English Version
She was running, she could not find a way out, meanwhile she was being chased and arrived at the church where she used to go as a child, in a long and dark corridor she was looking for an open door, to hide.
Finally, the bathroom door was unlocked, she entered and kept silent, the worst was just beginning.
While she was looking towards the door, waiting for her executioner to open it, behind her water began to flow, as if it were a fountain.
The walls moved and the bathroom became a room, dirty, dark and damp, suddenly the falling water became a well, where the girl fell.
As she submerged herself in those deep waters, she tried to get to the surface, but something grabbed her feet and would not let her escape, sinking her in that terrible darkness.
As best she could, she managed to free herself and get out of that well, she left that bath, running down the corridor, looking for a way out. When she reached the doors of the church, they were closed.
The young woman did not want to look back, she felt it was coming closer, she could hear its terrifying screams, full of hate.
Then, she woke up and realized that the nightmare had just begun.
Versión Español
Fuente
Corriendo va, no encuentra una salida, mientras tanto la persiguen y llega a la iglesia a dónde iba de niña, en un pasillo largo y oscuro buscaba una puerta abierta, para ocultarse.
Al fin, la puerta del baño no tenía seguro, entró y se mantuvo en silencio, lo peor apenas comenzaba.
Mientras ella miraba hacia la puerta, esperando que su verdugo la abriera, detrás de ella comenzó a correr agua, como si de una fuente se tratará.
Las paredes se movieron y el baño se convirtió en una habitación, sucia, oscura y húmeda, de pronto el agua que caía se transformó en un pozo, donde la chica cayó.
Mientras se sumergía en esas aguas Profundas, buscaba salir a la superficie, pero algo la tomó por los pies y no la dejaba escapar, la hundía en aquella terrible oscuridad.
Como pudo logró soltarse y salir de ese pozo, salió de aquel baño, corriendo por el pasillo, buscando una salida. Al llegar a las puertas de la iglesia, estas estaban cerradas.
La joven no quería mirar atrás, sentía que venía cerca, podía oír sus gritos aterradores, cargados de odio.
Entonces, despertó y se dio cuenta, que la pesadilla apenas comenzaba.
This short story is by me. There are dreams that are simply not dreams, because to have a nightmare, you don't always have to be asleep.
Este microrrelato es mi autoría. Hay sueños que simplemente no son sueños, ya que para tener una pesadilla,no siempre debes estar dormido.
