Perfection

   His body was, in one word, perfect. He had being swimming since he was ten years old and his body had been modeled by every stroke of his arms and legs in the water. Besides, his father had inherited him with the genes of a tall figure and his mother graced him with blonde hair and green eyes. His name was Adam but he was never mocked because of his name. No biblical puns or funny names were said in school, nothing ever said a word about him in secret except what he already knew: in the eyes of every single person, he was perfect. And since he knew it from a very young age, he had developed a personality around that fact. He wasn’t cocky but he knew who he was and always-made sure people were aware of that.

 Adam, of course, had many love interests in school. He started dating at age fourteen and since then he managed to be, not only physically perfect, but also romantic and a smooth talker, enchanting anyone who would cross his path. The truth was he loved that kind of attention and also the fact that he could anyone into his world, into his arm or even his bed, if that was what he wanted. People wanted him and also wanted to be him. He even had groupies by the time he finished school and had more than enough messages in his yearbook and invitations to the prom. But then, he surprised them all by stating he was unable to attend. For many, most to be exact, it was the last time they saw Adam and they would never forget his perfection.

  He had only a couple of friends and they had insisted on him becoming a model. He did do it a couple of times for the money but wasn’t really interested in that world. He just wanted to swim and keep swimming because in the pool he became even more than Adam. In the swimming pool, facing other swimmers, he was always the best, most gracious and most threatening contestant. That was because every single person’s attention was always on him. His body was the focus point of every eye, every mobile device in the place and when he swam, people were frantic when cheering him on. They just loved him and always wanted him, perfection, to be up there, getting the first place he deserved because he was who he was.

 Adam’s parents had always been proud of their son and never actually tried to have another one. Weirdly enough, it was him who encouraged them to adopt a child when he had left home. He thought they had been great parents and told them they should spread their goodness all over the world. And so they did: they adopted James, a boy taken from a home where he had been beaten and blamed for everything. Adam served as a model for him and James became one more of his groupies. He would yell the loudest and cheer like there was no tomorrow. And Adam knew and he felt good, even better than ever because he was perfect in more than one-way.

 Was Adam full of himself? Yes, he was. But who wouldn’t be, being as perfect as he was. Any guy or girl would feel the luckiest if Adam would even talk to them for a second and so it happened when he went out with friends. Even in the darkness of the clubs, the heat and the noise, people would still move over for him to pass and for him to be first, always. It was funny to see how people treated him like a king or something even more celestial. He was almost a god and he knew it and liked it. He didn’t really took advantage of it, not even when he won a gold medal, he was always a perfect gentleman and his competitors praised him often, saying he was the definition of a good sportsman.

 But then, something changed. Adam liked challenges because he had always been able to overcome them but, this time, that wasn’t going to be possible. It wasn’t a competitor but one of his companions who made him stumble for the first time in his life. They had met only once and he had not even acknowledged Adam’s presence. He ignored him every day of the competition until the last day, when Adam won the final gold medal and the man’s friend won the bronze one. The tall blonde guy greeted his competitors and it was then when they first set eyes on each other. If they had been machines, the place would have exploded. That’s how he felt. He was so taken aback that, for the first time in his life, his expression was clueless.

 Adam went to the shower in his hotel room, and stayed there for several minutes, under very cold water. Somehow, cold water had always made him think straight, something he hadn’t been able to do for the last hour. That guy and his eyes had taken him by surprise and had moved everything that had been happening inside since he was a little boy. He decided to forget all about it just go visit his parents. But there, he noticed something inside of him had changed. He didn’t care for compliments anymore or at least not when they came form people he didn’t know. Some congratulated him for his wins in the swimming pool and girls smiled at him, but he couldn’t care less.

 That man had done something to him, that ugly little man. Adam knew he was perfect but had never bothered to compare himself to anyone, less of all in a derogatory way. But then, in his old room at night, he realized he saw that man as a little chubby asshole that had dared to confront him in his own arena. He clenched his fists with such strength; he felt his hands numb after a while. That week back home was wasted on thinking about the man that had struck his head with lighting and now wouldn’t let go. But he had more things to think about, like a career after swimming and training for the Olympics.

