Freedom Calls

Normality

This morning, I woke up to start my routine when I encountered the most atrocious thing; A gigantic black spider.

Not many people knew, but I was deathly afraid of spiders. But, I was more afraid of them jumping on me than them existing-which is the only reason I was trying to kill it.

After many attempts to "catch and release" and a game of tag basically (being that it was running and hiding), I finally decided that I was gonna kill the dang thing.

So, I went into Demir's pantry and grabbed the largest broom I could find. Well, at least one I could lift.

The smack of the broom against the wall was so loud I heard it ring throughout the house. I cringed at the thought that I'd possibly just awoken Demir.

I'd been with him for a month and a half so far, and oh boy, this man was as hard and cold as an ice sculpture.

The first week of me being here, he jumped on the ball and got a contract all made up so legally, he'd be 'protected' with me. So I signed my life over for the next two years. The good thing about it is, I get paid being here-God knows I need the money.

He did his best to get me in and comfortable the first few days, but after that, I didn't see him much, which I didn't mind.

The house is ginormous. Bigger than I assumed it would be but I had access to all parts of it except for the basement and the upper left-wing part of his mansion. This was where I always saw him walking.

I get down and feeling somewhat accomplished because I finally killed the spider. As I walk to throw it away, I notice something.

Since I've been here, I haven't seen a vacuum, but his floors are always clean?

Maybe it's upstairs in one of the rooms.

As I make my way upstairs, I hear beautiful music coming from the left side of the hallway and follow it. It was like entering one of those scary halls you see in movies. Or much like the scene from beauty and the beast. The "forbidden wing", yeah I was belle right now. The anxiety pumped through my body as I neared the door that was open and leaked the music I was hearing.

Once I got to the door, I took a breath and contemplated going in.

I made it this far, so I might as well go all the way in. I told myself.

So I did.

What I saw inside shocked the hell out of me.

This room was full of paintings. Beautifully drawn and created in their own way. Each one capable of invoking deeply rooted emotions of pain, sadness, and remorse that somehow intricately entwined small bits of happiness. From the realistically drawn portraits of women, all the way to the perfectly skewered abstract portrayal of what I assumed were men in groups, you could see emotions on each person's face. This was the focus. To try to feel what they feel. To place one's self in their shoes. To become the painting.

It was all so surreal. I felt like I'd stepped into another world. Before I knew it, my fingers were skimming across the surface of every painting that was on the wall in height with me. I noticed that there was a new painting canvas towards the back of the room and that 'new painting' smell. It was as if someone was just starting on the picture because all I saw were sketch marks.

I walked closer to see the outlining of the drawing. It was the perspective of someone looking in on another person sleeping. Creepy right? Then it dawned on me, Demir was the artist.

Sort of becoming excited like a kid who'd discovered a risky collection of their parent's most hidden treasures, I continued to look around the room. I was sitting at his desk admiring the undone sketches that were scattered all over when something shiny caught my peripheral eye. In a drawer that wasn't closed completely, stuck out a leather journal-like book.