The Sweet Encounter (1.2)
I was five years old, playing alone in my room, when suddenly I heard my mother shouting. I rushed to her, worried.
She was standing in her room with a girl. When she saw me, she smiled and said,
"She is Scynthia. She's your new friend."
I looked at the girl. She seemed to be around eight years old. The moment I saw her, I felt something I couldn't explain.
Scynthia smiled kindly at me and said,
"So, what do you want to do now? Want to play? Or maybe go for a walk or read something?"
I was stunned. I couldn't respond right away, but after a moment, I quietly said,
"Can you help me with my studies?"
She smiled brightly and said,
"Of course."
Months passed.Scynthia slowly became like a caretaker to me.
Sometimes we walked together, sometimes we played. We laughed a lot.
Those days were filled with joy—simple, quiet joy that meant everything to me.
Two years passed.
One day, she saw me—
I was badly bruised.
Cuts covered my hands, my legs, and parts of my body.
Her expression turned tense, full of concern.
She asked,
"What happened to you?"
I hesitated.
But she kept pressing gently until I finally spoke.
"I was beaten… by bullies.
They do it every day.
Sometimes they smoke near me… sometimes they slam me to the ground, cut me with sharp things… laugh at me."
Before I could say more, she stopped me.
Her voice was firm, filled with protective anger.
"You're not going back to that school anymore.
From now on, I'll teach you everything myself."
I stood there, speechless.
Something inside me stirred.
A strange mix of emotions—gratitude, warmth, a feeling I couldn't name.
In my heart, I whispered silently:
"She's the only one.
Without her, I would have no chance of surviving in this cruel world.
I have a mother… but she doesn't care for me.
So… thank you.
Thank you from my heart."