Loose End. Eva Mikula

      6.

      5. Eva Mikula New Year's dinner 2006

      6.The first day of kindergarten of her son Francesco, 2005

      4. PERSECUTION OF PREJUDICES

      My path and my life path were once again crossed by bad people. I was getting the idea that there could be no peace for me. Another oppression, a pure evil was waiting for me around the corner, which took shape through the madness of a person who hurt my good faith towards others.

      I lived in a large building, but the needs deriving from the increase in the economic commitments undertaken, the higher real estate expenses at a time when the sector was in crisis, and other personal events (a small girl, a son of whom I tok care for my economic part, the expenses for the babysitter, the mortgage) pushed me to transform the property, obtaining a very nice small two-room apartment, with an independent entrance. In November 2014 I decided to put it on income and looked for who to rent it to. An Italian couple showed up, sent by a local real estate agency to which I had granted the mandate. They made a couple of visits and looked carefully at the small apartment. They seemed immediately interested, the real estate agent told me. In fact, after a while, they called me to confirm their interest and they became my tenants. I handed them the keys on December 12, 2014, I explained in detail all the features of the two-room apartment, they paid the first month and the security deposit as if it were a trial period, with the agreement that upon expiry they would confirm whether to stay, and then sign a long-term contract, or leave.

      The numerous work commitments would often take me out of Rome and, in any case, with very busy hours: practically I always returned home very late and went out shortly after dawn. Also, at that time, I often commuted to London. These rhythms, mandatory to cope with everything that can weigh on the shoulders of a single woman, also gave me management problems with my daughter. Today I cannot explain how she at the time was able to get by, untangling myself between professional and family commitments, however I managed, with the strength of a mother, all this tortuous path. I only remember that I often took the baby with me.

      One day my mobile phone rang: it was Lucia, a neighbor. I state that I got along very well with the whole neighborhood. Relations were cordial, sometimes even friendly. They appreciated me for who I was, not for the past or for the stories told about me in newspapers and on TV. Lucia told me: “Your tenant is on the balcony yelling with his partner. He wants to attract attention by shouting unique phrases about you”. “On me? And why?” I asked her. “He makes very bad statements about your past” Lucia replied, “it is really shameful” she continued, “I don't even want to repeat what he is screaming. Please do something, call him back”.

      Instead of calling the tenant, another solution came to mind. I had learned little shrewdness, with everything I've been through in my life. I told Lucia: “Do this: record his words. Then I call him and ask him what the problem is”. And so it went. On the phone, he pretended nothing happened, it was to be expected. I urged him: “They tell me that you are screaming, disturbing the quiet of the building”. He took on a mortified tone, to try to reassure me: “No madam, nothing special. I had a little argument with my wife. But now everything is fine”. He didn't have the courage to repeat to me the insulting phrases he shouted from the balcony, he didn't say any of this.

      The next day, Lucia called me back on the phone. Unfortunately I was out and about and didn't have the ability to manage what was happening at home. She turned me the recording of the umpteenth scene of my tenant. They were all insults to my person: “That is a criminal, a delinquent!” he repeated at the top of his voice on the balcony, “surely she was the cashier of the gang. She will have bought the house with the money from the robberies”. Then, turning to his wife, he continued: “But do you realize who we rented the apartment from, whose house we are?". These utterances continued the following day, due to a question of parking.

      He had parked his car in a space owned by another tenant, who when he pointed out that the parking spaces were all numbered, was verbally attacked with words and insults also addressed to me: “It is the lady who told us that this parking lot was ours! You see, she is not even capable of being a landlord? Let her go back to her country!” And so other racist and discriminatory insults. So it was that I called him again, I wanted to understand what his problem was and at the same time protect myself from this subject. But he made a second silent scene, then I took the initiative and told him: “Listen here, if the property, despite you and your partner having viewed it far and wide before giving the monthly salary, does not match your expectations, given the vehement complaints you would have made in front of the neighbors so that they would hear them loud and clear, you are free to leave; not only that, I also return the monthly payment already paid”.

      I stopped for a few moments and then resumed determined: “On the contrary, I'd really ask you to leave, I wouldn't want to have to see you every month, because in case you want to stay, in fact, we would have to stipulate a long-term contract”. I was very angry while talking to him, however I kept a certain calm. However, I wanted to tell him something: “You must not allow yourself to make statements about my person and about my past. I don't have to explain anything to you, you think as you please, but don't involve people in my private sphere, who certainly know me better than you, don't disturb my life anymore and go elsewhere to read about me on the internet. Don't create any other problems for me”.

      So I thought I had silenced him. Instead, he changed the focus of his rants to add to the dose of slander and began listing alleged anomalies of the house: “You rented me the apartment without doing any maintenance. Every evening we smell gas from the boiler, there is certainly a leak, the television is not visible, the antenna must be replaced, there is an electrical outlet in the kitchen that has flying wires. How did you dare to rent a house in these conditions?” I was surprised the technician had assured me that everything was in order, as was the cleaning lady, and then I was present on site when I entrusted the property to the agency. However, faced with these complaints, I made the commitment to review any defects complained of and asked for an appointment the next day to go with the technician. The tenant told me that he had to stay at work late and gave me trustee permission to enter the house. While the technician did his work and I inspected every corner of the house for faults or imperfections, his eyes fell on a sheet of paper placed on a shelf in the living room.

      He had hit me because I had read my name on a sheet of letterhead from the financial police. I read it without touching it and amazement assailed me. It was a complaint against me filed the previous day. He had insinuated that I was a scammer, because, according to him, probably I was not the owner of the house and I had collected the rent, without issuing the payment receipt. “But how can someone be so mean and liar?” - I wondered.

      He seemed to have discovered a fugitive delinquent in me and wanted to prove his good faith as a model citizen. The same day I rushed to the Rome Provincial Command of the Guardia di Finanza where a complaint was recorded, providing all the documents at the same time.

      I was intent on making a counter-complaint for slander, but I wanted to consult with a lawyer first.

      Meanwhile, at home, the technician had not found the defects that the tenant complained of, except for a door to be adjusted in height and a burned-out light bulb. No problems with the gas, nor with the antenna signal. The next day the tenant called me back and, with an almost threatening voice, told me: “Here the gas comes out every day, even from the stove, I smell the stench!”. Not happy, he continued with the personal offenses: “You had to tell me right away that your name is Eva Mikula and you are the one of the White One. I discovered it, however, from the Internet, there is a lot about your past as a criminal. I suffered damage because of you”. I could hardly believe that a person could talk to me like that, in what capacity did he do it? I couldn't understand where he was going.

      It was him who made me understand. Money. He did not finish his delusional phone call that the answer to my doubt arrived on time. “For the inconvenience I demand double the deposit, plus the monthly salary I paid, because to leave I have to face expenses”. So I immediately got the idea that, in addition to being in bad faith, he might be a bit disturbed. So I closed the phone call, which like