He woke up early as regularly as most days. The noise coming from the venue near the street of the orphanage helped to wake him up this morning, which was not unusual in itself, since there was a car crash here and there, and the drivers came down to discuss, changing compliments not so polite to each other.

He slowly opened his empty eyes as he yawned.

This morning's beat is not entirely to blame, the snoring of the roommate Tácio, who was not at all subtle, was as soft as an out-of-tune guitar. Mors and the same shared a tiny room in the orphanage, an already small place for one person. Two only added to that feeling. The two slept in a bunk bed, he on top and Tácio and his snores on the bottom.

Sharing the room with a partner was not easy, the room being small for them was the least of the problems, the individual had a horrible snoring, something compared to a great symphony of an out-of-tune orchestra, with a squeaky and scratched. In addition, his companion made sure to leave his clothes in every space of the room. It was not uncommon for Mors to occasionally find a sock under his pillow.

The discussion outside was still high, with insults getting worse and worse. What was not healthy for the boy, who because of his disability, his hearing was more keen than ordinary people. He could recite all the obscene words he had heard. All of that, and Tácio's snoring was not pleasant for his ears. He had just wondered how he managed to sleep every night.

If he found out and threw his blanket over the side of the bed, after all it didn't matter if he folded it or not, when he returned, everything would be messed up anyway. Since every time he came back, even if it was just for a second, everything was messed up again. Once he even thought there was some kind of rowdy bugs in the room, but the only rowdy there is his roommate.

He touched the edge of the bed, looking for the stairs, cautiously, went down the steps slowly, so as not to fall, which was also common for him, time and again, he fell miserably on the floor.

With his feet on the ground, he was now trying to head for the door. What was difficult for him, not hitting the closet, or slipping into one of Tácio's dirty clothes, was extremely complicated, for him it is like a real minefield inside his resting place.

He turned the rusty handle, trying not to make too much noise, to no avail. Opening the door, he found himself in the narrow, poorly lit corridor of the orphanage, with several doors almost consumed by termites, which led to the other orphans' room. In the whole orphanage there was only one bathroom, and just down the hall. Waking up early was a big victory, because if he got up too late, the peaceful corridor he found would turn into hell, full of children running back and forth, in addition to the big fight that occurred whenever there were many wanting to use the bathroom . If he did not wake up early enough, Tácio's dirty clothes minefield was child's play compared to the difficulty of Mors being able to get around the corridor.

He touched the wall cautiously to know where he was going, so as not to enter any of the colleagues' rooms or the cleaning room. Reaching the end of the corridor, he opened the door to the orphanage's only bathroom, luckily empty, with no fight or queue.

He looked for the sink, opened the faucet just a little. He waited for the sound of the water falling, as the tap was not very reliable, in fact the entire plumbing of the orphanage was not reliable. When he heard the drops of water hitting the drain, he took both his hands to hold some water, bringing them to his face and rubbing between his cheeks, forehead, mouth and his eyes. With his face wet and dripping, Mors stared at the mirror in front of him. He was a boy with a cold and serious face, with black hair, with a big lock that sometimes covered one of his eyes, which made no difference to him. He was of average height and was thin to the right extent. In the end, he was a sixteen-year-old boy who looked great, but he himself didn't know that, if he did he might be less cold and antisocial, which would be easy for someone handsome like him, but his disability would spoil his whole social life. His black, cold, blank eyes frightened anyone who had the audacity to exchange a few words. It was a pity, really.

For a moment he thought of his parents, what would the two of them look like? what would it be like to meet them after so long? However - useless - It was really useless for Mors to think so. Someone like him who doesn't remember his parents, and who hasn't been with them either. A great rage and bitterness took the place that in his heart, should belong to them. He hated just thinking about them, it already made him extremely angry - And it's no wonder - They abandoned him.

“Missing the people who threw you away is useless, it would only increase the darkness that is already felt in your eyes” At least, that was what he was trying to say to himself.

It is not for less, thrown away in the trash, like a defective shoe that you no longer want. After all, why do you want to have a troubled and physically limited child? If you can have another brand-new, completely healthy? Nobody wants their own child to be a freak. And then they threw him into the first half-mouth orphanage and the flies they managed to find. The boy would rather have thrown it in the trash.