 Adam had decided to leave swimming competitions after the Olympics. His dream had always been winning a gold medal and register his name forever in the registry of sport’s history. He wanted to be the best and for everyone to know, now and forever, he was the best. The training was harsh and it was then when some more people realized how far from perfection Adam was. It happened first with a girl he went out in a date with. She was enthralled with the idea of meeting him but left after he told her she would be lucky to have him in any way. His eyes, his looks, they didn’t stop her from leaving the restaurant and everyone to look at him, perfect but alone and ashamed.

 It was the first time and it would happen more and more often but he decided not to ay any attention to all of it. After all, he had to train everyday for hours in order to qualify for his country into the world championships and then the Olympics. He spent almost eight months training every single day, his body hurting his psyche everyday but determined to achieve his goal. He beat every other competitor with ease and qualified for the world championships with ease. His performance then was almost perfect; blowing the minds of every single person that had ever seen such an event take place. The only failure was that in his last competition, he lost focus for a single second which put him in second place. He won the competition but he knew there was room for improvement.

 As he planned to take on modeling after leaving he swimming world, he decided to do various shoots before the Olympics. This way, he would be known both as model and as a world-class swimmer. Time passed and he became more and more focused, more and more serious about it all. He got to Olympics early and enjoyed the opening ceremony where his world began crumbling down again: in the group that had travelled with him, he could see the guy that so many years ago had won the bronze medal. What if his friend was near? What if he saw those eyes again, those eyes that seemed to look through souls and concrete alike?

 Again, he showered with cold water and began participation in the Olympic games. He won three gold medals on the same day and even shared the podium with the guy’s friend. He never saw him and his fears vanished. There was a huge party on a boat to celebrate all the medals won by the country and it was there he saw him again. His mind had clearly played with him, as he was nothing as he had imagined him for so much time. He was short and clearly not an athlete but his eyes were not only lethal but beautiful. Adam had liked men and women alike since he was a boy, he had never seen gender as a factor in a relationship but when he saw the guy, his heart skipped a beat.

 He was nervous all night. He got very drunk and kissed two different girls, promising them the world. But then disappeared, leaving the docked boat and walking to a bunch of crates, were he vomited profusely. For the first time in years, he had lost control over everything. His body was not perfect anymore and he felt horrible and weak and common. And then, he heard some footsteps. He turned his head and it was exactly the person he had thought about: the guy with thunder eyes. He felt weak again and fainted.

 The next day, he woke up in a hospital were his stomach had been cleaned and he had been treated for intoxication. The guy was not there but he felt those eyes on his head and started to scream. That day, Adam lost his mind. He wasn’t going to be a model anymore, or the sportsman of the year. His mind was gone and the only thing that was left was the memory of his fear to fail, that finally eaten away that shell called perfection.

Blood test

 As far as I could remember, I had never had blood taken from me. I had never been sick and, being a man, I had never being pregnant. So the thing was very new for me and scary. It’s kind of silly to be scared of such a silly thing but aren’t we always scared about the things that we don’t even understand? Because I didn’t even know why they wanted me to give my blood after just a routine check-up. The doctor said it was good, once in a while, to do something like a full scan of the body to be sure nothing was off, nothing was out of place. But taking blood from my body seemed very invasive.

 I am the kind of person that takes days to talk to you, even if I have seen you for a year, at work, at school or wherever. I am the kind of person that always tries to be in relationships were the other person wants more love than sex. I’m the kind of person that would never put on a bathing suit in front of someone else or shower in a public place or something like that. I would die first to be honest. So giving away a sample of blood was just as if someone had forced me to give up something that was only mine and it didn’t felt right. Besides that, I had never done it and felt silly because I knew it was something positive to do. After all, he doctor was right: I needed to get to know what was happening inside my body. I had not being in a doctor’s office for five years or more and if he wanted to know what was going on, he was the doctor after all.

