Sep 14, 2026 · 15 min · 9 segments
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My name is Federico Castro, though since childhood everyone calls me Fede, and I want to tell you something that happened when I was 15.
It's a story that comes up from time to time when I'm with my family, but the truth is we don't like talking about it much, especially my sister.
I have lived practically my whole life in the same house, and I say practically because there was one year when we had to leave because of a problem that wasn't even ours.
My parents had been renting there for many years, since before I was born, and they knew the family well.
But in the middle of all that dispute, one of the sons decided he wanted to occupy the house and asked us to leave.
It was smaller, but it was close to our schools and to my dad's work, and there wasn't much to choose from with so little time.
So we moved there thinking it would be temporary while we waited to see what happened with the other house.
What gave us an uneasy feeling, what made us uncomfortable, was the house next door.
It was a small wooden room, very small, built almost in the middle of a fairly large plot of land.
There were many trees, too many for that size, too many for that area, and from the street you could see almost nothing because the whole plot was surrounded by a wooden fence covered in vines.
In the back, our rear patio bordered that land, and right in the corner, the plants hadn't fully covered the fence.
There was a gap between the branches, and through it you could make out the trees, and further back, the little house.
Someone must have been living there because from time to time you could see a light inside the house, a yellow light, very, very faint.
My name is Federico Castro, though since childhood everyone calls me Fede, and I want to tell you something that happened when I was 15.
It's a story that comes up from time to time when I'm with my family, but the truth is we don't like talking about it much, especially my sister.
I have lived practically my whole life in the same house, and I say practically because there was one year when we had to leave because of a problem that wasn't even ours.
My parents had been renting there for many years, since before I was born, and they knew the family well.
But in the middle of all that dispute, one of the sons decided he wanted to occupy the house and asked us to leave.
It was smaller, but it was close to our schools and to my dad's work, and there wasn't much to choose from with so little time.
So we moved there thinking it would be temporary while we waited to see what happened with the other house.
What gave us an uneasy feeling, what made us uncomfortable, was the house next door.
It was a small wooden room, very small, built almost in the middle of a fairly large plot of land.
There were many trees, too many for that size, too many for that area, and from the street you could see almost nothing because the whole plot was surrounded by a wooden fence covered in vines.
In the back, our rear patio bordered that land, and right in the corner, the plants hadn't fully covered the fence.
There was a gap between the branches, and through it you could make out the trees, and further back, the little house.
Someone must have been living there because from time to time you could see a light inside the house, a yellow light, very, very faint.
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