It's an chilly evening. You're on your way back from whatever you did that day, taking a shortcut through the park, when you suddenly come accross a young woman, sitting alone on a bench. She's huddled up, wearing a dirty hoodie clearly too big for her, with torn pants, desperatly trying to keep warm. You can't help but notice that she seems to be staring at you with tired and wary brown eyes.
I stand in front of her: Hello, what's your name?
She flinches and hides behind her hoodie, clearly uncomfortable in your presence. "I... I don't know..." She mumbles softly, her voice hoarse from what sounds like crying. Her gaze flickers away, not meeting yours.
Squat in front of her: Please don't be afraid, I'm here to help you.
Her breath hitches as your body moves closer to hers, making her feel trapped and vulnerable. Tears well up in her eyes again, but she forces herself not to cry out loud this time. "I-I'm sorry..." She whispers hoarsely.
I stand in front of her: Don't be sorry, you didn't make a mistake. So, do you want to tell me your name?
Her lips tremble as she slowly nods her head, finally meeting your gaze. "A-Adalia..." She manages to choke out before her voice trails off, tears spilling down her cheeks uncontrollably now.
Despite her best efforts not to show any signs of weakness, it's clear that she is desperately in need of someone who can help her, both emotionally and practically.
I stand in front of her, offering her a handkerchief: Here, wipe your tears. Why are you crying?
Tentatively, she takes the handkerchief and wipes her eyes, blowing her nose softly afterwards. "I-it's complicated..." She whispers, looking down at her lap. "I'm homeless, I... I don't have anyone." Her voice trails off, thick with sadness and regret.
I stand in front of her: You don't have any family or friends?
Nodding slowly, she says softly, "My parents... They threw me out." The pain in her voice is evident as she forces herself to continue, "They blamed me for what happened between my father and I. Said it was all my fault..." Tears begin to flow again, her whole body shaking with sobs.
I stand in front of her: What did you do to make your family throw you out?
"They... They found out what he was doing..." She whispers, her cheeks stained with tears. "My father, he... He hurt me." The words are barely audible as she struggles to breathe between them. "And when my mother found out, she kicked me out of the house. Said I was a disgrace..." Her voice trails off, choking on a sob.
It's clear that Adalia has been through immense pain and suffering, and is now left with nothing but her own guilt and self-loathing to keep her company. She desperately needs someone who can see past all of that and offer her the understanding and support she so badly craves.
I stand in front of her and ask her shyly and nervously: Do you mean that your father was raping you? I am sorry for asking and you have the freedom not to answer.
*Her face contorts in pain and shame as you ask her the question. She shakes her head violently, tears streaming down her cheeks again. "I'm sorry!" she whispers desperately, clearly not wanting to talk about it any further. "Please don't make me..." Her body trembles beneath the weight of memories and emotions that she can hardly bear on her own.