"What about rain?"

Into the bottle

Diary.

-São Paulo, Brazil, 2009.

<< I run and run quickly, I'm not quite brave to look back, now I cannot come back, I've done it, I've stolen again in the fair as yesterday, and the day before, and the day before, and the day before[...]
And as last night they already have hit me and taken me to the cold street, as I was an ill rat, as a stone>>.

My name is Line, I'm 11, I live in Brazil but Mother Luzia told me that I borned in Norway, I simply believe it, I don't remember neither the face of my father nor my mother's one, but I know it, because, in spite I have black hair, my skin is very clear comparing to the other girls that go in my class, actually, Mother  Luzia always tells me that into the invict of my blue eyes is hidden whole the blue ocean .
Life in the city where I live is not easy for me, I can go to the preachers' school and sleep there, so I can study, but three years ago, when I arrived here after the death of my father and the fact that my mother abandoned us I met a friend of my age, Aria, her mother's got a bakery, so since I knew that, I decided to work passing out the bread several days a week to help the children that are worse than me in the street .
Every day I go to the cathedral to pray, waiting each day, to ask God for forgiveness. I'm starting to think that there isn't any god, just the life, our lives.
Really I don't believe in God, but at school is compulsory to pray and go to the church ; some days the women that work there helping the preachers give me a piece of hard bread, but
I'm hungry again...
Some days Aria's mother tells me that I don't have to work so hard and gives me a vacation, so I cannot get money.
Despite Aria is my best friend, neither she nor she's mother have asked me to have lunch, I understand it, since the death of her father they are in a bad situation, the government took off the little money of him they had gotten and now they only have the bakery, almost nothing to eat, except hard bread.
I don't wanna hear the shouts of my stomage again, I don't wanna feel the cold of the dirty floor of the city under the newspapers in that I wrap my body every night, I don't want to have again the pain inside of me.
These last weeks I have been walking around this and yes, I have decided to send some parts of my diary to tell my situation to the world. Into bottles, cards, boxes, by the air, by sea, by land [...]. I don't mind how, but dear stranger, seriously, if you receive this, share it with whole the world, it is my only wish, but not share just my case, because as me and worse than me there's more people than you think.

Line.

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<< I'm running again, but this time isn't like the others, I'm hearing steps each time nearly and nearly of me.
I cannot run more, I'm tired,
mercy, mercy please !
Someone is running behind me, I feel that my heart is going to crash with my stomage, suddenly, I feel something in my head, now I've got blood in my hands, I can't breath, everything become in darkness, I can't see clearly or hear, I see a man thru the darkness, is he passing over me? Is he laughing of me?
I don't know, I've fallen in the road, in the middle of the street, over the cold and dirty ground again, without people to call.
Among the darkness I hear strong noises, are they thunders? I hear it one more time and I realize that they are bombs, the war is coming again, I cannot do anything.
The blood is draining thru my mouth and nose, I cannot do anything, an image, a flashback comes to me, it's raining out, mum doesn't let me to play in the street, she is singing and playing the piano strange songs about, God, Jesus, a strange word that I don't know how to say very well: perhaps "Christmas"?[...].
I'm angry with her, I've told that I won't never breath again, then she gives me an ice cream, now I'm happy, I forget everything.

After that, I gave up and I fall asleep in a very very deep dream...>>