7 Days After..... - Zetro Translation

After coming from school, I fell into a routine.

Homework first, then helping Grandma with her chores- though she always protested, gently pushing me away, insisting she could manage. But I stayed anyway, finding small ways to be useful.

During dinner, we would sit in front of the television, the glow of the screen filling the silence between us. I hardly focused on the shows; my mind was elsewhere, drifting through the day’s lessons or getting lost in the static of thoughts I couldn’t control.

After dinner, Grandpa and Grandma would go for their evening walk-a habit they had maintained for as long as I could remember.

And I would return to my room and review my lessons.

I didn’t have good grades. I barely understood what was being taught in class anymore. A year of checked-out numbness had left gaping holes in my knowledge.

It would take time to catch up- maybe months. I might even have to revisit some middle school topics.

But thankfully, those wouldn’t need to be too thorough. I had been a decent student back then.

Before everything happened.

Tonight, after closing my books, I found myself at the window. The air was cold, so I kept it shut, but the glass didn’t obscure the view.

The neighborhood sprawled before me, other houses glowing with warm light. From somewhere nearby, the faint noise of children playing carried through the night- a ruckus, but a happy one. The sound of normal life continuing, unaware.

“Sigh.”

This whole week had passed so peacefully. No more physical pain. No more sudden curses hurled my way.

It felt… strange.

Alien.

Like wearing clothes that didn’t quite fit.

But the memories were still there. Vivid. Relentless.

There hadn’t been a single night without nightmares of him. Of his face twisted in rage, his fists raised, his voice screaming words that still echoed in the quiet moments.

I wondered what he was doing now.

I glanced at the clock. 9:14 PM. Grandma and Grandpa would be back from their walk around 9:40.

I should probably go to bed soon. But maybe waiting for them to return would be better. Just to know they were home safe.

My gaze drifted back down to the street below. A few people were walking- neighbors, probably, also out for evening strolls.

I watched them idly, my mind half-elsewhere.

Then someone stopped directly in front of our house.

They stood there, hesitant. A coat, a muffler, a cap pulled low- I couldn’t make out their face clearly. They seemed to be debating something, their body language uncertain. Should they ring the bell? Turn away?

Then they reached into their pocket, pulled out a phone, and answered a call. As they spoke, they removed their muffler, and the streetlight caught their face fully.

And at that, I stiffened.

No.

‘Why?’

The moment I saw the face, I froze. Ice flooded my veins, my heart seizing in my chest.

Then, as if all strength had left my body, I stumbled backward, away from the window.

‘He is here.’

My father.

‘No. No. No.’

Why was he here?

How did he know I was here?

Did I leave some clue?

No… I was so careful.

Maybe he just came to check if I ran here?

Or maybe he came to tell Grandma and Grandpa that I had run away, playing the worried father.

It didn’t matter. I needed to turn off the light.

I scrambled back to the switch and pushed it down, plunging the room into darkness.

But then another thought struck me like a physical blow.

‘If he suddenly saw the window light go off, wouldn’t he know someone was inside?’

And worse- Grandpa and Grandma hadn’t locked the gate. He could just walk in.

‘No, no, no. What have I done? Should I turn the lights back on?’

My thoughts spiraled, useless and panicked. This wasn’t the time for this.

I needed to hide.

Yes.

Hide somewhere.

I looked around frantically. The closet? Too small, and I wouldn’t fit.

Under the table? Obviously not.

Then my eyes landed on the bed. There was just enough space between the floor and the bed frame. I dropped to my knees and slid under, my chest and hips scraping against the narrow gap.

It was barely enough, but I fit.

Then the doorbell rang.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

A pause.

Then again.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Another pause.

I strained my ears, even though every instinct screamed at me to block them. The walls were thin- sound traveled easily.