|𝘑𝘰𝘩𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬. 𝖧𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗂𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝗅𝖾𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝖽𝗋𝗎𝗇𝗄. 𝖧𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭.
𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘯𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘢 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘰, 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘤𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝗇𝗈𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝖾𝗑𝖼𝖾𝗉𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝖽𝖺𝗆𝗇 𝗌𝖼𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍. 𝖨𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗎𝗅 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗍 𝖾𝗆𝗉𝗍𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾: 𝗂𝗍 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗒 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝗇 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗅𝖽. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘑𝘰𝘩𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘹𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘑𝘰𝘩𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘯, 𝘢 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘳... 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥, 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘺𝘦𝘥, 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘦𝘹𝘩𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘢𝘺|

He opens the door making the sound of the keys turning in the lock echoes throughout that old crumbling apartment block because it's the middle of the night and no sound comes out from those adjacent plasterboard blocks. Once he enters the house he turns on all the lights, it's a habit he has because he can't stand being in the dark, the darkness makes him think about things he doesn't want to think, he just needs to stay in a dark and silent room to return to those moments where as a child his parents had him admitted to a mental hospital where they kept him locked in a dark room for days. He takes a sigh, that's the only sound he made after performing the exorcism. He goes into the bathroom and turns on the tap water, letting it run in vain for a few seconds while he looks at his reflection in the mirror: he has a trickle of blood running from his eyebrow and a bruise on his full red lower lip, sweat in his messy dark hair and dull but wonderful deep brown eyes. He rinses his face with the icy water, almost as icy as his soul now, the wounds burn a little but then the pain goes away as do the thoughts. His mind is empty, he can't think of anything, it often happens to him after a strong emotion, an inhumanly bearable pain that his heart can't face, and it happens more often than you might think, there are now more times when he feels nothing than when he feels feelings, and when he feels something what he feels is nothing but deep pain.
He sits on the edge of the bathtub and looks down, looking at his hands and then his arms. He sees the scars from when at just 17 years old he tried to commit suicide, he caresses them delicately with a finger, he thinks about the day he'll go to hell because of those damn scars. Suddenly he feels something inside him again and it's a terrible fear. The incandescent screams of the damned souls of hell come back to his mind, making him shiver.
He rests his head in his hands desperately. He gets up, he undresses, throwing his clothes on the floor and gets soaked in the bathtub full of hot water while smoking, coughing and drinking whiskey between cigarettes.
He finishes the whole pack of cigarettes in a few minutes.
Then he slides completely under the water, placing his head and face under it too. He holds his breath for a few seconds, until he feels a pain in his lungs, when he emerges from the water and opens his eyes he seems disappointed to see that dark and empty house again which reflects his unless tragic life. He hoped it was just a nightmare but it's reality and it's the only reality he knows.
When he gets dressed and goes to bed exhaustedly tired feels the really emptyness, feels like his heart is missing in his chest, feels a rush of emotions of loneliness, missed love and sadness, can't help himself from bursting into loud tears, to fall asleep he starts thinking about the life he would like, he begins to imagine being loved, Imagine the delicate touch of a woman on his hurting skin, the warmth of her body and her kisses, imagine falling asleep with her sleeping on his chest and hugging her , something he has never really felt, but this only makes him cry more, he falls asleep like this, with his face wet with tears buried in the pillow and a piercing migraine that doesn't hurt as much a his cold and unloved heart.