I looked over my knees, moving out the bedspread to my toes.
—No. At least, I don't think so.
—The old building got burned, you don't really know it?
Suddenly, his voice had changed to a different intonation. It came to be a frank and serious voice, he even cleared his throat. I heard his exhaling, that sounded like an almost yawn. I shook, hoping for him to see my head moving.
—Mmmm, were you living under a rock? God, come on. It was so important for this part of the city, and you say you didn't hear anything?
—When was it?
—Was like three years ago, if I'm not wrong. Everyone was trying to help this place, even. How can't you know?
—Three years ago, I must have been studying for University, I guess.
He denied with his head back, like he was still surprised.
—If you say it.
I yawned softly, covering my mouth.
—I swear I never heard about anything related to this place before these two weeks. Was it that bad?
The soft orange of the headlights over our window finally let me see him. His two hands were holding each other while rubbing each finger, like avoiding the night cold air. He took a breath, and lifted his fingers in x's.
—Well, be sure it really was. They even had to build this before it happened. The old building got burned. As it was too old, they had to demolish it.
In a quick movement, his fingertips were pointing to each other. I could appreciate the red over his short cutted nails. The skin around them had a reddish orange, in carmine little scars over the cuticles. Fine lines of dried blood were there, darker than the others. His fingers fall down over each other back of hand. Some looked like fresh scars. I wrinkled my nose.
—Aaah, but how did it happen?
He fainted over his back, facing the orange strange colored light. His intrigued face was full of some kind of pity emotion.
—I heard it was some patient's fault. He was very young.
—Oh… as an accident.
—I don't know a lot, but I think he burned himself over one of the rooms.
—Fuck, did he died?
Cilio acidly laughed at the question. He coughed before answering back, inhaling some air.
—Of course he did. But, the fire expanded and burned more closer rooms. And this place got builded after they destroyed it.
—Mmmm, that's awful. There were more injured patients?
His eyebrows jumped in a movement.
— I think it was a garden day or something like that, none died. I remember it was a big chaos, but at the same time was pretty private. Yeah, only a few people knew things about that kid or how it happened.
A sound grew up, like he was finger snapping. I covered my shoulders to the top, it was getting colder.
—At least his identity was protected, is better that way. So awful to die that way...
—Yeah, is much better. Mmmm, supposedly his soul stills here, I heard some folks said they saw him.
—There's no way to blame them, some must find it scary or something. How old was he?
—Was around the twenties, Too young to die in a mental hospital, too young to die. He was some kind of tragic guy, his life was painfulled and I guess is why he ended up here. Anyway, don't overthink it, Ver. —he turned his back again, messing the blankets.— Have a nice sleep.
I pointed my hand in a like gesture, ready to close my eyes again. The screams had already stopped for a while, but there were some sobs instead. Was like hearing pleading and praying between cries. Somehow, I thought about those old horror movies, where people prayed and prayed to make the evil go, but he was still scaring them.
—You too. Goodnight.—I whispered, maybe minutes after.
My eyes felt tired, like they were about to close down for weeks. I turned my back again, but this time looking at the stained ceiling. My cheeks were cold as ice and outside it was raining again. The little drops crashed the window in soft and chill sounds. They sounded like music, like a horror movie music.
Behind the darkness of my slightly closed eyes, a new scenery started. Inside it I was surrounded by fire, over an empty room. The papered walls had a flowers design that made everything look like I was back over the 60's. Empty combers, empty old and destroyed chairs. Fire was consuming them and the flowered papers were just peeling off. Fire spread all over the rugs, fire coming closer and closer to me. As they screamed, I couldn't see any face but… they sounded like Juls and my mom. They broke down voices, they hysteria over every letter. The scream was running all over the room as some stupid bug, crashing all over the things and my face. Phrases and words I couldn't decipher, letters and words who only made mediatic sentences. A weird feeling came with them, I wanted to cry. I even thought maybe my tears could kill the flames. My whole body was trying to move but I couldn't. My paralized hands, my feeless cheeks. Everything was full of black ashes, as a rest of all the things burned down.
The sound crashed a lamp, making it fall. Was like looking at some invisible bird who overthrew everything. The lamp's spot light crashed in a dramatic sound and finally the sound crashed me, making me fall over on my back on the floor. My hands got full of the black color, like it was absorbing me. It felt like I was a prisoner.
—How is being alone?!—someone screamed but I could recognize any face but their voices. Shadows showed in front of me, heads and hands craving and asking for my soul. It was like someone screaming inside my ears, like the sound came from myself.
I screamed, I screamed loudly and I founded two threads of blood falling from my chin. My eyes opened violently.