The Backpacker's Road - Teenage
The sun's heat, fortunately for us, wasn't giving a burning sensation to our skin as we waited patiently outside the church for the mass to start. A tribute mass to the mother of our firend, the once victim of human trafficking.
Standing under a shady tree on the side of the church, I was waiting with my other teenage friends.
Our friend friend from her own story in:
had invited our mutual twin friends with their own story in:
and our sweet friend, the daughter of the taxi driver in her own story in:
and myself, in this story of my own.
While waiting, we were telling each other about our own story. Until the woman reporter, a journalist herself and became a close friend of our teenage friend, whom she interviewed, came to join us.
She herself, the journalist, added her own story of:
I was still in the process of recovery. All my friends came to hug me.
"Luke's father has led me to prostitution. It was the condition if I wanted to stay with Luke. And so I did whatever he asked me. Luke found out. He said he would make his father pay."
My narration was interrupted by my journalist friend.
"Where is he now? Where is Luke?"
I was released from the hugs of my friends as I faced to answer the question.
"Right after he found out, he disappeared. The next thing I knew, there was a raid by the police authorities. The business of his father was dismantled and he was arrested along with the others."
One of the twin's finished my story.
"And Luke was also arrested, because he was a drug dealer."
The woman reporter/journalist knodded to give her understanding of the story.
Then someone from the church made an announcement to enter as the mass would start soon. So we went in.
Then we saw the journalist friend moving toward a coming car. A man came out. She talked to him about something while grabbing his arm to walk together to the church, while turning their faces to us. She waved and smiled. The man looked at us, I believe especially to me for a moment, then tapped the hand of our friend with him.
I asked my friends.
"Who is he?"
The taxi driver's daughter answered my question.
"That is her father. A well known, good and honest police officer."
We continued walking towards the church. Looking up at the sky, I notice a white dove on top of the church's cross.
I sighed a heartfelt relief and smiled looking at the light blue sky with its beautiful dancing clouds as always.
I said a line as I closed my eyes to see the face of the Lord.
