"Insecurity is not a state we are born with, but one we learn throughout our lives."
— David D. Burns
The campus buzzed with energy. Laughter, footsteps, new voices.
Ailín walked through the hallways, books pressed against her chest, trying to appear calm. She felt that familiar twinge in her stomach: a mixture of excitement and fear.
"No distractions," she told herself, adjusting her bag. "Just study. Graduate."
"Sure," whispered a soft voice in her ear. "Why complicate things with new people when you already know how that ends?"
Ailín sighed, keeping her pace steady.
"Hi, Oscurita." You again?
"Always," replied the shadow in an almost affectionate tone. "I wouldn't miss your first day. Someone has to look after you."
…
The first few weeks flew by.
Ailín excelled in class: disciplined, responsible, her talent for writing quickly noticed by teachers. But where she truly shone was on the court.
Volleyball was her refuge.
There, she could move freely, without fear of stumbling or disappointing anyone. Each jump felt like a small victory against the invisible weight she carried.
"Look at that," whispered Oscurita from the shadows of the gym. "So confident, so brave. You look like a different person."
"Maybe I am," Ailín replied, wiping the sweat from her forehead.
"Don't exaggerate, sweetie. You know it won't last. But enjoy it while you can," Oscurita said, her voice sugary but sharp. "I'll wait for you here."
From the stands, Dylan watched silently. His friends joked around, but he barely noticed them. There was something about that new girl—her focus, the serenity in her movements, the way she smiled at her own effort. Without realizing it, he was beginning to memorize her.
…
A couple of days later, Andrea, the team captain, approached Ailín with an excited smile.
"Ailín, guess who asked about you."
"Me?"
"Dylan. The basketball captain. He says he wants to meet you."
Ailín blinked, confused.
"Me? Are you sure he's not mistaken?"
"Very sure. He even said he admires how you play."
Her heart leapt, and then a shadow settled over her chest.
"Oh, my girl," said Oscurita, in an almost maternal tone. "You always fall for that."
"For what?" whispered Ailín.
"For thinking someone could see you that way—as if you were worthy of admiration. I don't blame you. It's nice to imagine… but don't make a fool of yourself, okay?"
"I'm not going to make a fool of myself," she said through clenched teeth.
"I know. That's why I'm reminding you. I just want to protect you."
And at that moment, memories began to stir.
…
An afternoon in her teenage years.
The mirror, the hair dryer, the scent of her friends' perfume filled the room. They were preparing to go out with some new boys.
Ailín carefully straightened her hair, trying not to stand out.
Then one of the girls—a friend of the boys—leaned close and whispered,
"Are you coming with us? You better not. You're kind of… boring. And you don't dress like the others."
The air thickened.
Ailín swallowed hard.
"You're right," she said quietly. "I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable."
So she made up an excuse and stayed home.
That night, Oscurita appeared, perched on the edge of her bed, wearing a sweet smile.
"You did the right thing, sweetie. See? You would have felt uncomfortable. Not everyone deserves to know you. Stay with me, where it's safe."
…
Back in the present, Ailín held the ball tightly.
"I'm not going to let you stop me this time."
Oscurita laughed softly.
"Stop you? Don't be unfair. I'm just helping you not to stumble. I remind you of your limits… so you don't suffer."
But that night, Ailín didn't sleep well. Oscurita didn't yell or push—she cradled her in gentle thoughts that hurt more than any scream.
…
In the following days, Ailín skipped practice.
She said she had stomach pains, but the truth was anxiety was consuming her. Andrea, worried, came to see her with a cup of tea and a sincere smile.
"We need you, Ailín. It's not the same without you."
"I don't know if I'm ready…" she whispered.
"Then let's make you ready. I don't want to play the qualifier without you."
A lump rose in her throat.
"Thank you…" she finally said. "I'll be back."
That night, as the steam from the tea lingered, Oscurita spoke slowly:
"See what happens when you let them love you a little? You believe it. But when you can't live up to their expectations, I'll be the one picking up the pieces. So don't worry, my girl. I'm never leaving."
Ailín looked at her in the reflection of the window.
"Maybe. But this time, you're not going to stop me."
…
When she returned to the gym, Andrea guided her to the court, where Dylan waited.
Ailín's heart raced.
"Hi," he said, extending a hand. "I'm Dylan."
"Ailín," she replied, barely touching his fingers.
And there was Oscurita, soft, almost conspiratorial, whispering in her mind:
"Look at you… so nervous. I don't blame him for looking at you. But if he gets too close, he'll see what you're hiding. Do you want that?"
Then a memory stabbed her heart.
…
She was ten.
At her birthday party, she laughed under the streamers. Her aunt held her on her lap, stroking her hair.
"She's so cute… but look at her nose," her aunt said, laughing. "It's like a cat's paw. When she grows up, we'll get it fixed so she looks pretty."
Ailín froze. Something felt wrong.
In the corner, Oscurita appeared for the first time, almost imperceptible, like a reflection in the mirror.
"Don't cry, little one," she whispered. "I'm telling you this for your own good. If you don't expect too much from others, it won't hurt as much."
…
Back in the present, Dylan spoke, but Ailín barely heard. Her mind was a murmur between feelings and Oscurita's voice.
When they parted, she barely remembered his name. Oscurita, smiling, walked beside her.
"Well done, my girl. The less you expect, the less it hurts."
…
Over the next days, Dylan kept seeking her out—a greeting here, a smile there. Ailín responded shyly, while inside, a battle raged every time he looked at her.
One day, after practice, he approached.
"Why don't you say hello?"
Ailín looked down.
"I'm sorry… I didn't mean to."
"So… will you say hello to me tomorrow?" he asked with a mischievous smile.
She nodded, and for the first time, she smiled sincerely.
Oscurita, leaning on the railing, whispered,
"What a beautiful smile. I hope they don't break it."
Ailín heard her, but she didn't stop. She looked at the empty court, took a deep breath, and whispered,
"I don't know if they're going to break me, but I don't want to hide anymore."
For the first time, Oscurita didn't answer. She followed silently, like a curious shadow, wondering if maybe she too could learn to live a little in the light.