Page 8 of Morena
We have a saying for women like her, women with dark and striking beauty. We call themmorena.No word could hold her, but still the whisper left my mouth.
“Morena.”
This time, she turned. Her eyes locked with mine. They filled as though with tears, yet no water fell. Blood slipped down her cheeks. Her bronze skin paled and drained to a grayish hue. The storm in her eyes turned white. When I blinked, she was suddenly in front of me, screaming.
My heart thundered. For a moment, I thought this was heaven, but heaven was turning into hell.
Her voice cut through the roar.“Niño perdido, si me deseas de regreso, pronuncia mi nombre dos veces más.”6
Her name.
What was her name? What if I did not want to go back? What if I wanted to stay?
But my lips parted, and her scream tore through my ear. The high-pitched voice made my eardrum ache and bleed. I had no choice but to guess.
“Morena.”
I called hertwice.The screaming stopped.
She began to drift away. The beach dissolved into a black swamp. Crows circled overhead, their cries shrill, and the mud pulled at my legs until I could not move.
What is happening? What is happening to me?
The crows landed on my shoulders. One pecked my cheek, sharp enough to draw blood. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing it to end.
7“¡Oh, ojos tristes, si temes perder tu visión, pronuncia mi nombre una vez más!”
I shouted with everything in me.
“Morena!”
And I was back in the basement. My lungs gasped for air. My chest heaved. I coughed hard, dragging reality back from the twisted dream. Splintered shelves surrounded me. I must have fallen on them when I crashed through the staircase.
As I struggled to my feet, I saw the black porcelain urn. Shards of it glittered across the floor. When I knelt, I noticed the scratches carved into the pieces. They were not marks from outside. They came from within. Nails had scraped the name over and over.
MORENA.
Impossible.
The room grew colder. In the far corner, a mirror leaned against the brick wall. Its surface rippled as though something moved inside it. My heart hammered. My eyes widened. I took a step closer.
In the reflection, behind me, a shadow crouched low. Black curls hid its face. Long, blackened nails scraped the floor.
It was her. I knew it was her.
But she didn’t look at me. She remained still while I stood frozen. My body couldn’t move. Then her laughter broke the silence, louder and louder, crawling toward me like a voice with claws.
I could feel her cold inches from me, yet she didn’t touch me.
I couldn’t speak.
“Matteo.” Carlos’s voice drifted down from upstairs. “Matteo.”
“Here!” I shouted, eyes squeezed shut.
8“Dios mío,are you all right?“ His shadow stretched across the floor from above.
I turned, not for him but for her. She was gone.
