The Finder

Frank's Past - Chapter 1

Frank lay in the uncomfortable chair at the police station, immersed in a deep slumber. In his mind, a memory from the past began to materialize, as if he were reliving a fragment of his life that had remained hidden for a long time.

In the orphanage, a gray and cold institution, Frank was seated in a small chair in an empty room. In front of him, a false glass separated him from a man with a shadowed face. The room's walls were devoid of decorations or furniture, creating a sterile and desolate environment.

The man, whose face remained in the shadows, didn't utter a word. Instead, he presented Frank with a series of exercises, problems, and intellectual challenges that pushed the boundaries of logic and human understanding. These were puzzles that would challenge the brightest minds in the world and take hours, even days, to solve for most. But for Frank, they were just another exercise.

At that moment, Frank seemed to move like an automaton, solving each problem with the efficiency and precision of a machine. His eyes, injected with seriousness and concentration, analyzed every detail, every number, every pattern, while his mind calculated solutions at an impressive speed. The puzzle pieces fell into place effortlessly, as if his brain were programmed to solve these challenges.

His internal monologue, narrated in an apathetic and logical tone, described the routine of his life at the orphanage. That place wasn't a home in the traditional sense; it was a laboratory, a center for the development of prodigious minds. From a young age, Frank was subjected to intensive and rigorous education. He learned psychology, mathematics, sciences, history; any field of knowledge was his domain. His eidetic memory helped him absorb and retain information effortlessly, and his intellectual capacity was unrivaled.

In the orphanage, human interactions were kept to a minimum. Personal relationships were virtually nonexistent. Frank grew up isolated from his peers, who couldn't keep up with his intellectual pace, and only interacted with those who educated him. The gazes of the man behind the false glass were the only ones Frank came to know, although he never saw his face clearly. It was an environment that promoted solitude, a disconnection from the human, where the child prodigy couldn't find the warmth of a smile or understanding in someone else's eyes.

While solving the exercises, Frank reflected on the emptiness of his existence. He questioned if he could consider himself a human being in the traditional sense. He had been educated to be a logic machine, an tireless intellect that only knew the routine of learning and solving. Emotion, spontaneity, passion, and human interaction had been replaced by formulas, equations, and problems to solve.

After solving the exercises flawlessly, the mysterious man nodded in approval. Frank, at just five years old, barely understood the meaning of those challenging exercises, but his intellectual ability was undeniable. The man took him by the hand and led him to a room that seemed to be the orphanage's cafeteria.

At first glance, the cafeteria resembled that of any other orphanage. There were plastic tables and chairs, small windows that let in the daylight, and a simple atmosphere. Food was served at a counter, and the children lined up with their trays to receive their portions.

However, Frank immediately noticed that his presence was unwelcome. The other children looked at him with suspicion, keeping their distance and refusing to share a table with him. As if they had some kind of natural instinct telling them that Frank was not like them, that he was different.

Frank, always wearing an apathetic and empty expression, didn't display any emotion in response to the other children's reaction. His logical mind told him that this was the expected response. He was a strange child, the orphanage's prodigy, and that made him a weirdo in the eyes of the others.

He took a tray and went to an empty table in a corner of the cafeteria. His small hands held the fork and knife with perfectly neat precision, as if he were programmed to do so. As he sat alone, he began to eat his meal without showing the slightest sign of sadness or discomfort.

The other children whispered and glanced at him from the corner of their eyes. They wondered why Frank was different, why he didn't play with them or behave like the others. But no one approached to speak to him or offer him company. The distance between Frank and the other children seemed insurmountable, as if they belonged to different worlds.

Frank continued to eat in silence, ignoring the murmurs and the curious glances of the others. In his inner world, emotions were something distant, something he didn't fully understand. What mattered at that moment was to fulfill his tasks and solve the intellectual challenges presented to him, a role he had assumed as if it were his destiny. Human interactions and seeking acceptance from others were things that simply didn't fit into his mental framework.

The scene in the orphanage's cafeteria looked like a portrait of loneliness, a small child who, despite his prodigious mind, was isolated and excluded from normal human relationships. Frank's apathy, his ability to distance himself from emotions, was his survival mechanism in a world where he didn't fit in. And although the other children could see him as a weirdo, he simply went on, meeting the expectations imposed on him.

The day in the orphanage continued as usual for Frank. It was the same routine: solving intellectual exercises and problems that no other child his age could tackle. Apathy surrounded him, and interaction with other children was beyond his mental framework. But that day, something unusual happened.

Frank was seated at his usual table, eating methodically and silently when a girl approached him. She sat in front of him, and their eyes met. For the first time, Frank saw something that wasn't programmed in his cold and logical mind. The faces of the people around him usually appeared covered by a kind of mist, a fog that hid their features and turned them into faceless shadows.

But the girl's face was different. The features of her face were sharp and clear, with no trace of that fog. Frank, surprised by the uniqueness of what he was seeing, couldn't help but look directly at her.

The girl, with a shy smile, broke the silence.

"Hello! What's your name?"

Frank, although experiencing something new, maintained his characteristic apathy and responded calmly.

"My name is Frank."

The girl extended her hand toward him.

"I'm Sarah. Nice to meet you."

Frank nodded, not fully understanding the need to shake someone's hand. However, he followed her gesture and shook Sarah's hand.

From there, a conversation developed in which Frank showed himself socially distant, speaking in his typical apathetic tone. Sarah, on the other hand, was filled with enthusiasm and curiosity.

"Is there something you like to do?"

"Not particularly."

"And why do you always eat alone in that corner?"

Frank looked at the empty table he usually occupied.

"I don't want to bother others."

Sarah laughed.

"You're not bothering anyone. Maybe you could join us sometime!"

Frank remained silent for a moment, processing that idea. It wasn't something within his usual patterns. But in some way, something in Sarah's attitude made him consider it.

"Maybe I will."

The conversation continued, and for the first time, Frank experienced something that resembled genuine interaction with another human being. Despite his apathy and cold logic, Frank began to feel something different. A strange sensation overcame him. And he simply said:

"You have a pretty face."

Sarah blushed intensely, a reaction that Frank couldn't fully comprehend. However, he found the gesture pleasant, and for the first time in his life, he formed something akin to a smile, a small twist on his usually apathetic face. It was an unusual change for Frank, one that didn't fit into