RENAISSANCE

5. Secrets

Several days had passed, and I hadn't slept since that night. The fear that he would come to kill me in my sleep hadn't left me for a second.

I spent my nights listening to the creaking floorboards under his weight, trying to guess if he was walking in my direction. Each creak, each breath of wind, each footstep quickened my heartbeat. It was as if I were constantly on high alert.

He never left the bedroom, which was for the best. I think his wounds still hurt, as I had caught him grimacing in pain a few times when he walked.

During the day, I constantly watched his movements, though nothing untoward had happened recently, which lowered my guard and made me believe that the whole ordeal was just a one-time event.

Seeing him in the following days, ignoring me and acting as if I weren't there with the utmost calm, it was as if that night had been a figment of my imagination. As if it had been just a bad dream.

I had noticed that he wasn't talkative, more introverted, even with Helia. He was cold, which was part of his hostile nature, and everything was understood through his eyes when he allowed us to read his emotions. When he lowered the wall he had built around himself. It was as if he did it intentionally, letting us grasp his character for a few moments, sparing him the need to express himself with words.

I saw through the kitchen window that it was snowing heavily. Snowflakes were gently falling from the gray sky, blanketing everything in a silent calm. The streets were deserted, the snow having covered the cars and sidewalks with a thick white carpet. The trees were laden, their branches bending under the weight of the ice.

Sounds were muffled, the silence only interrupted by the soft sound of falling snow. Everyone's footsteps were hushed, as if everyone had agreed to respect this fragile calm.

The lunatic was sitting on the couch, watching TV with a disinterested look. The doctor had come by earlier to change his bandages.

I headed to the kitchen to find something to eat.

My hands began to tremble as I pulled on the doors of the empty cupboards. I searched every corner of the kitchen, desperately looking for any sign of food, but all I found were empty, desolate spaces. I thought I still had something left.

No, no, no... This can't be happening.

I checked the date on my phone: it was February 16th. I should have been paid a few days ago, damn it.

I had mentioned it to Carlos a few days ago, and he had assured me that I would receive my due this week.

I sighed, feeling completely overwhelmed by the situation, submerged at that moment by despair and deep discouragement.

I sat on the edge of the small table and buried my head in my hands. I felt like the world was collapsing on me. I had never reached such a point, the point of having nothing to eat. It was a cold shock for me.

My head, resting on the palm of my right hand, turned to the left, where my eyes fell on Isaac. The kitchenette was actually a corner of the living room, so I was sitting only a few meters from him.

He had his eyes fixed on the screen in front of him, not seeming to notice me.

My thoughts wandered in an attempt to distract myself. Who was he really?

It was first his visible tattoos on his arms that piqued my curiosity. Patterns intertwined and overlapped.

There were lotus flowers, snakes, and other formidable animals, as well as crashing waves and mystical symbols. Every detail seemed carefully chosen and placed, giving the impression they told an overall story.