It was that bird again. It always sang at this hour. In the same place. He liked to think it was looking for its long-lost mate, but who knew; maybe it was something else. Maybe it was just him making stories again.
The wind moved delicately through the leaves, making them dance against together. The remaining drops falling on his nose. It was the only source of relief on this hot day. Even the birds that usually flew around happily were hiding under the shadows.
He sighed and wiped the water dripping down his face.
"Sorin!" A deep and warm voice called out to him. The singing bird flew away, leaving him in a peaceful silence.
With eagerness, he jumped from the wooden stairs, picked up the old bag that was resting at his feet and ran towards the voice. A big smile was present on his face, his heart beating wildly. The ground was still slippery from the earlier drizzle, but how could he care when happiness was all that he felt?
Ahead was a short man with kind eyes, dressed in thick clothes despite the warm weather.
"Pa." Sorin yelled happily. Some chickens ran from his way, their wings fluttering desperately as they tried to escape the nonthreatening giant.
He stopped in front of his father, panting, the smile still present and his hair ruffled by the wind. Without hesitating, he enveloped the man in a tight hug. He raised him slightly off the ground as the man protested.
"Alright, alright, I get it. You can put me down now." He petted the boy's back, grunting at the tightness of the embrace.
But of course, he didn't listen, holding him for another few moments, until the man started with his usual scolding. Sorin put his father back on his feet, gently, careful not to drop him. His eyes were full of stars as he gazed down at his father. He was bouncing lightly, the happiness difficult to control.
"I will forever be grateful. I will buy you as many umm... Things? As you want. I will even buy some..."
The man raises a hand and shook his head.
"That is enough. You shall not get me anything. I have all I want here. What I wish... Is for you to take care of yourself." He dropped his hand, the warmth of his gaze replaced by a deep worry and hesitancy. "Please, Sorin."
The boy took his father's hand into his own and squeezed it reassuringly. The warmth of that hardworking hand acting like an anchor he was too afraid to lose.
"I promise pa. I will be careful, and I will send you letters every week..."
"Two times a week." His voice was stern, but Sorin knew him too well to know he wasn't angry.
Sorin chuckled and nodded. "Two times a week then."
But before they could talk more, a cart pulled in front of their yard. A strong couch made them both turn.
"George, let your son come already." He waved his hand, trying to fight the surrounding flies. "Not my fault if he doesn't catch the train." The man in the cart yelled, taking off his hat and using it instead of the hand.
The father sighed and looked up at him again. He looked like he wanted to say so much more instead, he pushed his son lightly.
Sorin didn't wait too long and ran towards the gate and threw it open, making it creak loudly, too loudly. His father always scolded him for that; Sorin hoped his life will be spared this time. He jumped on the cart with so much happiness that it swayed under his feet. The horse grunted, stepping back and then trying to stay put.
"Oooiii fucker, you think these old planks of wood are made for you to jump on them?" The man in the cart looked ready to jump on him. The hat looking like a weapon the man was ready to use.
Sorin only laughed and patted his shoulder.
"Sorry Matei, I am too excited. I am going to the city. How can I NOT be happy?" He leaned forward, patted the back of the horse as an apology, and then sat on the weeping weed.
Matei scratched the back of his head and then looked towards George.
"At least this village will be quieter now." He said with a smirk on his face, but then the cart moved again, the horse still struggling to find its balance. "If your son destroys my cart, you will pay." He pointed a finger towards George, but Sorin slapped it away.
"Do not worry about that, Matei. If that happens, I will pay for it." He pointed proudly at his chest.
The other two remained silent; looking at him with unimpressed expressions, Matei scoffed and grabbed the reins.
"What?" Sorin was confused, but no one responded to him, instead Matei turned the cart, making the rocks hit against each other.
George stepped toward the moving cart, as if he was trying to get in or maybe stop it.
"Be careful Sorin! If something happens, you come back home." He said with the same worry in his voice.
Sorin looked back at his father, waving with happiness. "Do not worry, everything will be fine. Take care of yourself."
And then George finally stopped following the cart. He remained there, waving as the distance between them was getting larger and larger.
Sorin remained like that, watching as his father became smaller and smaller, still waving. And then slowly, with every moment passing, with every rock jumping behind the cart, every dust raising, his father diminished. With one last turn, the small figure of his father disappeared behind a tree.
Sorin's hand remained in the air, letting the wind brush against his sweaty palm, and then he let it fall. He didn't want to look ahead; it felt like he was leaving his father behind, abandoning him, turning his back to him.
"Do not worry, the old man will be alright. He is a strong fella'"
Sorin finally turned around.
"Yeah, I know. Still doesn't make it better. Just the thought of leaving him alone..." He shook his head, unable to say more.
Matei only laughed and then waved his hand angrily at the flies.
"Yeah, as if he could ever escape me."
Sorin remained silent.
Matei bumped his shoulder.
"Come on, kid, relax. I will visit him every day. Plus, he often goes to the market or goes to the church to argue with that stupid priest." He made a turn again, passing a bar where the people stared after them. "He will be just fine."
They continued in silence, and then Matei clears his throat.
"Tell me something about the place you will live in. Is it a relative or a friend? Do I know them?"
"Nahh." Sorin relaxed slightly, happy with the change of topic. "I don't know them."
This caught Matei's attention. "Huh? So how... how did you find this person?"
Sorin hummed, thinking how best to explain the situation. "Well, my father has a friend who has a friend that knows someone who is looking for a roommate."
Matei scratched his head with the base of the whip, trying to connect every dot.
"So, you will leave with a stranger."
"Exactly." He leaned back with a small smile.
He was sad to leave his father behind, but the idea of going and living in a city, filled his heart with reluctant happiness. It was a dream come true.
They continued in silence, passing by old houses and a few sleeping bars. Dogs barked, running after the cart. Sorin looked at the hills, and he could see a shepherd with a flock of sheep.
Occasionally, the cart jumped on the rocky road; the planks groaning at the aggressive movement. Usually, this would have annoyed him, but this time, he didn't care. Just let it happen.
Then finally, the cart came to a stop in front of the train station. An old, rusty thing with a few people sitting on the sun heated benches, while other were seeking shelter at the shadow of a tree.
Happiness brightened Sorin's face again, those eager, curious eyes moving from a place to another, from face to face. Without waiting too much, he got down with eagerness. Some rocks jumping as his feet hit the dusty ground. He continued to look around with a big smile. The place was a poor sight, truly, but for him it represented a new beginning.
Behind him, Matei coughed.
"Be careful, kid. Your father needs you well and happy." With these last words, he turned the cart and left, dust and rocks acting as a thick veil as it got further away.
Now left alone, Sorin looked around at the grass between the train tracks. A small bird was jumping in search of food. Its small head tilting right and left, up and down. As soon as Sorin's shadow darkened the world around it, the bird flew, leaving behind a feather.
The scorching air was enough to boil every desire to be anywhere but outside. Sorin did not care, his happiness was too brighter than the sun.
A little ahead, on one of the three benches, was sitting an older woman. She was leaning forward, her expression acting as a mirror to her exhaustion. Her trembling hands were resting on her knees, and from under a colorful kerchief, a few grey strands escaped. She raised one of those trembling hands to wipe the thin veil of sweat on her forehead.
Sorin approached with quiet steps, setting his bag down and then taking a seat on the sun covered bench. The woman looked up at him, her eyes blue like the summer sky. The corners of her mouth raised slightly, like she wasn't sure if she wanted to smile or not.
Before responding with a smile of his own, Sorin took a piece of paper from the bag, which he then used to wave in front of the woman.
This time, the older woman truly smiled.
"Thank you dear, you didn't need to." She said with a trembling voice, but as she continued to look at him, a slight frown appeared on her face.
"Whose child are you? I feel like I know you" She turned more towards him, trying to take a better look.
"Oh, I am George's son. George Fantanaru." He continued to wave the paper in front of the kind stranger.
The woman clapped her hands together with a delighted expression. "My, my. I cannot believe my eyes. When did you get so big, huh? You are just as handsome as your father."
Sorin smiled. He was happy when people compared him to his father. Before he could respond, the woman talked again.
"Where are you going, if you do not mind me asking?" She looked down at the heavy bag resting against his leg.
"I am going to Sirinaia to look for work." His voice was soft.
"Oh my. That is a big responsibility, isn't it?" She then waved a hand. "Do not worry, my son did the same and now he has a small, beautiful family."
The sound of wheels and the loud horn made Sorin's heart fall deep into his stomach. He was happy, of course, but now a fear of the unknown settled in his bones.
The last remaining birds flew away with terrified little sounds.
A sigh left his lips as Sorin got up and took his and the woman's bag. He then helped her towards the train. They sat together; Sorin was close to the window, and they continued their conversation. Sorin learned she was named Ana, and she was going to visit her son and daughter-in-law. He also learned they were living in Raureni, a small town next to Sirinaia. She talked with such love Sorin couldn't help but listen.
After hours of talking, of admiring the green hills and the small passing villages, the view slowly changed into something Sorin never seen before. Colorful houses, big, luxurious carts. Oh wait, were those the carriages he always saw in newspaper? They were so... so...
His heart fell again as the train came to a stop.
He grabbed his bag with trembling hands and sighed. He got to his feet and looked down at Ana.
"I wish you all the luck in the world. To have a prosperous family and to live 100 more years." He then bent down and hugged her.
The woman chuckled and patted his cheek tenderly.
"Go ahead, mamaie. Be careful."
With that, he left the train through the tight doors, his bag bumping into the rusting metal of the train. As soon as he touched the ground, his eyes widened. His heart was beating so fast he didn't know what do with it.
Everything was so different from the village he grew up in. He looked around to make sure he was not imagining things. The buildings were so elegant he believed he was dreaming. Compared with the small houses he saw daily, these were so unique. Exactly like the photos in the newspaper. The smell of animals gave away to floral perfume and the smell of... he didn't know, but he didn't really like it.
Even the people, even they looked so... rich. Who knew clothes could be so beautiful? With so many details.
But he was not the only one staring. The others were doing the same, looking down at his clothes with something close to disgust.
Sorin then looked at his own clothes.
Ah, right.
He was the weird one here.
"Come dear, it is that period again. Peasants are everywhere." An older man scrunched his nose while pulling his equally disgusted wife away from Sorin.
He nearly felt bad, but something caught his eyes. A few steps away, tucked between two houses with colorful roofs, was a tall tower. And on that tower was the biggest clock Sorin ever saw.
He covered his mouth in shock, looking around. He couldn't be the only one shocked at the size of that, right?
The setting sun reminded him of the place he needed to find. As much as he would like to walk around and admire every corner of this place, someone was waiting for him.
He pulled out the crumbling piece of paper and looked at the address. To find something in a new city was an arduous task. With so many streets and houses, Sorin wondered how people here didn't get lost.
He asked a few people, but after each of them threw a look of disgust at him, their faces transformed into something that Sorin could guess was fear. They asked why would he want to go there? Some of them even recommending other places to stay.
Sorin refused each suggestion with a frown. What was with these people? They looked afraid, and it made something inside Sorin... equally afraid.
Then he finally found someone able to help him.
"Uhmm... you sure you wanna go there? Mama said it's bad place. Not good." The small boy looked at him in confusion and a hint of curiosity.
Sorin nodded.
"Yes." He said, trying to stop the boy from pulling the embroidery on his vest. "Why is everyone scared of that place, huh?"
The boy tried to reach out again, but Sorin stepped back, making him pout.
"I don't know." The boy said absently, still looking at Sorin's vest. "Everyone avoids it. Say they think a bad man lives there."
