was I an amazing detective.

“You’re bored, Arakil. You’re seeing things that aren’t there and thinking things that make no sense because you want an adventure. But you’re just being impatient. You can have your adventure when you go to La Granda Ekstero. Let’s stop with these stories and instead go on a real adventure together. I will be waiting for you.”

Indigo’s words echoed in my head. Indigo had never lied to me, and they seemed to know everything. At least everything I asked them. So I had no reason to believe they wouldn’t be waiting for me, as they said. And yet, I couldn’t stop thinking they wouldn’t be there when I left La Nesto.

That was why I started writing in the sketchbook, so I could prove Indigo that my nightmare meant something. That the hidden cameras amounted to something… That there was something hidden in the vents. Prove them I wasn’t crazy.

I slammed the sketchbook on the table. I could end it all by showing it to Kanako. Not because I thought they would believe me. In fact, I could imagine their incredulous face as they read it. In my mind, I could hear their voice, that high, teasing tone: “If this was a present for me, you could have hidden it. That way, it would have felt more mysterious.”

I would say it was just a joke and we would laugh about it, then I would destroy it. I would leave and see Indigo, who was waiting for me as promised.

But maybe I was crazy. So instead, I followed the same routine I had been following the last six years. I came out of my room, went to have breakfast with the others, attended all my classes, then went to the garden.

Osiris asked me if I wanted to take a walk with them. It was so out of character for them to talk to someone, much less to ask something, so I agreed.

We went around the entire area, passing the six Ĉeloj. We saw the kids from those other Ĉeloj, playing, and I wondered if the other five that were going to La Granda Ekstero with me were also worried. Probably not.

“Do you think there are even more animals outside?” Osiris asked, their voice a whisper.

“I… There must be,” I mumbled, trying to sound like I knew what I was talking about. “We’ve read about some we haven’t seen here, haven’t we?”

“Can you… write me a letter telling me about them? After you leave?” Their eyes, usually dull, shone with a faint light.

I nodded. They looked down at their feet, then up at me again.

“You know… I… I wanted to talk to you more…”

“It’s okay, Osiris,” I said, trying to reassure them. “We’ll talk lots. We’ll all be waiting for you,” I repeated Indigo’s promise.

“Even Gabino?” Their eyes widened. I knew what they were thinking. No one would describe Gabino as patient.

“I’ll make sure they’re there too,” I said, trying to sound confident. “But knowing them, they’ll be complaining about having to wait.” I lowered my voice and did my best Gabino impression: “What do you mean I have to stay here? You’re not my mom, are you? I’ll go wherever I want. And that place is right here. How do you like that, huh?”

Osiris let out a small giggle, so quiet I almost didn't hear it. It was the first time I’d ever heard them laugh. Something in my gut told me it was also the last.

We stayed in the garden, watching the sky deepen from a pale blue to a dusky violet. The first stars appeared through the fading light, tiny pinpoints of white against the vast canvas. Osiris retreated into their silence, their gaze fixed on some distant point beyond La Nesto. My thoughts engulfed me, the weight of my impending departure pressing down on me. I traced patterns in the dirt with my toe, trying to distract myself from the unsettling feeling in my gut.

Night came, and the Instruistoj left, the signal for us to return to our Ĉeloj. Kanako and Gabino passed next to us, arguing about something or another. Osiris looked at me, and saying nothing, went ahead. I wondered if they knew I was up to something.

Before I went back to my room in Ĉelo Kvar, I went and hid the sketchbook. I slipped it between the loose panel behind the heating unit and the wall. It was a tight fit, but it was perfect. It wasn’t in any of the cameras’ field of view, including the hidden ones. At least, I hoped it wasn’t.

I was crazy. And there was no more time.