1

Screams and shrieks echoed in my ears that night, even though my age was short, I could understand what was going on. Tears of fear flooded my eyes and all I could do was hold my mother's arm. I could not scream, the fear was so great that my mouth was sealed shut. The voices of the people who were in the main part of the house resounded very loudly, they were very angry.

I could not imagine anything, the only thing I could do was to believe that something serious was not happening and try not to imagine the possible situation that was happening in the main room.

My mother, like me, was immobile, not moving any muscle, her eyes were in the direction of the door where my brother David was standing nearby.

My mother's eyes started to get wet and the tears fell endlessly, she tried to dry them, but she didn't succeed, they kept falling. Her hand kept holding my arm, and her gaze kept coming out of the basement where we were hiding.

My father was the only one upstairs, he was the only one who tried to do something about it, even though he was surrounded, he was not going to let those intruders hurt us. I tried to breathe to stop crying, but the air barely entered my lungs, the fear was on top of me and he wouldn't let me do anything. A scream of pain echoed in my ears, it was my father's voice, they had done something bad to him, in those moments the fear reached its peak and I stood still, I could not move, nor could the tears continue to fall, I was paralyzed.

"No Dad," shouted David in desperation, "Dad, let me help you!"

I knew that David had made a serious mistake, at the moment of shouting, David came out of the basement without hesitation, he completely disappeared from my sight, the only thing I could hear was the sound of a sword piercing something, a sound that seemed like a knife slicing a piece of meat in one movement. I did not know that this would be the last time I would see my brother.

My mother let out a huge cry and took me by the arm, led me to the far side of the basement, left me sitting there for a few seconds. She ran to a small compartment on my father's desk. My mother opened it and took a syringe filled with a red liquid that looked like the blood of some living thing. Without delay, my mother injected the liquid into my arm.

My body became paralyzed, my vision became blurred and all I could see were silhouettes moving back and forth. My mother, with her face congested, ran to the basement door. With all the strength he still had left, she tried to keep the door closed, but it was too late, a masked man had come in and beaten my mother, who fell down the stairs leaving her completely defenseless.

My eyes closed and I could no longer see anything. I could only hear my mother's screams and curses and the footsteps of that masked man coming towards me.

James got up from the makeshift bed he made the night before. He was in Charlie's room, a friend he had known for some time. The room was messy, full of food, and filled with posters of naked women taped to the walls and clothes strewn all over the floor. It looked like a typical teenager's room, even though Charlie was in his twenties.

James woke up with a lot of sweat running down his forehead. He dreamt the usual, that night he and his family were attacked. It was always the same ending, when his mother injected him with that strange syringe it was when he woke up full of sweat and with a frightened face.

James stretched out his arm to reach the clock on the furniture next to his partner's bed, who was still sleeping. He held it for a moment and looked at the time.

"Nine thirty in the morning, it's a little late," he muttered to himself, "we must leave the last things in my apartment."

James got up from his makeshift bed still in his boxers. His toned body stood out as he lifted the blankets off the floor. A tattoo ran down his back. It was a dragon's tail that started on his face and ended on his lower back.

It was a strange tattoo that appeared when he woke up days after the intruders had attacked his house. He didn't remember anything about that occasion, the only memories that invaded his head were nightmares.

He didn't take long to change, in a few minutes he put on a pair of pants with huge holes in the knee, a shirt, which made the muscles stand out, and finally, some sneakers, which seemed to have been used in a fifty-kilometer marathon, the sole of the shoes was smooth and the front part broken, where some fingers were sticking out.

"Get up, asshole, we must finish leaving my things in the apartment."

Charlie's body didn't even move, it was like he was talking to a wall. James raised his hand and dropped it on Charlie's head, making him get up immediately.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," said Charlie as he massaged his freshly hit head. We still have a few days for Luis' next assignment.

"I want to get this over with, and not worry about this nonsense anymore, and also enjoy my new apartment."

"Your new apartment? What are you talking about? You've been living there for about six months."

"Yes, but with the money I've saved, I've been able to buy furniture, electro-domestic appliances, and all that stupid stuff that's in the houses."

"Aha, but my question is, why don't you send everything you buy directly to your apartment?"

"You know why, I don't want them to know my location."

"Then I'm the one who gets screwed."

"We had already agreed, besides, you have that stupid pick up that you don't even use, now you can use that gas machine by taking my furniture."

"Don't insult Jenny, she's a beautiful car."

"You even named that thing, you're pathetic."

"The pathetic one is you."

"You can shut up, and we'll finish running things."

"Sure, crybaby."

James turned and looked at Charlie angrily, walked to the exit, and closed the door with great force, causing a noise that hit Charlie's ears.

"He's a crybaby," Charlie whispered.

It didn't take long for Charlie to change, a pair of beach shorts, a flowered shirt, and some sandals, as if he were ready to go to sea. He always dressed that way, every day. He had different colored shorts, but that shirt he always wore, looked like it was stuck to his skin.

"Again with that horrible shirt," said James, as he was doing his hair.

"Look who's talking, the man with the broken sneakers, I think it's better to be barefoot than to wear those damn sneakers."

"I don't think so."

"You should spend your money on your image and buy yourself some good sneakers and quality new clothes."

"I don't like to spend on those things."

"Idiot, it's hygiene, it's your image, it's quite important stuff."

"I buy other sneakers if you put on another shirt or pants and not those shorts, we don't even live near a beach."

"What are you talking about, it's my style, I like to be like this also this beautiful shirt was given to me by my mother, it's for good luck."

