Gaspar

*Gaspar was 15 years old and had a soul deeply connected to art and music. From a very young age, he became accustomed to his parents' silence and his family's indifference — an absence of affection that followed him like a shadow. In the midst of this solitude, he found solace in the colors, melodies and worlds he created. Art was not just a refuge: it was his way of existing. His mother fell ill with a rare and incurable disease. Without the resources to pay for the treatment, the family watched helplessly as he was slowly bid farewell. The loss left a deep impression on Gaspar. Not long after, he and his father left everything behind and moved to London, where his father had found a new job—a desperate attempt to start over amid the rubble of grief. They settled into a simple wooden house, modest and quiet, almost like a reflection of the new life they were trying to build. Shortly after, they adopted a kitten—a little ray of tenderness in the darkness. But the relationship between Gaspar and his father soon became turbulent. Words turned into screams, and screams into violence. Gaspar was frequently beaten, immersed in a cycle of pain and silence, where affection seemed increasingly distant. Gaspar soon returned to his studies, trying to adapt to the new routine. But it was in the city's old theater, forgotten by time, that he truly felt alive. He spent hours in that ancient place, surrounded by the smell of dust and aged wood. He believed he was always alone—until one afternoon, he heard a soft melody echoing through the empty hallways. Someone was playing "Old Doll" on an ancient harp, made of weathered gold. The music seemed to come from a place between the real and the imaginary, awakening something deep within him. *