It had been a long time since I had taken a permanent place in Mr Justice’s guest room, he had told me several times never to call him Mr Miller since at work he was often called so, to be asked at home like this, would not have been good for his health.

And I could add: mental.

After our first discussion, ended with a slap on my face, we didn’t speak for about two days. I had to learn quickly what it was like to live with a lonely, career man like Mr Justice. He was a world-class stakanovist, and he was a credit to him in my eyes, he was not at all distracted from his role as a lawyer. That’s why I started to respect him a little more.

«You have really bad taste, you know?» I brought my thoughts back to the present. On second thought, it had been two weeks since my transfer. I turned to see him lying on the floor, staring at me, I still didn’t understand the reason for his joke so I looked down at what might be the focal point of his glances, I heard: «Wear cream-colored briefs like a toddler, and say you’re in eighth grade.» I blush violently at his improper comment: «You are a real pig, Mr Justice!»

The only drawback of living with a man that I really began to appreciate as a person, because he had a lucrative job and a higher percentage of responsibility than usual, was that when he tried to distract himself from his work, He made me the center of his amusement. Like, instead of a foster kid, they gave him a toy or an anti-stress. Besides, I wasn’t very used to being in contact with other people even though I was part of a convent, everyone respected the privacy of the other and there were rooms divided by at least four rooms with access only after confirmation of the peephole on the door, the contacts with the other confreres were really minimal. In a few days everything I had learned about this concept of privacy and respect had dissolved because of Mr Justice who seemed to be against the private area of people. Or maybe it was his way of telling me that that was not my house and he would not accept compromises of any kind because he owns that house. I was just a guest after all.

«Men wear boxers, not briefs.» - he said, sometimes I could not understand the second meaning of his words, because Mr Justice never spoke as if he had said everything, hiding subliminal messages. Just like the Devil. I sounded loudly: «If panties exist, there will also be men who wear them, right?» «Excellent answer but the rhetorical question you could avoid.» I sigh and keep cutting the vegetables for dinner. This was something that I never liked: that I had been used to, just because I was one of the last praying mantis in demonic version, eating vegetables and vegetable oils, which Mr Justice didn’t like since he was against me not eating meat. Despite this inconvenience, my guardian had never forced me to devour flesh even though I owed by nature. Religion was equivalent to purity and this went hand in hand with the belief not to destroy a life to eat, even though plants were also living beings. Too caught up in my constant thinking, a piece of meat fell on my plate that I had in mind for Mr Justice, I sighed again and bent down to collect it. I blocked myself as soon as I heard a sound coming from his post: «...correction: seeing naked is not as exciting as imagining it.» «What’s that got to do with it?!» - I turned down again and saw him continue to stare at my back. «If you had worn boxers, I would have seen everything but this is more tempting. Seeing and not seeing might be a great way to stir people up, but if that’s what you’re aiming for, it’s not the girls in heat who get you, it’s perverts. Don’t you think so?» As soon as he stopped talking, I put my foot on his face: «Mr Justice, stop being a pig.» - there was a limit to everything and he had long since passed it. «I can’t do anything about it...» - he reproached: - «...you have really candid skin and also looks soft.» - He touched my calf of the foot that I had trimmed in his face, I took off my leg and he smiled: - «Ignore what I said.» He returned seriously and stood up from his position, no longer seemed interested in disturbing my work of preparing our meal. Sometimes he was strange as a person, he didn’t seem to think in a normal way like all the other people I dealt with every day.

At first I thought it was my fault and I wasn’t used to people outside the convent but, apart from customs and customs, there was nothing different. It was Mr Justice himself, he was special in every respect. It was ever since I started living with him that I heard myself saying certain things, all beautifully double-sensing or in an ambiguous way, I could never tell if he was joking or what but every time I just gave him a piece of my mind.

«Tomorrow school begins, the first week I let you free for the mourning of your parents while the second was an unexpected of the preparations of my house to accommodate you.» - I nodded eating cooked spaghetti, for lunch I prepared spaghetti with various meat and grilled meat for Mr Justice, for me instead spaghetti with tomato and vegetable side dish: - «It's singular that a boy changes school in senior year so you will have your eyes on you, don’t be too conspicuous. Although in a place of monsters, you must remember to be the last praying mantis.» «Yes, I know.» - I just said.

I didn’t appreciate the abandonment of my parents in that convent, and yet the knowledge of being a hybrid, the son of one of the last mantis I had, had severed any possibility of hating mine. They did it to protect me from hunters who were too busy worshipping some deities who were dedicated to sacrificing some particular species, including mine or at least half of who I was. «I was ordered to protect you and that is what I will do, you know.» «Thank you.» - being protected from him, in a certain sense, gave me relief.