STORY OF AN ORPHAN

I am not a person who shows his emotions. Rather I stay in a corner and try to hide as much as possible. And I don't want questions, or reproachful looks. I don't want anyone to see me and think that maybe I need more affection, a shoulder to cry on, an outlet. My depression has nothing to do with any of this. Anyway, hello doctor. I read your name among the papers of my adoption: unfortunately a bit complex name and I can't remember it. At 18, I asked my adoptive parents for all the papers, you know? I already had curiosity when I was thirteen but in those days I was doing too much trouble and my mother thought that overnight I would run away from home or find me hanged somewhere. He said that Satan was in me. She also wanted to take me to an exorcist, and most of the time I would send her to fuck or scream a curse, then I invented the excuse that the devil had possessed me. I had a great time.
When I had the adoption papers in my hand, I photocopied them all and searched the internet. Doctor, let's say that somehow you disappeared too because bho I couldn't find you. Then there was that fucking newspaper article, written in a language unknown to me, I remember reading my presumed name, maybe the name you decided to give me, you have a lot of creativity, you know. There was my name and yours, I just didn't understand everything else and there was an image of a little girl who looked just like me when I was about 9 years old. I wanted to track you down to thank you, for taking me off the street and taking me with you. Maybe it's also thanks to you that I got this thing of having to save and help people. When I tell about this part of my life, people are always sorry. And it may seem really sad, but every time I talk about it I always think of you doctor. You gave me a fresh start, I love being here, but I miss my mum and my dad too. I regret only this of my life. I would like to know if you know anything, if you have actually ever known them, if at least you can describe their eyes, their scent, their voice. Did you have this luck, doctor? You know which of the two I look the most like. I want to know if my mom remembers me, I want to know if she still loves me, because I have never stopped loving her and thinking about her, even if I don't remember her, even if I have suffered all my life for the emptiness she has left inside me. Tell me if she came looking for me somewhere. If she ran to your hospital to find out where I was. Tell me she got angry, that she really never wanted me to grow up on my own. I still feel I belong to that world and I hope to return soon, in that same street maybe where you found me, doctor. To be aware that it all started from there and to be able to live it peacefully, without tears. The thing I want most would be to see them from afar, perhaps holding hands and kissing in the streets of the market. I wish it were so. I couldn't tell her about my life, it was an obstacle course. Doctor, tell my parents I'm fine. Tell him that even if I haven't reached any milestones in my life for now, I will get to have more money, to do something I enjoy. Tell them I miss them so much.

Love, the little girl you picked up from the street.

%d bloggers like this: