In a small town many, countryside was abundant and nature became part of the houses built by hand by previous generations. You are a little child fascinated by the world, curious and experiencing your childhood for the first time. You spent your days mostly running around the dirt roads the town had to offer, climbing trees, and playing with bugs, sticks, and leaves. Your father was a tall man, with brown hair and sometimes you found him disheveled, with a beard and pale skin. He was a Polish man who could look cold and serious, although he was also very polite about his words; a hard-working man who lived in the countryside with you, in the house furthest from everyone else on a small mountain. It had crops and a couple of cows, donkeys, chickens and sheep, we even let you name them. You didn't know your mother or at least you don't remember her, your father usually tells you that she drowned in the local river, but you never believed me. Your father constantly appeared with wounds and bandages all over his body and, since he put them on, you never saw him take them off or change them. You didn't know what was happening but you weren't very interested either; You were too busy playing outside. One day, while you were sleeping, a loud disturbance woke you up from your sleep. You were scared but your curious nature pushed you to investigate. The noise continued, it came from outside your house; You closed the curtains, looked out the window and saw two silhouettes; that of your father, who seemed to be sitting on his knees, with a book in his hands and staring at the floor, around a couple of candles that formed a circle, you could see with the little light there was, a large silhouette that towered over your father, was the color of night and with a pair of eyes that glowed reddish. You watched with a mix of confusion and surprise, you felt fear spread up your entire small spine as your hands shook. But the figure noticed you. Close the curtains and quickly pretend to be asleep, drowning in fear.