I was 17

I was 17 when mom died, dad had already gone a long time, preferring the company of an unnamed young woman to that of a family, while my two brothers, had already embarked on their life journey away from everything and everyone. So I found myself alone and sugaring this bitter pill, the imminent eviction notice. So in no time, I found myself wandering aimlessly in the depths of a city that had yet to show me the dark side of her.

It was cold and the thick autumn rain stung as cold as a thousand pins, I remember wandering aimlessly, night alternated with day in a timeless repetition, I still wear the pangs of hunger as a tattoo, the long walks through the icy streets, nights spent in the open lying on a cardboard, sleepless nights waiting for the day to come, in those moments I never asked for anything, I didn’t beg for a meal, or a place to sleep, I ate as and when I could, earning what little I did with my work that I could find. I have washed millions of dishes, served tables, cleaned toilets and I have never been ashamed of my condition, of my person, of being a girl, I have always walked straight ahead, because there was no one behind, because behind I couldn’t go back.

Hiroshi worked in a sushi bar near downtown, we became friends, he worked nights, he shared his meal with me and sometimes even a place to sleep, Hiroshi was a good friend, the only one ever had, we supported each other, yes it was a good friend.
He was 21 years old, when he was hit by a car on his way home from work, I learned a lot from him and in those few months that we dated, more than I had learned in my entire life, yes Hiroshi was a good person and now it’s gone.

I remember his Japanese lessons while I was trying to improve his Italian, how to make sushi, trying martial arts, teaching a new philosophy, friendship, understanding, giving without asking for anything in return , the long silences contemplating the moon, the haiku written on sheets of rice paper, her smile that I will never see again, all this was the greatest teaching from someone who had little to give and gave it like this, without asking for anything in exchange.

Hiroshi told me, we only have one life, make the best use of it, don’t waste even a moment, live even if there’s a storm, if the frost makes your teeth chatter, if the night is blacker than ink, because the sun returns to rise even after the darkest nights, even after the fiercest storms, and if you don’t know how to do it, then do like the sun, because he always shines without caring about the worries of us humans. So I learned not to be ashamed of myself anymore, I said “enough”, I want to shine too, I want to be enough for myself, because for too long I have depended on the decisions and moods of others, so I walked alone and the road was for a long time time my teacher, and I had to learn very quickly, because there are no backup questions if you make a mistake and the mistake can cost you dearly.

It was cold, a chill that penetrated my bones and made my movements slow, as if the slowness could somehow warm me up, it must have been my appearance as a defenseless and clumsy girl, the fact is that while I was getting ready to find a place to spend my sheltered night, I was approached by a man, a brute who smelled of alcohol and piss, with a scowl and a thick voice, he grabs me by the shoulder and pulls me towards him, his strong grip grips me and a sharp pain it makes my lips twist, but I don’t emit a hiss, I only know that after a while, I have it on me, I feel its pestilential breath entering my nostrils and its hands fiddling in my lower abdomen, it kisses me several times on the neck, I have the his thick saliva dripping from me, but I remain still, then in an instant, as I feel his slimy tongue slipping between my lips, I snap like a spring and my teeth lock like a mousetrap, a piercing scream pierces the nocturnal silence and my throat floods with his blood, the brute jumps up screaming like someone possessed, I still have half of his tongue between my teeth, when I see him rolling on the ground in pain, the time to get up, to stare into his eyes eyes, now full of terror and I spit my stub of tongue in his face, his screams grow fainter as I see him smeared with his own blood, and he rolls over, gasps, spits, squirms and finally after ten minutes of agony, I see him finally expiring, when I saw that he was no longer breathing I rummaged in his pockets, took the few coins he had in his wallet and walked away, spent the night in a public dormitory, one of those horrible places, where they find shelter , bums, drunks, thieves and murderers like me, but I soon learned not to pay attention to them, the night doesn’t pay attention to these things, she is like luck, she has a blindfold on her eyes, so as not to see the abominations that are hidden under the his black mantle.

I was only 17 and with a whole life ahead of me.