But he had to face reality, he was blind, orphaned and miserable. That was the limitation that God confined him to. Changing was not a choice, as he really had none. Nothing you could do would change that. Accepting fate, and that's what he's been doing for all of his sixteen years.

It had been a while since Mors stopped to think in front of the sink, some children were already starting to leave, and then a thought came to his mind "I'm going to be late". He went to his room as quickly and carefully as possible, which was dangerous, but luckily nothing happened. He changed quickly, put on his gray uniform and red school tie. He took out his sunglasses, the only gift he had ever received, which was sweetly donated by two possible adoptive parents, who interviewed him three years earlier. "He has dark strange eyes, and frankly it's something that scares us" was what the couple's man said, not to Mors of course, but he was blind and not deaf. Since then, the boy has been wearing sunglasses, which only made him more attention as a disabled person, but it also reduced the fear of people looking at him in the face.

Nor did he forget his cane (hidden under some Tácio's shirts) and his patched backpack.

Even with his cane, walking from the orphanage that was in the humble neighborhood of the city, to the college that was in the center, was a very long walk and even more complicated for someone like him. So he always leaved the orphanage at least two hours before classes start, and sometimes delays were inevitable, even if the walk for an ordinary person didn't last more than forty-five minutes, Mors took at least twice that. Despite the cane, it was difficult to know which street he was going on, and asking someone was useless as they ignored him, as if their time was too important to deal with someone with a disability, they instead either pushed him or simply they said "I have no idea". But deceiving him was difficult, the tone of voice was enough for him to recognize as a lie.

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The rain started and he was at least two blocks from the school, which caused him to panic, nothing could be worse for a blind man than a slippery floor. He already felt the first drops of the little gray drizzle that the clouds brought him, it was the premise of a storm. He smelled the rain, heard the trees swaying, the leaves falling, the newspapers lying on the ground flying.

Luckily he reached the schoolyard, which was not very wet, but it was huge and slippery. Until he heard laughter and strong footsteps, "Gilbert and the others" thought. The Gang was as the name suggests, a group of hooligans led by Gilbert, a third year student who has a simple and common problem - he liked to step on people to feel better - which was a huge pastime for him and his four other friends, whom Mors did not remember the name, since they were only goofy henchmen.

As in nature, the strongest wins the weakest, another rule established by our unchanging world. And for weak prey, Mors was a great dish. Not that he was weak because he really wasn't, but his lack of vision complicated everything. Unfortunately Gilbert and his friends did not attack unless they were in a pack.

He tried to walk as fast as possible, of course, trying not to fall, before the hooligan realized he had a blind man in the rain, struggling to keep from falling to the ground. But without effect.

- Where do you think you're going, blindboy? - Said one of Gilbert's friends, holding Mors' right arm tightly.

The gang laughed, especially the leader. Giving his irritation, he said nothing, pretended he hadn't heard and tried to calm down.

- I asked where you think you're going, poor wretch - Said the brute holding the boy's arm tighter, which unfortunately was the cane arm. Then with the quick stroke, he moved his arm quickly to unlock the gang member's hand, and point his crutch at him.

Gilbert gave a malicious whistle.

-Look what we have on this beautiful cloudy day - he said in the most malicious voice possible - Are you sure you want to challenge someone on a day like this in the schoolyard?

He remained silent but still standing guard with his cane, holding it tightly, should it be necessary to defend himself.

- Let's leave him there Gilbert, he's just miserable, there's no reason to fight today - said one of the henchmen as if the boy was not someone so worthy of being beaten by them.

He heard whispers and footsteps, there was a wheel of several students to see the victim, laughing and booing Gilbert. He who hated being treated like a coward, and yet with such a large audience, the students booed him, waiting to see if he would act against Mors.

- Today is not your lucky day, blind boy, I have a large audience today ... - his henchmen laughed - And still you had the audacity to raise that old stick for one of my friends? - He then turned to those who watched him - Do you want a good spanking, guys?

The audience roared and nodded, and the pre-rain drops were still falling. It is amazing how someone's misery can please others so much that it rains, just to contemplate the misfortune of others.