 I woke up really early to give my sample. I tried not to think about it until the moment was imminent. So I just woke up, showered, put on some loose clothes and walk out home. The weather was strange: it seemed that it was going to rain but it didn’t, as if the sky was waiting to make a more dramatic storm later in the day. I just thought the weather sometimes behaved like a moody human. I walked to the bus stop and waited there for the bus that would take me to the hospital. It was such a sad thing, to be going to a hospital. I thought tight there that I pity every single person that has to go to a hospital every single day of his or her lives. All that sadness and stress and just negativity…

 I mean, I’m not the most positive guy you’re going to find, not at all, but I do try to be objective and working in the health sector must not be an easy task, maybe if you are the head of a pharmaceutical company or something. When my bus stopped, I walked inside like a zombie. I hadn’t had anything to eat, as asked by the doctor, so I felt a little like walking on air. The bus was filled with people so early in the day so I just stood up by the exit and waited for my stop. As I did so, I noticed that most of the passengers in the bus were women and then another fact of life hit me in the face: women are so under appreciated. Not because they carry life but because they keep it going. All those ladies in the bus were proof of that and I felt bad as a man.

 One of them was talking about the day she was going to have. I couldn’t hear the whole conversation, but I could guess she was a housekeeper. She was telling another woman that she had asked her boss to give her two days off as she was feeling really tired and had many things to do at home. The other women asked her if her husband helped around the house and she answered that he did but that things were still backing up. She hoped to get those two days to run some errands and just be with her children for some more time that week. That was all I heard before I stepped out of the bus, twenty minutes after I had gotten in. I felt bad for her but I thought that at least she had a steady job. Things could always be worse.

 As it was very early, there were no traffic jams on the streets and no overcrowded sidewalks. The few people around were workers of stores or vendors that were installing their posts in strategic places for the morning rush. People were going to need their coffee, their newspapers and their dose of sugar and they were going to given them all to them. I walked past them and then through a couple of blocks where not a single soul was seen. It was the perfect time of the day to shoot a zombie apocalypse scene. I imagined it and smiled for myself. I finally got to the hospital and went straight to the second floor, where I was charged for my blood test. Then I sat down and looked around.

 Besides me, there were only two other people: a teenager with his mom and an elderly couple. The teenager was obviously checking social media and seemed very focused on it. His mom seemed moved her feet and legs without stopping. By her outfit, it was obvious she worked in some office and that she needed to get there as soon as possible, which was curious because wouldn’t you open up your morning to be with your son? Then there was the elderly couple, two lovely older people that were chatting about their pills and if they had them all in the woman’s purse. She pulled them all out and I was surprised to see at least ten little orange bottles in armrest of the chair. They were saying their properties, as no one ever knew the names.

 The teenager was called first and then the couple and when more people were coming in, I finally got inside too. I got into a small cubicle were a nurse checked my arms for the best vein and the she told me to look the other way, as it may look a bit too scary. I did exactly that, as I was not really looking forward to see my blood spilling out of my arm. As she did her job, she told me that the results would be available in two weeks. I wanted to complain but my arm hurt too bad and she told me, after putting a circular sticking plaster where she had put the needle on.

 When the pain passed, I asked her why it took so long to have the results. I told her it was just a routine procedure for my doctor but she told me that all exams were the same and that they checked the blood for every possible disease I could have: hepatitis and several sexual transmitted diseases includes syphilis and HIV. When she said the last part, I got even more scared that before the needle went through my skin. I didn’t ask anything else or said anything at all. She just gave me a sheet with which I could claim the results in two weeks time. Five minutes later, I was already outside walking home. Somehow, I didn’t want to take the bus back. I had too many things in my head and only wanted to vent a little before freaking out once again. 

 As I stopped to buy something to eat, I thout about the reason why I was freaking out. Exactly five months ago I had gone to a party and, strangely for me, I had gotten really drunk. The friends that had invited me there were just laughing their asses off because they had never seen me drunk and because, strangely enough, I was a very funny drunk guy. I told just, funny stories I didn’t even know I had and I talked to people straight away, even going so far as to ask them if they have had sex that day. Bare in my mind the party was attended by, at least, forty people and only knew a couple of them. I drank a lot and, the next day I was surprised to realize that I hadn’t vomited or anything gross like that all night.

