It's been six months. He had woken up without any memories and severe pain whenever he took a breath. He went through physical therapy for wounds on his legs.
"Who am I?" Pete inquired, his hand encased in plaster.
Seated before a priest, he struggled to contain his emotions.
"Isn't anyone looking for me?"
The priest sighed in evident distress.
"As this is a secluded nunnery, nobody is aware of your presence here. We dispatched people to the main island, and a report has been filed, but we haven't discovered any missing person report that aligns with your description."
Pete, engulfed in remorse, felt adrift, searching for a sense of purpose in this unfamiliar life.
Pete had made himself busy in this secluded convent trying to find purpose in life.
He existed without a social security number, without a family, and his memories. "Who is he? What kind of life did he live?" Pete pondered to himself as he gazed at his naked reflection in the mirror.
His body was scraped with wounds, and he didn't know whether they all were self-inflicted or gained in a fight. He was sure that he had attempted suicide before; the marks around his wrist or neck could only be his doing. As he looked at his face, he realized he was fortunate with his looks, a fact affirmed by many visitors to the convent. Dressed in simple clothes, he went to the garden to contribute in some way to the convent, to which he felt very grateful. What he didn't know was that he had been turned into a chess piece by someone. Kim looked down from the balcony window at Pete, who was happily smiling while watering the plants.
There wasn't much he could do in the convent as there was no internet or even a radio. The only way to communicate with the outside world was through the postal service, which came only once a week. Pete had been living here for 6 months. He was told that they found him on the beach after a storm. He was badly injured and maybe was washed away to this small island, which was private property owned by some rich individual who had established and helped in the operation of the convent. This was the second-hand information Pete got to know through other people.
Kim put on an old record of Beethoven as he hummed the tune. Once he was a budding musician with an affinity only toward music.
" Sir, if I may ask what should we be doing with this boy next?"
Kim's eyes shift to the priest.
"What do you think? What should I be doing?"
The priest remained silent.
Kim laughed.
"Don't worry... I would just play with him a little before I return him to whom you worship........ there are some debts left between us that should be paid for him to die"
His eyes moved to the garden again.
Pete, blissfully engaged in watering his plants and giving them names, felt a sense of tranquility in the simple act. "You drink some more, John, and you too, Elsa," he chuckled, playfully diagonally dangling the water pipe.
The peaceful moment was shattered by an abrupt, angry scream. Pete popped his head up, turning to see the source of the commotion. An imposing figure, exuding wealth from head to toe, stood nearby with an enraged scowl etched across his face.
Pete, unfazed by the stranger's outburst, raised an eyebrow in curiosity. He tilted his head, water droplets glistening in the sunlight, and offered a casual wave. "Hey there! Everything okay?"
