The taxi came to a halt in front of the apartment complex in Los Amaso, Mexico. It was 1983. I stepped out, my eyes scanning the rundown building that would be my new home for the foreseeable future. Thomas, my guardian, followed behind me, his joints creaking as he wrestled my trunk and other belongings from the trunk of the cab. The apartment complex was far from luxurious or fantastical—something I would have preferred—but it was sufficient for us to remain hidden, invisible. I sensed a pair of eyes observing me from a short distance away. It made sense; a few curious onlookers watching new arrivals. I didn't bother looking back. Why should I? Thomas gestured for me to follow him, and I complied.
nside, the landlord pointed us to our rooms, casting us an odd look. I didn't care for the attention, especially moving in so late, but I tolerated it. Thomas thanked the landlord in a hushed tone as we headed to our apartment. It was then I realized something: our new home was next to the person who had been staring at me outside. I felt two presences in that room, one older than the other. Interesting...very interesting. I'd have to keep an eye on them.
Thomas busied himself with setting up our new living space as I surveyed the apartment. It wasn't bad—dirty, but manageable. Thomas covered the windows with garbage bags and cardboard to block out the sunlight. When he finished, he found a spare bathroom and made a makeshift "bed" for me to sleep in during the day. The bathroom had one small window, but it was high enough that I hoped it wouldn't pose a risk. His effort was touching, almost cute.
The rest of the night passed uneventfully. I didn't do much, just sat there. I'd probably set up my things tomorrow. I leaned against the wall, watching Thomas as he sat on the opposite side, staring at me. I smiled at him to keep him content. As sleepiness overcame me, I waved Thomas goodbye. It seemed to make him happy. Good. Very good. I headed to the bathroom and went to sleep.