I was moving through the shadows, most of the times nothing but a shadow myself. And that's when I met her. And that's when she told me. I have killed my father, she said, and I have run away from my mother.

Why? Why, from all the people in the world, did she choose to tell me? She didn't know me. Or perhaps she did know me, I just haven't noticed. The why of the murder I could guess. We are the same, she said. No, we were not the same, I have never killed anyone, though sometimes I wish I had.

Her name was Chara, Joy in English, what a cruel joke! A girl named Joy that has never felt joy up to that point in her life. Her reality was a fragmented one. She was trying to hold on to bits and pieces to go on living. And she was desperate. For a place to stay, for someone to hold her, for a little bit of love and understanding.

Was it love that I offered? Up to this day I am not quite certain. She's not me, and I am not her, I remember thinking. But we did have our similarities. Broken homes. Bad parents. Dark souls.

Why did she choose me? She gave me the answer as I walked her to my home. Because I knew you'd never talk, and you would listen. You always listen even though people don't seem to notice you are there most of the time. I would never talk to anyone, about what she told me, that much was true. And I do always listen. And perhaps that's why I was angry most of the time back then.

I have killed my father because he's been sexually abusing me for years, and he was beating my mother. Again. And again. And again. I couldn't take it anymore. I have killed him when he tried to rape me. What did she do with the body? I cut it in pieces and spread them over sea and land during an endless night.

Sixteen years old. Abused for years. Brought up in violence. At last giving as good as she's received. I couldn't blame her. Not me. Especially since I was, and still am a vigilante of sorts. I can't take abusers, but I can take them down. There are ways. There's no need for violence. All I need is my head and a keyboard to turn a vicious dream into a nightmare. That's all I need now. It was a little bit different back then.

I told her that she could stay with me for as long as she needed to. She had almost nothing. No clothes, very little money. I could cover for her. But she said no. She would only stay for a couple of nights. Until she found a job, and a place to live. She didn't want to impose.

It was summer. She didn't have to worry for school, so she started looking around. It only took her a day to get a job as a waitress in the old city centre, but without any real money in her pocket at the moment, she foolishly opted to move to an old building that was under occupation by a group of so-called anarchists, rather than stay with me. And I foolishly let her go.

What was I thinking? How could I be so stupid? It wasn't long after that that she got raped by a drunk comrade, and her world fell into pieces again. She was an innocent, a killer but an innocent nevertheless, and I've allowed her to enter the den of the dragon. Stupid woman.

I took her in again. And I told her that she could start paying rent at the end of the month when she received her salary. She accepted this time. She didn't go to the police to report the crime because she was afraid they would make her go home, and that would be a death sentence in itself for her. I felt dead when I was there, she said. I still cannot forgive my mother for not protecting me, for not protecting herself. Perhaps she was addicted to pain, I offered. I wasn't, was her reply.

Her rapist got was coming for him. Again. And again. Slashed tires, broken car mirrors, deadly looks, and finally a rumor that started as a whisper and turned into a roar were enough to make him run away scared. He knows I am behind everything. And perhaps that's why he's so scared. He's tried to stand up to me once but that didn't work out quite well for him, and since then he's kept his silence and his distance. He wasn't the first and he wouldn't be the last.

In the meantime Chara was struggling with her demons. Will I ever be able to trust a man again? Will I be loved? Will I be able to love? No, I didn't try to reassure her, but instead I've decided to toughen her up. You must be smart. You must keep your eyes open. You must do what you think is best for you, no matter what I or anybody else says.

I wasn't born a guru. I don't believe in gurus. I mean, do you need a teacher or a guru to show you how to live your life? If yes, then I feel truly sorry for you. If gurus have all the answers that only means that you don't ask the right questions. I understand that people seek reassurances about their continued prosperity or at least their undisturbed routine in life, but life is all about the unpredictable.

The picture was taken from here.