 What was weird was that I woke in one of the bedrooms of the apartment were the party was held and I happened to be only wearing my underwear and with someone besides me. Now, I didn’t know if something happened and to this day I have no idea. It was just as if all memories produced after two in the morning had been erased by the computer that was my brain. I only know I grabbed my clothes, put them on and just got the hell out of there. Days later, I spoke with one of my friends that had been in the party and he just said he found me funny when drunk. But he never said anything about me kissing or talking in a “unique way” to someone. So I didn’t mention it and I had forgotten everything about it until the day of the blood test.

 The following two weeks were torture. Every time I had a moment to think about my life, I found myself wondering if I had sex that night of the party and if it had been unprotected. As I didn’t recall anything, and I didn’t really stayed in the room the next day to see if there was a condom wrapper around, I just didn’t know anything. I just knew I was very nervous and jumpy every time someone was looking to talk to me about anything. Days were long sometimes and I just wanted the hospital to call me and tell me they need me to pick up the results earlier but maybe that wouldn’t have been a very happy call.

 Anyway, I waited as patiently as I could and when it was time, I went to the hospital and asked for my results. It was very frustrating that I had to wait several minutes for them and that I had to go through them with a doctor different that the one who had asked for the damn exam. She must have realized what was going on inside my mind because she just said “You’re fine, honey”. I felt like an elephant had ben lifted from my back and I could finally worry about other things, like my life in general and the fact that I suffered from anemia.

Once a year

   As I woke up, the first feeling I got was that he was still there. And that was all I needed. I didn’t want to think about anything or anyone else. Having him there, next to me, was an achievement I couldn’t compare with anything else. It had all happened so fast that, for a moment during the night, I thought I was dreaming every single moment. And to be honest, I didn’t care. It was the best dream in the world, if that’s what it was, and I would try to spend as much time in it as I could, enjoying myself and being happy for once in a long time.

 The thing was, he had always seemed so distant, so elusive. But at the same time, He wasn’t a stranger to me; it wasn’t as if I had met him just last night, no. We had been acquaintances for a long time, having mutual friends and meeting in several parties and gatherings in the recent years. Yes, years. When I met him, he was different. Maybe it’s because I’m falling in love or something, but back then I didn’t noticed his physical beauty, nor his internal one. The only thing I saw was this very serious guy, rarely laughing at my jokes (and I joke a lot). The only thing he did was taking his girlfriend’s hand.

 Yes, I know. She was very beautiful to be honest, with her long black hair and big green eyes. I think they worked together or something. I haven’t got to the moment where I can feel comfortable asking about his past conquests. Maybe it’s too early to do that. But she was a nice girl and I have to say that the first time I saw them I liked her better than him. He was so cold, looked so boring and simple. Not my type of guy to be honest, so I just never got close enough to talk to him.

 The next year, we met again on a cocktail party. A mutual friend of ours happened to be an artist, a photographer and we were both invited to the inauguration of one of his exhibitions. To be honest, I had not planned to go. It wasn’t like he was my best friend or anything but another person I knew was going to be there and she told me there was going to be free alcohol and lots of cute guys to look at. As I had nothing better to do, I dressed with anything and left my home.

 There, I would meet again with him. The girl with the black hair had not come with her. In her place, there was a brunette, much shorter than him and with more personality in one nail that he apparently had in all of his body. She was looking at the pictures and telling jokes, making friends all over and being, for all intents and purposes, the life of the party. Again, I talked to her a lot and I laughed with pleasure because the woman was a riot. Yet again, he was very cold, standing always behind her like a stone bodyguard, just there to take care of her. Sometimes he looked somber and that was the first time I saw a glimpse of his beauty, his mysterious tone if you will.