He decided this time, he would fight. It was full of that guy and the other kids, he hated them as much as, perhaps, even his parents.

- Did you hear that, friends? - He turned to his henchmen and then turned to Mors - We will make you cry for having challenged us.

With a big punch sent by Gilbert, who was a big, strong boy, he made such an impact on the blind boy's face that his glasses flew across the yard, breaking the lens in pieces. The henchmen laughed, the audience roared, and Mors's nostrils bled.

- Bastard.

The audience fell silent, so did the henchmen. And an enraged boy stood in front of him.

- What the fuck did you say? - Gritted his teeth - Orphan son of a bitch.

Mors felt Gilbert's breath and also his extreme irritation. No one had ever cursed him like that.

- I said, the only miserable one here is you - He played trembling with fear, of course, but not letting that hinder his heroic moment.

Mors heard the other henchmen approaching, when the first came to kick him in the air, so he could luckily calculate in which direction he was coming, pick up his cane in time and hit the boy's ankle, causing him to fall on the wet floor. And still with the cane in his hands, he struck another blow to Gilbert's face, which surprised him and did not even have a chance to defend himself.

The audience of students was shocked. The bleeding ear rival snorted with rage and turned on the blind boy with all his henchmen. Thanks to his cane, he could quickly deflect and counter attacks. One of the henchmen took a swipe of the ribs making him moan in pain, Gilbert had his belly on the tip of the cane, making him wail back.

But then the world, which had already been too kind this day, finally caused the storm to begin, while the other students ran inside. The sound of lightning and lightning streaked the battle between the blind man and four other boys. In a misstep, Mors lost his composure and balance when Gilbert took the stick from his hands. Delivering an immensely brutal blow between his chest. In that instant he felt the greatest pain he had felt in his life, he felt all his organs pulse, and with another blow to his legs, Gilbert knocked him over

The four boys did not miss the opportunity, with the young man on the ground threw punches and kicks. He felt the cold rain wet his whole body, he also felt every fist that was made in his belly, he felt the kicks that hit his face. Immobile, helpless, his blood had already mixed with rainwater and was draining from his body. He addressed the people watching, noting that even the teachers and the people on the street were looking at him miserably on the floor. And he said in his mind, "Help me, please…" But it was useless.

"So-Somebody..." he tried to say, but his words were interrupted by blows. And the sentence he had said turned into a spit of blood and saliva.

The bell rang and the boys stopped beating him.

"Leave it there," said Gilbert. "That wretch." Spitting in Mors's bloody face. Second later they were gone.

But he remained there, forcing himself to breathe, his body aching in all possible parts. All the people came in and out looking, but leaving him lying there.

---

In a mixture of suffering and pain, he walked, trying to find his orphanage again, with his nose and ears aching, he couldn't distinguish which street he was going to. The blood had already been cleaned by the rain, which was now beginning to stop. He entered the main avenue of the city, which today was empty because of the rain. His orphanage was on the other side of the city, but confused and dizzy, he failed to notice this. Until when he leaned against a wall, a piece of wood fell on top of his foot.

- Damn it!

He shouted, nervous. And then there was a strange smell, a musty smell. He walked and with his hands on the walls, he realized that she was falling apart with pieces of wood nailed to her broken windows. Still dizzy, he thought it was his orphanage, which, like that place, had some broken windows and an unreliable wall. But that place was far from his orphanage. Mors went to the door, which, when he tried to open it, plummeted and fell with several bangs, as if he had fallen from a ladder.

- Hello? Is there someone here?

Without answers, he entered intrigued, passed through a dark corridor with broken pieces of wood, dust and cobwebs. For a moment he stopped.

It was behind a large bleacher of black seats, there were several rooms by the side walls that must have been the old boxes, down the stairs from the seats, there was a huge wooden stage and red curtains. He was inside a theater, and it wasn't just any theater.

In front of him were six children, there was also a stranger on the stage looking at the boy.

He was a middle-aged man, dressed in sewn and badly patched jester costumes with a sick face and a sly smile at the corner of his mouth.

- Welcome to Shadow Theater, Mors, we were waiting for your arrival.