Seeing that his father did not respond to his arrival, Adam shouted:

—Come on, Dad! They gave me homework at school! They taught me a lot of interesting things!

But his father was still crouched, bent over and without looking at him, he just looked at the corner of the wall, without even turning to see him as if he was trying to ignore his presence. Adam continued to scream, but louder still:

—There's a man in colored robes in the halls cleaning while he sings! Did you know, dad?

But his father still didn't respond, he just looked at that corner as if his life depended on it, there were no noises, there were no movements, he didn't do anything, he just breathed looking at that corner. Adam started to cry and yelled even louder:

—The eyeless old man told me that he wasn't a real boy and that you knew who he was! Is it true, dad?!

—You're Adam...—His father murmured in a very low voice, slowly, as if he were very tired and saying those words would only overwhelm him even more—Today I remembered...

Adam almost couldn't hear him because of his crying, so he tried to stop crying, so he could hear what his father had to say. But his father stopped without finishing the sentence and kept looking at the corner. Seeing that his father was silent for a few minutes, Adam asked:

—What did you remember, Dad?

—Everything...— said his father looking at the corner, his voice was very muffled; without emotion; as if he was fighting with himself.

Adam noticed his father's silence again and repeated the question to try to talk to his father. He had gone to school just as his father had told him. The boy needed to talk to someone about everything that happened with the giant head. Adam needed someone to encourage him to keep going to school, despite his fear of becoming a book.

For all that, Adam repeated the question several times. But his father didn't speak, he just looked at the corner. Adam tried and tried to create that space to talk to his father, but he never came. As much as the boy would bring out the deepest fears in him, as much as he would yell the truth at him: that he no longer cared about the black tunic, he never wanted to go back to that school. However, his father just kept silent, looking at the corner.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

Adam, desperate to need his father more than ever, decided to approach him and took him by the shoulder to ask him again why he didn't speak to him. But finally the voice of his father came, but with words that he never imagined he would hear:

—I remembered… I remembered that you were the worst mistake of my life, Adam. I was wrong to have you, boy.

Adam took his father's shoulder again as if to try to turn him around and see his eyes; he didn't want to believe that the person who told him that was his father. Not now... not just when Adam really required his Father, to be able to continue fighting for his dream of obtaining the black robe... In fact, it wasn't even the boy's dream; it was his father's dream, and to see his father's smile when he wore those black robes was Adam's true dream.

But his father got angry when the boy tried to turn him around and hit him with a slap that ended up throwing him to the ground, without looking him in the eye and staring at the wall, with a lot of hatred and anger in his voice, he said:

—You are responsible for all my misery, Adam! I was an idiot for taking care of you all these years! Go away, I never want to see you again!

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I remember trying to see my father's eyes one more time, but all I got was a smack to my face that broke my lip, feeling the sweet but bitter blood in my mouth, I knew I had to go.

With loud tears I ran through all the corridors of hexagon 10, I passed the old man, and he told me something that I ignored; Fate was capricious with me on that occasion. If I had followed the old man: today my story full of tragedies would be different... today I would be on the winning side of the war, victorious, smiling and without this pain that I could never get out of my chest.

But at 10 years old he couldn't think about all that, at 10 years old one could only run from his fears and look for a shelter that he considered warm, safe. Although it ended up being a damp and dark shelter.

With all my strength I ran, ignoring all the people that crossed me, ignoring that I had lost my school supplies, ignoring that I had lost the yellow book, ignoring everything, I ran towards the old man without eyes.

Fortunately or unfortunately and although it seems a fallacy, the bookshelves have more heart than the librarians and the old man without eyes would take care of me like a father in the beautiful days I had during my youth.