 But just after that, I met someone somewhere else and I wouldn’t think of him for a whole year. I got myself in a very strange relationship, with a man that had a child. If there’s something stranger than that, I would like to know. It worked fine at the beginning, I have no complaints. His little girl was very nice and he was a great guy in bed, has to be said. But it all went to pieces when we were about to celebrate our first year together. I discovered he had been cheating on me for a couple of months. From then on, I have to say it; I have never trusted people very much. He looked like a great honest guy. He wasn’t and that took its toll on me.

 It was during that period of feeling like shit when I saw him again. But this time we weren’t in any party or nice cocktail event. No. I had decided to go out of my house to buy some groceries to the supermarket. It was one of these huge markets that sell everything. I was dressed a bit crazy, as I hadn’t even showered, but in those days I wasn’t taking to much attention on anything. Anyway, I met him by the frozen foods, when I was trying to reach for the only chicken lasagna left. Out of nowhere his taller self reached it out and gave it to me. To this day I remember that moment because when I looked at him, he was smiling.

 He told me he remembered me from some parties and that he had always thought I was funny. In my head, I doubted that. Not only because I wasn’t buying anything a man said but because he had never seemed amused by me in those parties. He had to be a great actor or something. To my surprise, he wasn’t an actor but a graphic designer and he had come to the supermarket to buy some cereal, which he loved. We talked for several hours there, in the aisles filled with kids persuading their parents to buy them some candy or older men looking at how the butcher did his job. In a very strange way, it was a very nice walk. Something had happened to him that changed him but I didn't dare to ask.

 At the end of that afternoon, we separated in the parking lot. We didn’t exchange any numbers or emails or anything. At least to me, that wasn’t a priority now and maybe he had felt that or he was in a similar place. The good thing was that I smiled all the way home. Somehow, I had finally seen directly to those beautiful eyes he had and I had taken a liking of them. His face was just there, on my mind, for many days after that. I regretted not asking for a number but maybe, and this was the most likely thing, he had just been nice. I was sensitive because of my breakup and making decisions was not the best idea.

 The days passed and I started working and living more normally. I even ran into my ex-boyfriend but all I could feel was disgust. Because there was no love to feel but he was still the person that had decided to lie to me, to make me feel worthless on purpose and I just couldn’t forgive that. He barely said hello but I didn’t care at all about what he said or how he said it. I just wanted to get over that time in my life and soon. So I just nodded and went on with my life. I had never seen him again and, honestly, I couldn’t care less about where or what he is doing. I think that is the right way to feel and I don’t regret a thing.

 However, I kept thinking about that beautiful guy, the guy with whom I talked nicely for what seemed know like just a moment. I wasn’t in love of course but I really wanted to see him again and find an explanation for what I felt every time I thought about him. So I just went for it, calling mutual friends, trying to get something about him. And then, one night, it hit me: Facebook. It was so obvious and yet I hadn’t thought of it. Why call people when they have their friend network for everyone to see? So I looked at the profile of the guy that had done the photography exhibition and browsed his friend’s list.

 His name was as beautiful as he was. I didn’t add him right away or anything. I was too nervous and it seemed like a very serious step to take. So I just bookmarked his profile and let everything be for a while. I finally told my friend, the one that had convinced me to go to the exhibition, about the guy and how much I thought about him and his stupid face. She was surprised and I was surprised that she was. She told me that, in her personal opinion, he wasn’t that special. She thought he had nice ears, which I found to be very funny, and that his eyes had a nice color, but that was it. She said he was too tall, too skinny and looked like a zombie.

 Somehow, I got mad at her. I didn’t screamed at her or anything but I wanted to. He wasn’t any of those things. So right after we met, I sent him the Facebook invite to be my friend. To my surprise, he accepted it just a few minutes afterwards. We started chatting and he seemed as nice as I had seen him on the supermarket. I checked some of his pictures and was glad that I could see that face for a longer while. As it was the end of the afternoon, he asked if we could meet to have a coffee and chat. Of course, I said yes.

