There was something inviting about the silence; in the way
it wrapped around you like a comfortable blanket, leaving no
room for worries or doubts. It was intense, powerful.
I looked around me; there was no one there, just the
silence. I smiled and lightly touched my lips. 'So this is a
smile', I thought, 'I had almost forgotten what it feels
like'.
The sky stretched above me. Extraordinarily clear, not even
a cloud. I wondered for a second, like they always do in
movies, if anyone else was looking at the sky at that very
moment. I tried to feel the connection between us, but there
was nothing there, only loneliness. I looked at the sky
again, as if trying to see beyond what is visible to the
human eye, trying to see God. But God wasn't there tonight;
God wasn't watching out for me. I was completely alone in
the world.
I covered myself with an old blanket and tried to pretend my
backpack was a comfortable pillow.

I closed my eyes and tried to remember what my mom looked
like, her beautiful smile and big eyes. I could probably
describe her every feature separately, tell you all about
her longish nose and small chin, but I couldn't put together
a clear image of her.
I remember when I was little, my mom used to call me her
Angel. She always said that my long blond hair made me look
Angelic. "You are special," she would say, "God will always
want to keep you close". My mom's soothing voice always made
this statement sound like a blessing.
My mom also made me dress up as an Angel every year at
Halloween. "Here" she would say, handing me a beautiful
white gown. "Look at how magnificent it is this year... it's
just like you wanted" she always looked at me for approval.
Her big eyes trying to encourage me to say: 'Yes mom, thank
you very much, it's wonderful, exactly what I wanted'. But I
always remained silent. "I spent weeks working on it". Which
she did. I remember her sitting in her bedroom, sewing away
for weeks before Halloween. She always made sure that it was
a different costume each year. But me, I wanted to be like
all the other kids, I wanted to explore and experiment with
different costumes and ideas. I wanted all of my friends to
be surprised when I walked into the room. But they never
were.
"What a surprise, you're an Angel... again".
"Yeah, again" I would say.  
Every year I would get mad at her, no matter how hard she
tried to make the costume different. How I miss her now.

I turned to my side, trying to make the cardboard beneath me
take the shape of my body. Slowly I opened my eyes again and
looked around me. All I could see was a garbage can with a
few cats around it. It was almost like they were having a
debate over whether or not they should jump in. I had a cat
once, his name- and yes, I insist on saying 'his', rather
than 'it'- was Milky. I thought it very clever of me to call
him that, although he never quite enjoyed drinking milk. He
was a beautiful Siberian cat, and a wonderful addition to
the family. I remember when I first got him, for my eighth
birthday. I was truly surprised when I opened the door to my
room, and he was there, sitting on my bed.
"It's for you," said my dad, and I smiled at him and gave
him a kiss.
"His name is now... Milky! And please, dad, please don't
call him 'it'". My dad just smiled at me, his beautiful
green eyes sparkling.
"You are a very smart girl, you know that, right?" he held
me so close to his body I could smell the freshness of his
aftershave.
"Go ahead, touch him" he gave me a pat on the shoulder, and
a little push. "Don't be scared, he's not going to bite or
scratch you. He is very well behaved".
I remember touching his soft gray fur for the first time. My
small hands, trying to be as gentle as possible, but my
childish clumsiness got in the way. Milky sprung of the bed
as if his tail was on fire, and bitter tears filled my eyes.

"It is O.K., Angel, you have nothing to worry about, you two
will have plenty of time to get used to each other". He
wiped my tears and tenderly fixed my hair. "Let's go and eat
your cake, ok? Everyone's waiting for the guest of honor".

I touched my cheek, which was wet with tears. But my dad
wasn't there to wipe them or tell me that everything was
going to be O.K. I sighed. The coldness of the concrete
beneath me penetrated my skin like needles. This definitely
wasn't my nice warm bed at home. Well, I learned that home
is where you make it, and the street corner, was my home.

I often wonder what people think when they pass by me on the
street. Sitting there with my little sign that says a whole
lot of nothing, hoping that someone will give me enough
money to buy some breakfast.
When I was younger, I used to take my little sister for long
walks. We would walk around the city, or at least the main
streets and talk. I remember one time she saw a young
mother, sitting with her baby on the sidewalk and begging
people for money. She wasn't quietly destitute, like I
turned out to be; she screamed and sobbed so loudly the
entire street could hear her. My sister just stood there,
about a meter away from the woman and stared. I tried to
shake her out of it, I pushed her hoping she would move, but
nothing worked. She just stayed there, as if her feet had
been glued to the floor.
"Come on, let's go" I walked around her trying to get her
attention. "Why aren't you moving?" I glanced quickly at the
poor young woman. "We have to go. Do you want to give her
some money?" She didn't reply, a vacant expression on her
face.
"Here, look, twenty dollars, ok? Is that enough? Lets just
go, please"
My sister was a peculiar creature. Although she was only a
year younger than me we were surprisingly different. Some
people found it hard to believe that we were sisters. She
had dark long hair and beautiful deep eyes. She was one of
the most sensitive and caring people I have ever met. Her
greatest ambition in life was to help those less fortunate
than herself. She was a genuinely good person, my best
friend and guardian Angel.

Laughter in the distance distracted my mind for a second,
and I lost the clear image of that day. It faded away and I
was back on the cardboard, covered with an old blanket,
trying to protect myself from the cold. I wished I could
hold on to those images just a little longer.

I glanced at the sky one last time and forever closed my
eyes...


Good Night.