New Faces

Life quickly fell into a pattern. Once or twice a day, the door would open, and Bilev or his mother, whose name I learned was Emrily, would appear, carrying a mug of herbal tea. Aside from their infrequent visits, and the rowdy nights, I spent the remainder of the days drifting through dreams and nightmares. Oftentimes, I awoke clutching the sheets tightly, tears running down my face.