 All of that happened about a year ago. We spent several months going out for coffee, watching movies together, having lunch and just chatting for hours on hours, no matter if that was on the phone, the computer or live. He was a nice person to be around and I could feel he was comfortable with me. At one point, he got to my place to watch a movie and he took his shoes right off, put them in the right place and sat on his favorite spot. He felt comfortable and one of those nights we felt like kissing but we didn’t.

 That happened another day, one he prepared with anticipation and that lead to this day. The day he planned started with a nice dinner, a great a fun chat and was followed, of course, by a movie. We held hands, kissed and never saw the end of that movie. We made love for hours and I have to say it was amazing. And now he’s there, breathing softly at my side and I’m already planning to serve him a big bowl of his favorite cereal, which I know from that time in the supermarket. But for now I’m just going to watch him closely, in silence, because I’ve just noticed I have fallen in love. It happens.

Out of the dark

   When I woke up, the train had entered a long tunnel. It felt strange, feeling my body awaken while we were all under the flickering lights. Thankfully, no one was watching my way. I didn’t want people to look at me directly in the eyes. I didn’t want them to discover what I was hiding, which was curious, as I had no idea myself. The only thing I knew was that I had been running for at least a year now. As always, I only remembered parts and pieces, some faces and gruesome images but not much else. I felt pain but the fear that had driven me crazy before was nowhere to be seen.

 This fact made me nervous. I was still waking up covered in sweat and in blood. I knew I had killed again but I didn’t feel bad about it as I did before. If anything, I felt strangely proud of myself. Not for killing of course but for having no more fear. Anyway, now I was brave enough to try to know more about the people I attacked and it was a great surprise to know none of them where exactly loved by their peers. Was I targeting a specific type of person? I had no idea, as it was that other me, the one that lived deep inside me, who decided that.

 But in that train, I realized I didn’t care anymore. All the feelings of angst and dear had gone. I was in pain, yes, but it was only physical. My head was not about to explode from the headaches that I used to have and I didn’t feel strangely hungry anymore. Somehow, I thought, it had to do with my two personalities finally making peace. It was going to happen some day; I just knew it, because at the end of the end they had to share my body and my brain. It wasn’t like if that wild creature inside me could just walk away. T was trapped inside of me and it had learned, for my sake, that it needed me to stay alive.

 After the tunnel had passed, I looked through the window to the mountains: it was beautiful scenery, with green valleys and snow-covered peaks. I could see farmers and cows and their crops. It was the first time I had noticed the world since I had gone insane. It’s strange but I had never noticed it to be that beautiful, that full of color and bright. I smiled, a first time in a long time too. I looked forward to the future and hoped it would calm down for me to have a normal life. My earlier job as a salesman was good but I had always wanted to draw for a living. People often told me they liked my drawings but I had never tried to show them to anyone that mattered.

 Maybe I could get myself a whole new life now, drawing and painting, doing the covers of books or music albums… Maybe I could get that small apartment I had always wanted, with a black and white cat and someone I could hug at nights. My life was going to change and for the first time in my life, not only after what had happened, I felt I was in full control of everything that could happen. I smiled and when I went to the restaurant wagon I smiled too and people smiled back to me. I decided to eat until I was full and then shower so to be ready when the train finally arrived at my destination.

 I had thought of stepping down in Germany but realized they might look for me there, as I had an aunt who had lived there long ago. So I decided to get down in Zurich and just get to know the city. I had emptied my bank account before leaving and was carrying that money with me. It wasn’t much but it wasn’t two bills either so I was especially cautious with it. I carried it all in a black backpack, with some underwear and my toothbrush. That’s all I could get from my home before I escaped. Remembering that brought tears to my eyes but I dried them and decided to shower. I paid a guy working in the train to let me enter an empty first class cabin and do it there. I had five minutes but it was more than enough. I didn’t change of course but I felt renewed.

