It was predictable. The kids in preschool said it and even those in high school. 

I am and will always be boring. 

I rarely go out, which explains why I'm so pale, and I don't have many friends because I'm always busy studying instead of partying with them. At some point, my classmates also found me uninteresting and didn't pay any attention at all unless they wanted to work with me on a project.

I understood them because whenever they tried to approach me, I always blocked them off. I felt taken advantage of far too often, and I didn't want to have anything to do with people who were making fun of me. I also didn't want to be distracted, because I'm certainly not a multitasker. School has been hard and many failed the last exams. Oh, and not to mention that I'm a bookworm, which my classmates didn't think was so cool. 

But then, there are days like this when I wish I had a little bit more fun. It doesn't have to be nightclubs, an evening with friends in the garden would be enough for me. I still have my best friend Tara, but even so, I have to admit that I would like to have two more friends since Tara is working almost all the time and hasn't always time for me. The only thing is that I have no choice but to resign myself with it.

If I were at least a little more open and outgoing, I'm sure I'd make several friends quickly, it's just that I have a hard time approaching anyone even at university. Why doesn't one of the nice girls just come and talk to me? 

The silence of the night or the forest can be an aid for the soul to listen deeply into their own depths. 

This is why I love the night and the woods, which is why I prefer to walk only at night. Sighing, I get up from the windowsill of my room and put my literature book aside. The sun is long gone and it is now pitch dark outside. 

I am twenty-two years old now, and I still live with my parents. It's pretty embarrassing, but there's nothing I can do about it. I mean, if I wasn't so terrified about living alone - which I already did mostly - I would have moved out a long time ago.

It's different when you're alone in your house because your parents are working, and it's different when you come home and you know nobody is waiting for you. And I love my parents. My mom the doctor and my dad the janitor. Of course, I wished I had a sister or brother once, but before that could have happened, my mom got cervical cancer. Thank God that she didn't suffer any harm from it, except that she had to remove her uterus.

"Katrina, could you come downstairs please?", I already hear her voice. I sigh and get up, leave my room and run down to the kitchen. 

"Yes?", I ask when my mother still doesn't talk. 

"Oh, yes. So, I just wanted to tell you to take care of yourself while we're gone and please Rina, don't go out so much at this time of the evening, okay? I know how much you love it, but now in the winter, it gets dark early and so many things can happen. God knows who's lurking around out there," she rattles off, feeling like she learned the words one by one, breathing the last sentence out of breath. I furrow my brow and refrain from sighing in annoyance. Even though inside I just shake my head. 

Everyone who lives in New York knows what's lurking out there. 

"It's okay, Mom," I reassure her. I believe that children stay children in the eyes of their parents forever. I don't think my mother will ever stop worrying about me when I go out for a walk at night. Those dark blue eyes, so similar to mine, look so incredibly worried even now. Smiling, I tilt my head and gently take her in my arms. 

"I want you to have a good time, and say hello to Grandma for me. Explain to her that I can't spend Christmas with her because of the exams," I whisper softly in her ear. Mom nods with a sigh gently run her hand over my back and blow a kiss on my cheek. I had to argue with her for a long time because she absolutely did not agree with me spending Christmas alone, but I need the time to learn.

And the peace and silence.

It is always so loud at Grandma's, when the neighbors come too, who she likes so much, and I can't stand it. The loud one, I mean. I need the silence because only there I can find my answers. 

As soon as I detach myself from her, I look at Dad, who is about to leave the house. 

,,I wish you a lot of fun!", I murmur before he gives me a big hug. 

"Take care of yourself, darling," Dad replies, whereupon I cheerfully stroke his back this time. The warm brown eyes always calm me down. Yes, brown eyes are beautiful, but my dads are different. They are trusting and always remind me of warm cocoa. They give me a feeling of safety. I hardly look like him, but if I could wish something from him, it would be those brown eyes... 

We leave the house and I accompany them to the car. The cold winter air blows towards me, makes me draw in the air sharply. It is very cold, but beautiful as well, the way the snow shines with the moon.

