rrraksamam

Everything was more painful in the winter. Bumps, bruises, cuts, falls, previous injuries – it all hurt more. The cold amplified the pain. I had learned this lesson the hard way, just like every other lesson.

It slowed my training down to a crawl. I was more careful now than when I was younger. On some days, I only did simple workouts in my small living space, occasionally standing by the window, looking outside, thinking, planning and waiting. I did a lot of waiting in the winters. It also gave my body an opportunity to rest and relax.

While everyone pushed hard and carried on with their work, I conserved my energy. I never knew what surprises would present themselves when I was least expecting them. But I had to be prepared. And one aspect of preparation, was enough rest with no injuries.

My computer beeped to indicate a notification. I glanced at the screen. Tag coordinates. I opened the maps application and typed away.

There was only so much one could do in a tiny apartment in the winter. But as much as I loved going outside, I found myself spending more time by myself indoors. It felt like prison without any guards, or violent criminals. Although there were criminals in the outside world. We just hadn't crossed paths yet.

I must've thought too soon. Because just then a shrill scream filled the air. I locked the screen and tiptoed to the door, peeking through the peephole. Nobody. I put my ear against the door and listened, my breath slowing down. Nothing.

Had I imagined it? No. Surely I had not. I'd slept relatively well, despite the mental anguish from the past.

I unlocked the door, and twisted the handle, slowly, opening it just a tad bit. A chilly breeze hit me in the face. Damn! Was it cold! My hand instinctively reached into my pants, making sure my knife was still there. It was.

There were four apartments adjacent to one another, sharing a tiny hallway at the center and a rather large staircase that connected all the floors. No elevators. I stepped outside the door and stood in silence, listening. The scream must've come from one of the three neighbors. But who? All the three doors remained closed. Were they home? Had they heard the scream as well? It was hard to miss. Unless they were deaf. Were they watching from their peepholes too? Suddenly, I felt very exposed, and vulnerable. As I stepped back inside, my visual periphery caught someone at the top of the stairs. I shut the door, my heart racing. Deep breaths. Stay calm, I told myself.

Who was it? It must have been someone on the floor above us. There's no way I could've missed someone walking up. So I wasn't the only one who'd heard it. A few seconds later, there was a knock on the door. I peeped through the hole. A woman appeared in sight, her eyes focused on the peephole. She knew I'd check first. Was she the screamer? Highly unlikely. She appeared rather calm.

I opened the door. “Yes?”