 After an hour, the train finally arrived in Zurich. I stepped down fast and exited the station. It was raining in the city but I didn’t care. My first thought was to get into an Internet café where I could look for the cheapest areas to get an apartment. I would then get there by bus or whatever and finally rent a place before sunset. I saw several places but none like the one I imagined and certainly not the prize I could pay without running out of money before I got a job. Thankfully, this old lady told me there was a young man looking for a flat mate and that it would cost far less than if I decided to live alone. I followed her advice and met the guy: he was very nice and an artist so I accepted in heartbeat. Maybe he knew people to get me to start drawing.

 I moved in immediately, as I had nothing to really move in. We talked a lot that day with the guy I moved in and he asked me to show him some drawings but I had nothing on me. But then I remembered something and asked for his laptop. I had uploaded some of the drawings I had done to this kind of blog and people had actually liked them and shared them with other. I showed the blog to him and he told me I was good but that I needed a bit of training. He was a painter and a musician so he knew what he was talking about. After we chatted, I felt hungry again so I went out for a burger and decided to make a list of everything I needed to do and get.

 First of all, it was necessary to buy a laptop. I had the money but it had to be a cheap one because I couldn’t just blew it all of in one buy. I also needed clothes, at least the basics and getting a job. Sam, the guy I lived with, told me he could talk to some people in a university he knew so I could teach, or clean or whatever. It was the same to me. Now I needed a job to eat and keep living. My dreams could wait a bit longer. I also had to check if people were still looking for me and then decide if I lived there by my real name of by the new name with which I had bought the train ticket and had fled my country. It wasn’t as if I was running from the police or anything but people were looking for me and had hunted me down for a long time. Now it all seemed calm but you never know…

 I have to explain that they had never been able to tie me to any of the crimes I had actually committed. If my feelings served me right, I had committed murder at least ten times. I didn’t remember any of it but I did remember how scared and confused I felt afterwards, waking up in places I didn’t know and with dead bodies I had no idea who they were. As I said before, I looked up some of them when I escaped the asylum and learned they were all murderers themselves or thieves. Just bad apples from every corner of society. They certainly had families but that, I preferred, had to stay in secret for me forever. Guilt wasn’t going to get me the new life that I wanted.

 The next day, Sam and I visited the university and introduced me to his girlfriend, a teacher called Magda. She was a photographer and she taught the youngest students about it. She was in need of an assistant to help her in and out of class with everything that had to do with the chemicals and such of the labs in which she worked with her students. The day after that, she told me everything I needed to know and taught me how to process pictures myself in order to properly understand the process. She made me spend all morning outside the university taking pictures of random things. I decided to go artistic, or what I thought was artistic, in some and rather boring in others.

 When the pictures started showing up in the paper and Magda smiled at me, I smiled too and felt really happy, like back in the train. It was something silly but I felt everything was going to be great for me now. I was learning new things and I had met very nice people. I had a job and everything was finally going well. I mean, I still had some nightmares but I couldn’t remember the last time I had woken up covered in blood. My inner persona had apparently calmed down. Maybe my own brain had tamed him or maybe, just maybe, he had left me for good. This last thought made me hopeful but I soon realized that was probably not the case.

 The night of the pictures I slept nicely but they day after, when I got stressed out at work, I didn’t slept as good and woke up in the middle of the night. Suddenly, I realized he was still there, inside. He trying to get out, for me to accept him and I fought it silently, sweating as if we had run into a desert. I wasn’t going to lose to him, not now. But then, I felt I had taken the back seat and he was controlling everything. I begged for him to stop, to give me my body back but he wouldn’t back down. He used my body to get out to the street barefoot, in the middle of the night. I begged him not to kill again, not to make me go crazy again but I felt him asking for silence. It was the first time he made sense to me. And that scared me.

 I was right to be. Suddenly, out of nowhere, six men wearing black clothes appeared in the street. They were pointing guns at me, at us, and before I realized what was going on, he had launched us towards them. I heard the bullets but I wasn’t in control until the following morning. I was in bed, the one I had moved in. I was naked, my clothes nowhere to be found. And the sound of people made me look out of the window: six bodies laid there in the pavement, dismembered. A woman screamed.