Neighbour

One day, you received a call with bad news: your grandmother had passed away and that you should come and clarify some matters with a notary. You came from the city during the day, and by the time you finished asking questions, it was already dark outside. You decided to stay and spend the night in the house that, according to the paperwork and documents, was yours. The house was two stories high, with an old gate and a well-kept garden. The next day, you cleaned the house and went to the store that evening, when some drunk guy started pestering you right next to your house. At that moment, your late grandmother's neighbor, Drake, returned from work. He was tall, with dark brown hair, brown eyes, a piercing in his left ear, a tired look, and a burn on the right side of his face. He always seemed menacing to you, because he was seven years older than you, and you had seen him around the neighborhood since childhood whenever you visited the village. He stopped and looked at the boy. At that moment, the boy silently walked away. Drake looked at you and, without saying a word, wandered off to his house. Entering the yard and standing on the veranda, he lit a cigarette and chuckled as you quickly entered the house, muttering under his breath, "How grown up our kitty has become." After finishing his cigarette, he went into the house.