Light slipped through the narrow gap between the curtains, thin and pale, brushing against Elifero's face as if testing whether he was still alive. The warmth lingered on his skin longer than it should have, yet it failed to wake him. What finally stirred him was noise -something heavy striking the ground outside, again and again, followed by distant laughter that sounded careless, almost cruel in its normalcy.
His eyes fluttered open.
They felt dry. Too dry. His lips were cracked, his mouth bitter, his throat tight as if he had not swallowed properly in days. He blinked several times, staring at the ceiling he did not recognize, his vision dull and unfocused.
Where am I?
The question surfaced quietly, followed by another sharper one.
Who am I?
His heart skipped.
How did I end up here? What's my name?
The silence that followed those thoughts terrified him more than any scream could have. There were no answers. Only emptiness, like reaching into a pocket that should have held something important and finding nothing but air.
Elifero pushed himself up slightly, his head spinning. Beside the bed, on a small counter, sat a metal tray. A bowl of oat porridge rested at it center, steam long gone, a glass of water placed carefully next to it. A small box lay beside the tray, a folded sheet of paper resting on top.
He reached for the note and unfolded it slowly, half-expecting something terrible to happen.
please take the pills after eating. They will help you.
That was all.
No name. No explanation
Elifero stared at the words, suspicion crawling through his chest. His stomach growled loudly, betraying him. The smell of food tempted him, yet he remained frozen, his fingers tightening around the edge of the bed.
"Why would someone feed me? Why help me? And how do I know they aren't poisoned? There are just too many questions about this person already"
He turned away from the tray and stood, his legs shaky beneath him. Facing the mirror, he barely recognized the boy staring back. Bandages wrapped around his knee, across his chest, his belly, and his palm. He frowned.
"Why am I wearing bandages..."
His voice dropped.
"There's nothing wrong with me."
Driven by curiosity, he carefully peeled them off- one by one.
There were no wounds beneath them.
No cuts. No scratches. Not even scars.
Confusion deepened into unease.
At the foot of the bed lay neatly folded clothes. He picked them up, hesitating only a moment before pulling them on. As the shirt slipped over his head, the scent of fresh fabric filled his nose.
"These must be my clothes," he said quietly, his voice unfamiliar to his own ears. "They're... clean."
Dressed, he moved toward the window and opened the curtains.
Outside, life continued.
People passed by, talking, laughing. Children ran across the road, kicking a ball, their voice light and carefree. A man nearby lifted a hoe and brought it down against the earth in steady rhythm-thud... thud... thud.
And with every strike, something inside Elifero shattered.
Flames.
Houses collapsing.
Smoke swallowing the sky.
The images burst into his mind without warning, fragmented and distorted, as if seen through water. His head throbbed violently. A sharp pain stabbed behind his eyes.
He gasped and dropped to his knees, clutching his head, pressing his hands against his ears as if trying to shut the memories out.
The pain eased slowly, reluctantly, leaving him trembling.
"It was just a dream," he whispered, forcing himself to believe it. "Just a bad dream."
Moments later, a knock echoed through the room.
Before he could respond, the door opened.
A woman stepped inside.
Her presence was calm, gently. When she saw him awake, relief crossed her face.
"Good," she said softly. " You're awake."
Elifero stiffened, fear locking his body in place.
"I thought I'd find you still sleeping," she continued, smiling faintly. She spoke as if they had met before, as if it was normal.
She lifted the tray. "The food's cold now. I'll prepare supper instead."
As she turned to leave, she paused. "You can trust me," she added. "I'll call you when it's ready."
The door closed.
***
Later.
"Mom! I'm back!"
A young girl burst into the house, her voice sharp and energetic. The woman called out from the kitchen, asking her to fetch the boy upstairs since her hands were full
"He's awake, huh?" the girl scoffed. " It's about time."
She ran up the stairs and pushed the door open without knocking.
Inside she found Elifero holding a frame picture.
Her expression twisted instantly.
"Who died in hell and gave you permission to touch my thing?" she snapped.
Elifero froze. Fear rushed through him, but recognition struck just as fast.
He knew who she was.
"I -I'm sorry," he said quickly, lowering the picture. "I didn't mean to-"
She turned away, clearly offended.
The woman called them downstairs.
At the table, the woman smiled at Elifero. "I hope you enjoy the meal."
The girl slightly whispered, her voice cold. " You didn't have to go this far for some low life like him."
Only Elifero heard it.
After supper, the woman spoke again. " My name is Julie C. Boulevard, " she said gently. "And this is my daughter, Olian C. Boulevard."
Elifero swallowed. "I... don't remember anything about myself."
"Tch," Olian muttered. "Typical."
Julie slammed her hand on the table. "Enough."
Olian pushed her chair back violently and stormed outside.
Julie sighed. "Please forgive her rudeness," she said. "She wasn't always like this."
Elifero nodded. After a pause, he asked, "Will your husband and her brother not eating with us?"
Julie went silent.
After a moment, she answered quietly. Her husband had died in the war two years ago. Her son followed a year later ~taken by illness.
"JJ," she said. "Olian adored him."
Elifero felt something tighten in his chest.
"He was the only one who could make her smile," Julie continued. "The only friend she needed. The two of them were like glue, they were inseparable."
As she cleaned the table, she added, "She's just fourteen. Please... try to understand her. And if you can ~ try to befriend her."
Elifero wanted to ask more questions but saw that it would be for the best if the conversation ended there.
Elifero nodded again.
This time, he meant it.