I spent my summer working in a tiny diner, right in the middle of town. It's the coziest place on earth, probably due to its huge orange walls that surround us and make us feel safe while we eat a tasty burger or a steaming poutine. That morning, I was calmly washing the blue counter behind the coffee machine while Karina's beautiful voice surrounded me. She was thoughtlessly humming her favourite Backstreet boys' song: Everybody. The harsh texture of the beige tablecloth I was rubbing on the counter erased very quickly every trace of previous costumers and it felt oddly satisfying. It was a morning like any other, everything felt right. I looked around the restaurant (that was as clean as a whistle) and I felt pride rise into my chest. At the same moment, a fresh breeze made my hair flutter a little bit and I turned around, knowing that somebody had juste opened the diner's door. It was Emily, my favourite co-worker, one of my dearest friends. She is twenty-three years old and has a pretty dark past. But she decided to get herself out of trouble, started working as a cook a couple of years ago and it worked out really well. So when i saw her step in the doorway that morning, I didn't expect to see tears streaming down her cheeks. My heart immediately sank and i softly reached for her arm. I realized with anxiety that it was as cold as ice and covered in bruises. As she slowly turned around to face me, I noticed with horror that she had a huge black eye and that half her forehead was covered with a terrifying gradation of purple and dark blue bruises. She snuggled in my arms and as I hold her tight for what felt like a very long time, I felt overcome by powerlessness. Karina had stopped singing. The Earth had stopped spinning. Only remained scars left by a violent man and a big bare orange wall.
