Amare laughed as he closed the door. He looked at the room. Old pictures from his childhood and drawings he had brought over from home were on the walls. The place he used to call home. His bed creaked as he tiredly groaned. The redness in his cheeks traveled through his whole body. He sniffed sensing an oncoming fever.
With a deep breath, he got up and jumped when he noticed a mirror on the wall. His resting bitch faced him and looked disappointed at his reaction. Shaking his head he moved to change. That was until he heard the jingle of bells.
A cat meowed. Amare a tired breath out and turned to face Satan. “Well hello there your royal majesty.” The cat stared. It curled around the center of the bed and continued to stare. “I swear Satan if I come back and you’re asleep… I. Will. Push. You.”
A shower later and Amare found himself on the corner of the bed horizontally laid avoiding the purring cat.
***
He knew this dream already. It was not a dream but a memory he had of so long ago. Or so he thought. It was his maternal grandparents' house. Lavish and cluttered with pictures on the walls and decorations that did not serve a purpose. His arm was gripped by his Nino. The Godfather, his godfather, that his dad had introduced him to.
“Nino donde vamos?” His tiny voice squeaked. Where were they going?
He knew his Nino would not reply, no matter if he screamed or cried. They opened a door and proceeded to go down into a basement. Its walls are old and murky. Amare’s teeth chattered and his nose became runny.
This was the part of his dream where he wasn’t sure if it was a nightmare or a memory. He smelled blood and death. Amare had already started gagging but stopped when his Nino stopped walking and let him go.
“Ahijado,” Godson, Nino had said. “You must never trust your mother. She’s a beast raised among devil worshippers.” His Nino shook him. “NEVER LEAN INTO YOUR MOTHER! HER BLOODY HANDS HAVE THOSE OF A BLOODY SINNER!” Nino was now crying blood.
The whimpering Amare shakily sobbed.
“Believe me ahijado.” Nino stepped away and flipped a switch. “Your mother has become one with the devil-”
At this point, a blinding light surrounded Amare as he screamed.
He gasped covered in a cold sweat. Leaping off the bed and turning on the shower he scrubbed and scrubbed his body until it turned red. Once having enough he let his body slide tiredly into the tub. Another deep breath he released as he looked at the cat standing at the doorway.
“What are you looking at?” He croaked. Still, in his pj’s, he removed the soggy clothes and changed into something warm. The clock showed him that it was the evening of the following day. “Shit.” He unlocked his phone and saw the alarm turned off.
Amare walked towards the door but knocked his foot onto the edge of the bed. After a few moments of howling, he bent over and walked in a circle. “Ta ta ta” He muttered while ignoring the pain.
He glared at the edge of the bed. Upon a closer look, it was not the bed he had hit his toes on. A box has shifted from its place. Amare pulled it out and began to inspect.
Books of variety, sealed and open letters were scattered inside. All were addressed to his father and the messenger… his biological mother. These were all her belongings. Diaries of her childhood and teenage years. Amare scoffed, pushing them back under the bed.
He stood up. Satan sat upon a book he had forgotten to put back away with the rest. “Move please.” Amare shooed Satan away. Begrudgingly moving, Satan hissed at Amare’s hands nearing towards him.
Picking up the book Amare read. “Encantos para una vida facil” Enchantments for an easier life. Laughing Amare opened the first page.
Setnel sim erasu y
setnem sartseun enu
Sejela et on otag
Selbah em on otag
Dumbfounded Amare closed the page, he walked towards the kitchen attempting not to think about it. Satan remained in the room. Tail swaying.
***
The more he wanted to forget and move on to some other game or the scrolling of Tik Tok Amare continued to linger on the book. Finally giving up he walked towards his father.
“Hey! How is the storage room to your liking?” Mr. Santos washed dishes.
“Well, it isn’t that bad.” Amare awkwardly shifted his weight. “It was a little cold though.”
Mr. Santos stopped. “I see. I’ll ask Neveah to add a heater in there and patch up the holes.” He began to walk towards the entrance. “I hope you aren’t too bored here. You are welcome to go grocery shopping with us or chill with Neveah in the cop car.” Mr. Santos scratched his neck. “If you don’t mind of course.”
Amare smiled and waved his worries away. “No, I am good here. It will take me a bit of time to get used to.. The new environment and stuff.”
“Good.” His father smiled fondly. “I’m off hijo. Try not to burn the house. Jaja”
Back in his room Amare opened the book once more. He scrunched his nose and closed his eyes. “What mind games are you playing with me, mother?” Clicking his tongue he checked other pages and got towards the back of the book. More gibberish and codes were all over.
He knew his mom loved puzzles but he never thought it went as far back as her childhood. “Think like mom, think like mom.”
Amare laughed. Believing he was going insane he wrote the gibberish phrase on another paper backward.
Gato no me hables gato no te alejes une nuestras mentes y usaré mis lentes
He stared at the page. “Oh shit, I did it.” He took a moment. Then leaped off his bed with the paper in hand. “OMG OMG I DID IT!” Spotting Satan on the corner he picked him up and snuggled the cat.
“Gato no me hables,” Cat don’t talk to me. Amare spun.
“Gato no te alejes” Cat don’t leave me. Amare danced.
“Une nuestras mentes” Unite our minds. Amare sang.
“Y usare mis lentes” And my glasses I’ll wear. Amare got scratched.
Amare looked at his arm and applied pressure. “Satan! What the hell!” He walked towards the cabinet and looked into the mirror. “Shit, this looks bad.” He ran cold water onto the wound and pressed toilet paper onto his arm. “What am I going to tell dad?”
“Oh shut up. It wasn’t like I massacred your arm.” A regal voice called out to him.
Inhaling Amare’s eyes widened as he quickly turned off the faucet. He waited. Perhaps it was a figment of his imagination. Pressed behind the wall he peeked around the corner. No one was there. He scanned the room and walked slowly.
The floor was a bit bloody and only Satan was there.
“I am pretty sure you heard me klazomaniac.”
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