James was looking at himself in the bathroom mirror, a little steam coming out of the sink, soaking into the front mirror. James looked at his face, it looked a little tired, with some dark circles under his eyes, several scars marked his face, but what he always looked at every time he prostrated himself in a mirror was his right eye. The eye had a different color, a reddish color as if it were a ruby or blood scattered by some living being. James began the daily routine of touching his face trying to erase the imperfections, the scars and what he hated most about his body was the dragon tattoo, which surrounded that right eye. He looked down and took the towel next to the sink and wiped his face trying to forget the image of the tattoo.

"How many things are missing to take to your apartment?" Charlie asked.

"A few, I think we can take everything on a trip."

"Great, when we're done we should go for a drink, don't you think?"

"It seems that the only thing you know how to do is drink."

"Is there a problem with how I enjoy my free time?"

"No, but, you should cut down a little on your excessive alcohol consumption, you even scare your mother when you get home drunk."

"I'll have time to worry about those things, what do you say? You accede to my great proposal."

"No, I want to rest and accommodate everything in my apartment."

"You are boring, man."

The two friends left Charlie's house, said goodbye to Charlie's mother and went out to arrange the missing furniture. It took a few trips to get things settled and immediately the two friends got into the car without much hesitation. A side-to-side smile filled Charlie's face as he started the car. The noise of the engine reached James' ears, making a gesture of disgust.

"You know, every time I turn on this beauty it makes me feel alive," Charlie said as he ran his hands from side to side on the steering wheel.

"Can you stop being so pathetic?"

"I always knew it, you're envious, you always wanted a car like this, I hope one day you get it, but I doubt it, with your negative attitude you'll ever get it."

"Shut up already."

The streets were full of cars, the bustle of the city of Tenma penetrated any ear, except those of these two friends. Inside the car, you could hear the music of different genres. Charlie didn't like a specific music genre, he always tried to find out about new talents and musical alternatives. Charlie was a guy who had a particular musical taste and always made it known when they got into his car. The car speakers would vibrate and make the windows move. At one point, James had had enough of listening to music at such a high volume. At the traffic light, close to his destination, he unhesitatingly turned off the car stereo.

"Hey, what's wrong with you?!," asked Charlie, tapping his partner's hand, which was still on the off button.

"I'm tired of listening to your stupid music, especially at this inhumane volume you're always playing."

"It's not that bad."

"It's no big deal, you say! You're crazy if you keep listening to music or any other sound at this volume you'll go deaf."

"I've been listening to music at an even higher volume for many years and absolutely nothing has happened to me."

"You say that now."

"Then let me turn it back on."

Charlie reaches for the power button, but James with a somewhat desperate movement hits Charlie's hand, pulling away from the car stereo.

"No!, besides we'll get there, when you drop me off at my apartment, you can play your music at whatever volume you want."

"Okay, James, just this time I'll listen to you, but don't get your hopes up that I'm following your orders."

"I don't care, you don't even listen to your mother."

"You're right about that."

The moment of silence arrived and the two friends remained mute without saying a word. Charlie's forehead began to expire, so much so that drops of sweat fell on his face. James looked at Charlie's face and handed him a handkerchief he always kept inside his jacket.

"Tell me what's going on, Charlie."

"What are you talking about?"

"You're not someone who gets nervous in that sudden way. Tell me what's going on?"

"Nothing."

The words that came out of Charlie's mouth were cut off again and again. The sweat on his forehead never stopped,

"If you don't tell me what's going on, Charlie, I'll hit the stereo so hard that you'll never hear that junk music you love so much again."

"You wouldn't."

"You're challenging me, you idiot."

James' fist closed so that it looked like a rock, the hardness in his knuckles was noticeable with the scars that formed on them. He took a little space and James' fist pointed in the direction of Charlie's stereo. The sweat on his forehead began to look like a waterfall that ran down his eyebrows and ended up on his flowered shirt.

"Stop it, James," Charlie took the handkerchief and wiped away the sweat from his forehead, leaving it soaking wet. "I'll tell you what happens."

"Go on."

"A few days ago I got a letter from Tirana."

"Tirana? Why did it come from there?"

"Actually, it didn't come to me, it came to you."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because the letter was sent by your grandfather."

Thousands of memories passed inside James' head, so many that his eyes fell, where he watched the garbage generated by several days inside the car. One memory stuck out so much that he relived that moment, where his grandfather was talking to his mother about living in Tirana. Hearing the name of that city made him so angry that James' fists closed in such a way that his nails began to dig into his skin.

"Why didn't you give it to me?" James asked as he wiped the little blood from his palms.

"So you see how you get when he mentions that city. You must calm down, the letter is inside the glove box, take it, and read it. You will know what to do."

The car kept going, the noise of the city flooded into James, reminding him of the chaos in Tirana. He remembered how the thugs walked in the streets as if they were normal people, while the police did nothing to stop them. Corruption and crime were the daily bread of that city.

James opened the glove compartment and took out the envelope. He read what was written on it and saw that the letter was almost freshly made. He opened the envelope and took out the piece of paper on which the message was written. It was short and concise:

Dear Grandson

Come to Tirana I have information about your father, I know that you are interested the only thing you have to do is to visit me here. Bill will pick you up at your old apartment. You have until Monday to come here. Remember that this is your hometown.

With love: Alejandro LeCroix

The disgust reached James' throat, he was about to tear up the piece of paper, but he stopped, as soon as he saw what it said. "Information about my father," he thought, as he continued to hold the piece of paper angrily. "I have to do it, it's the only way," a clear image of him formed inside her head. He saw himself without tattoos, without the reddish eye, and without those scars, he hated so much. He imagined himself happy, walking the streets of Tenma without any fear.

Tired of so much imagining, he tore the letter in two and smiled in such a way that his teeth shone along with the sunlight.

"What are you doing, James?"

"Forget my useless apartment, I'm going to Tirana," said James as he kept that strange smile on his face.