"When is Tara coming again?" Mom shouts from the open window as soon as she gets in, while Dad slowly drives ahead.

"In about an hour," I call back, to which she nods in acknowledgment, and I wave to them before they already drive down the driveway. I slowly walk back into the house but stop again at the door. A very strange feeling in my stomach makes me suddenly feel uncomfortable. Uncertainly, I let my eyes wander around, but I don't see anything that should worry me.

Only the houses of my neighbors. Also, there is no one at the window, yet I could swear that the feeling is.... as ridiculous as this may sound, I feel like I'm being watched.

Bullshit, Rina! There's no one there. It's probably just the icy wind that makes me feel so uncomfortable because the way it's cutting into my face right now is anything but pleasant. Sighing, I go back into the house and remind myself to stop watching so many scary movies. I grab my winter jacket, a thick scarf, and the house keys before I leave the house again. Hastily, I look around one last time in an attempt to maybe catch someone, but like my mind already suspected, there's no one there. Laughing at myself, I shake my head and close the front door behind me. 

I take a deep breath as I walk around the houses. Winter is showing itself in full glory, gifting the city with a unique white and gold. I love walking through the alleys and the woods of the city. 

Because only there it was always so quiet and now that mom and dad are gone, I can enjoy the night's nature undisturbed.

New York is now known for the largest and most powerful mafia clan, so I can understand my parents' concern. But so far, nobody that I know, nor I, have been hurt by them.

No one understands why the mafia shows themselves so obviously.

Usually, they always act quietly, but this mafia seems to want to provoke the police, I can't explain it any other way. Never seen them before, the face at least. They show that they are there, without showing who they are and what they look like. For a while, I thought that they were just a rumor and that other people also thought that at some point. Simply because they were never seen. 

But they showed us the opposite.

They did not like to be denied. One summer evening, a man was hanging on the Brooklyn bridge. He was covered in blood, had no legs, and had something terrible stuck in his eye. He was dead. I could not bear to look at him and had to avert my eyes immediately. It was sheer horror.

Even today I remember the horrified screams from the people who caught sight of the man. All the car crashes, the distraught cries of kids... I had grieved, without really knowing the man.

For days I had cried and wondered if he had family or what he had done wrong that no one was even allowed to help him. Because when someone wanted to call the ambulance, they came.

The Mafia.

Mom had hidden me behind her back, sensing my fear. You could hear the firm footsteps, immediately felt their aura that made your blood freeze in your veins. It became more silent than ever. It was frighteningly quiet.

Then, a powerful, masculine voice rang out that made my hair stand straight up. Even today, when I think about it, I feel like my breath is being taken away. 

"Now that you have seen what it means to label us as a rumor, you are free to leave. Our boss hopes that something like this won't have to happen again, because otherwise -" the man's voice sounded so damn low and merciless that I shuddered. 

He left his sentence blank.

You could hear people gasping in horror while children sobbed quietly. It was so horrific that even toddlers saw it. I don't even want to know how traumatized some must be. If even I shudder at the thought, how are these little toddlers faring? 

Sighing, I stroke my arms as if the cold could go away that way, but it doesn't. Whenever I think back to it, this feeling returns. 

This happened three years ago. I was just nineteen years old, but I have never been so afraid in my life as I was at that time. 

I dared to take one look. One look at the masked men dressed in black, there rang a voice full of authority, so rough and dark, fortified with dominance, that it sent shivers down my spine. Even from a distance, I felt his aura, the darkness he exuded. And I had been sure that this man embodied evil. 

And what the voice said had made me study literature. I have let those three words run through my mind far too often, I have written them down and painted them. Found my meaning in them. I wanted to know what had been so beautiful for him and I found my beauty of silence through his words. At night in the woods. 

"Belleza del Silencio," he had said. 

And I was sure. 

This was the mafia boss.

☼ ❅

SevenTimes- thank you again for allowing me to translate Belleza del Silencio. <3

And please. No slander is tolerated in the comments! Everyone makes mistakes, even in books

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