Sorin frowned. Was that a misunderstanding? Maybe his father wrote the address wrong. He would never send him to someone who put so much fear in others. He looked again at the paper, his heart beating faster, but not in fear. It was a feeling he didn't want to name.
The boy helped him find his way, his voice loud and cheerful, talking about Gods knew what. Sorin was not listening; the sound of his heart bleeding made it impossible to hear something else.
The hand tightened around the paper.
The streets were narrow, the houses small but colorful, as if trying to reassure him.
Then, the boy stopped and pointed ahead.
Sorin was silent.
He was silent because what could he say? His eyes fell on the kid, a brow raised.
He then looked around because... because this couldn't be where he will leave... right?
Ahead of him was a... a mansion. He looked at the address again and then showed it to the boy again.
"You sure this is the one? Look closer, I think you read it wrong." He bent towards him, but the boy only raised his shoulders.
"Yap. I know because I saw the number when I passed once... without telling mamma."
Sorin held his breath for a few moments, then he sighed heavily and scratched his head. Alright, this was not what he expected. At all.
He reached into the pocket of his vest and handed a pack of candies to the boy.
"Here, you can take these for yo..."
"No, thank you." The boy turned around and ran back, leaving Sorin with his hand hanging.
He coughed, looking around, hoping no one saw.
The confusion and shock were still there, standing as tall as the mansion. The hesitation made it harder for Sorin to step forward, but slowly, he made the first step. Then another and another. The sound of his leather sandals was the only companion for his racing heart and spiraling thoughts.
As he got closer, an air of sadness hit Sorin right in his chest. Two enormous trees were on each side of the house, the branches stretching towards the sky, as if trying to steal the sun and drown the world into darkness. Unfortunately, the absence of leaves reminded them the sun was too far away.
The gate was barely standing, forgotten and left to rust. As Sorin gathered courage to finally step beyond the decayed entrance, a few cats ran from the shelter of a dying bush. They bumped into his legs, desperate to find a new place to hide.
Moss was growing from the cracks, extending along the entire building, as if trying to make it more alive. But all the paint was peeling off, tired of shielding the walls. Motifs of crows and flowers were the only proof of what once was.
Tangling curves adorned the tall windows. It felt like they were trying to make Sorin dizzy on purpose, to lie to him about the old age surrounding this place.
The entire place looked like it was mourning, but Sorin continued to walk, slowly approaching the door.
He hesitated to knock.
How could he not hesitate? All the reactions, the fear, as if a demon itself was living here. He wanted to turn away and to go back home. But the other part of him was blindly trusting his father. He was the one that sent Sorin here.
And that was reason enough to... Knock! Knock!
A moment passed. Then two.
No one answered.
Was no one home? Should he try again? Maybe the one that lived here did not hear. Sorin raised his hand again, then hesitated. His heart never beat faster; he never sweated like this before. All his instincts told him to leave, but he ignored them.
As he prepared to knock again, the door creaked open. All the air refused to leave his body, and he took a step back. The door opened more to reveal... no one.
Huh. Sorin scratched the back of his neck and looked around. Maybe it has been the wind? Should he go inside?
He did.
The change had been instant. The air was so cold that he nearly stepped back into the summer heat.
But something stopped him.
Gods. And he believed that the city looked luxurious.
The view in front of him was like no other he ever saw. The hallway was long and frames without pictures were resting against the wall.
The glossy wooden floor was leading to a spacious room, where the light of the sun was the only warmth in this house. The room was so big it could rival his own garden. He looked around, shocked how someone can have a home this big.
At the end of the room two pairs of arched stairs went upwards towards he could guess was the heaven.
As he looked up, a beautiful, dark chandelier was swinging gently with the cold air surrounding the room.
It looked so different from what he saw outside.
It was beautiful, a genuine piece of art if he dared to say, but he could only wonder: Why would someone want to live alone in this enormous place?
