(discontinued )

18 - The Shed

18 | The Shed

Leonardo:

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0:10 ─〇───── 3:46

⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻

I went to the door and the knocks continued. The closer I got to the door, the more aggressive the knocks got. I didn't know what to expect and usually, I could care less about the 'pranks' Diego wanted to pull on me or tried to pull on me but this seemed like borderline hitman behaviour.

I opened the door fast and locked my eyes shut anticipating a punch to the face or a kick to my groin. Closing my eyes? A very dumb decision but I wasn't exactly thinking straight since the day had started.

Instead, I heard a mocking voice and when I opened my eyes, there was absolutely nothing there. Directly in front of me, through the apartment lobby's windows, was just the sun's hues painting the sky orange and yellow as it was setting.

I looked down and there was a picture frame in front of my door. I picked it up and looked right and left before going back inside with the picture in my hand. I locked the door for extra precautions, closed my windows and drew the curtains.

Diego was definitely watching me.

Maybe he had cameras installed, he hired someone or he was watching me on his own but he knew what I was doing and where I was. He couldn't blackmail anyone into giving him information about my daily life because only I knew that.

I texted Elia to come over tomorrow and left the phone in the kitchen while I walked into my bedroom to look at the picture frame. He probably had a mic in my phone somehow listening in to my conversations with myself. Who knows at this point?

My eyes scanned the picture frame and I saw that there were three cracks on different parts of the glass. The frame was rustic and the polish, or whatever kind of design that was on it, was stripping away.

It was the picture inside that made me react. The picture was crumpled at the edges and it was definitely old considering its colour but it was familiar to me. In the picture, there were numerous books shelved in old cabinets. Oil paints and slim pieces of wood rested in any small space that the books didn't fill.

It looked a lot like my grandpa's shed I used to visit. During the summer when I was in middle school, mom used to take me to visit her dad because she said it was important to be close to family. Everytime I visited, I always thought grandpa was a little peculiar. 'Maybe he acted funny due to old age', was what I used to think.

Even though he kind of creeped me out at times, I still enjoyed his company. He was the only father figure I had anyways. I used to watch him paint countless portraits of a woman that looked the same every time. The woman had a fair complexion with freckles on her cheeks, her hair was always curled and she had brown eyes.

Grandpa painted the woman so frequently that I still remember what she looks like without the painting in my ownership.

After going down memory lane, I put down the picture frame beside me and stared into space. Why was this sent to me? I wouldn't know but I'd like to assume that Diego doesn't know about my grandfather's shed.

I don't know if my grandpa and him were close or if he visited him frequently or if he's even been inside the shed. I decided to place the picture on my bedside table and went to take a shower.