I could not help myself to stop and stare when I heard that tender cry and saw a small little girl on the floor.
Her head was covered by her wounded knees, her cries deep and full of dispair... I felt like I ought to sit next to her and embrace her tightly, as if it was my duty.
"I am sorry" I said "Can I sit next to you?
She did not answer, still I bent my knees hoping somehow I could ease her pain.
"Well, I do not know you, but I wont harm you. I just saw you crying and I dont know how but I may be able to help you if you just let me." I said quietly.
Suddenly I heard a tiny voice whispering "I was waiting for you to come, now listen".
She took my hand by surprise and held it strongly for what it seemed to me like ages.
She did not say a word, she did not speak, but when she held my hand I could listen to her thoughts.
I felt her pain and saw the images that haunted her day and night, I could hear the voices yelling at her "YOU ARE NOT GOOD ENOUGH", "LEAVE IT", "YOU DONT DESERVE IT".
And I started to get frightened when her deep solitude clmibed up to my heart.
I closed my eyes trying to escape from the images, trying to forget the voices, hoping I could stand up and run away to somewhere, any place far away from her; but something kept me still.
Then a strange sensation filled my skin from the tip of my toes to the back of my neck; I had been here before. I had already felt it, I had already been alone.
I opened my eyes. Now I knew the truth.
Although it was the last thing I wanted to do I let go her hand and asked her to look at me.
It did not surprised me, I knew it since the very begining, even when I had just realized that I knew...
Of course I could remember her face and her pony tail.
I could not have forgotten those dark eyes which had run out of sparks, of joy, of childhood.
And her smile... like the smile of an old person who needs to feel loved not by men, but by God.
I knew her all along... but I had forgotten her somewhere inside my mind.
She was me, I am her.
And she came here once more for the last time to make me remember what I used to be.
And to make me understand that no matter how happy I am now I should never forget my past, my pain, not to feel attached to it, but to understand the ones who struggle. To let them know that I was there, that I know the truth now and to share it.
"Never forget who you were, never forget the place where you came from... never forget that it was God who saved your soul. Now go and share what you know, now go and treasure every single minute you are given the gift of a breathe..."