Yes, his own family was rich, and they had a pretty decent house and a big garden, but he had animals, plants. It felt alive. But here was everything and nothing. False hopes and real sorrows.
He took a hesitant step under the chandelier.
The silence felt too...
A scream.
Sorin whirled towards the sound. What was that? His breath was uneven, as the horrifying sound was the only thing his brain decided to remember and think of. Immediately after, the scream came again, distressed, like it was crying.
He didn't think, and that will probably be a mistake ignoring his instincts again, but Sorin bolted up the stairs. His legs decided for him already.
He could hear a voice, a soft, scared voice.
He still had time to stop. To turn and leave. Go back home and-
He threw the door open.
And there, on the sunlit floor, was a woman, her blood painting the ground under her. Big, lifeless eyes were looking straight at him. She was pale as snow and the long hair was covering her body like a blanket.
The blood slowly approached his feet, and Sorin could see his reflection in the dark liquid. He stepped back in fear, covering his mouth. A wave of sickness hit him, eyes stuck on what was in front of him. He wanted to look away but couldn't. It felt like someone was forcing his head in that direction.
A weak whimper. That was what took him out of that trance. He ran forward, dropping to his knees, soaking his clothes into the pool of blood.
The stench of agony and pain hit his nose, and he struggled to not throw up. His hands were shaking; he didn't know what to do. Should he touch her? Will that make it worse? How could he do worse? She was already dead... No, she wasn't. Was she...
He leaned back, letting his arms fall beside his body. The fingers touched the warmth beneath him, but he was in that trance again. His brain was so loud, but his body so silent.
A flash of light finally made his body move, and he covered his eyes. He didn't have time to react when something grabbed his collar and threw him in the opposite wall. It happened so fast he believed it has been only a hallucination. But then he felt it again. That hand. The coldness of it swept through his body, freezing his blood and melting every thought he had.
He didn't have time to protest as he was raised to his feet again. For a few moments, it was silent, the air still. Through the haze, he saw a figure. He could not make out the face.
Sorin did not wait and with all the force he could manage, he swung his fist and punched aimlessly. This seemed to have been a shock, as in the next moment, he fell to the ground.
He scrambled to his feet, falling once, too weak to hold his weight. Even with all the pain his body was enduring, he bolted towards the door. Unfortunately, the luck was not on his side.
The next moment, he got pinned to the ground. His stomach hit the hard tiles with a heavy thud and his teeth cluttered so hard he feared they will fall. He tried to look back, but his entire neck was hurting. His whole body was rigid, refusing to move.
The smell of blood. It returned, and Sorin tried to not breathe. To hold the air in.
He couldn't.
A hand grabbed his hair, and a gasp of shock left his mouth as his head got yanked up. His eyes moved across the ceiling, paintings of birds looked down at him. For a moment, he felt calm, safe. He got reminded of his home, of his garden. He could hear the singing birds and feel the...
Stinging on his neck.
His eyes snapped open, and he tried to turn again. This time, he got pushed by the shoulder and held against the floor. The pain was so sudden he didn't even have time to whimper; to scream.
Was this the thing people were talking about? Was this the reason they looked so scared? So hesitant?
Now, as he felt the blood slowly leaving his body, he realized he should have listened. He should have run away... he should have... but he didn't.
And now...
He was bleeding. He could feel that. Gods, he felt it. The stream of red veil warmed the cold tiles beneath him. With every drop he was losing, his eyes grew tired, his wish to fight and escape diminished.
Was that what happened with the woman as well?
He wondered as he tried to find her with tired eyes.
He was too tired to even move his eyes. His mind too weak to think of something else aside from his father.
He will be so concerned. Of course he will be. Barely allowed him to go into the city to work and now... Now all he could feel was not fear, but guilt. He could see his father back home. Waiting to get that letter Sorin promised to send.
Slowly, the image of his father started to fade and even slower, everything went dark.
Quiet.
.
.
.