The day after my mom left, I didn't bother to tidy myself up. My face was twisted, and my eyes burned from the tears I had shed all night. They didn't stop flowing even after I woke up. At that moment, there was only one person I wanted to see, someone whose support I desperately needed, so I went straight to Raul.
It was still very early, and everyone was just getting ready for school, but when he saw me, he stopped. When he saw me in that state, he didn't understand what had happened. I told him about the previous night. I wouldn't say he looked surprised, but his face showed genuine sympathy for what had happened. Still, he spent a long time trying to calm me down, promising to be there for me and to help me with everything.
That grim morning, I told him everything. About what I had been through over the years. Things I hadn't shared with him during our previous meetings. I also shared my mom's warning about people looking for me, about a place I must never go, about how I didn't understand what it all meant. About what I had endured at home and all the bullying I had faced at school and in life.
He listened to me attentively for a long time. But then, as if boiling water had been poured over him, he suddenly slapped me across the face.
In that moment, I was stunned. He looked at me and asked:
"Well, did that hurt? I'm asking you, did it hurt?" he repeated.
I was horrified by his behavior. I hadn't expected this and was deeply frightened. I didn't know what to do: whether to keep crying over my mom's departure or over the fact that my idol had just hit me.
Then he looked at me again and said:
"This is nothing compared to what's waiting for you in the future. This slap will feel like a mosquito bite, tiny and insignificant. So, are you going to pull yourself together? Or don't ever come near me again!"
At that moment, I felt like I had been deceived all these years. I didn't understand the reason for his behavior. I stared at him, unable to utter a word. It was as if a lump had stuck in my throat, and I couldn't say anything.
I felt even sorrier for myself because I didn't need a scolding. I needed pity, compassion, and warmth. I wanted my friend to hug me, like he had four years ago, and promise me that everything would be okay. But instead, he was pushing me away, just like my mom had pushed me away the day before.
I was furious, disappointed. I boiled inside. I barely held myself back from retaliating. All I could do was walk away. So I turned around and ran.
That day, I wandered aimlessly around the city for hours. I didn't go to work, I didn't go to school—I just walked wherever my feet took me.
When it started to get dark, and I had somewhat calmed down, I returned home. As I approached the house, I saw Raul standing there, waiting for me. He had been waiting for me all day. A pile of cigarette butts lay on the ground in front of him. I knew he smoked occasionally, but I had never seen so many butts before.
Our eyes met. He looked at me, and though his eyes were bloodshot, he smiled. It was clear that Raul had been scared, that he had been worried.
I smiled back at him, my anger already fading, and we moved closer. He grabbed me by the shoulders, and we hugged. We hugged like brothers, like we had on that first day. Like two lonely people with different destinies.
After some time, I understood what he had meant. I understood why he had done it. It wasn't a slap; it was a lifeline. He wanted me to wake up. For him, it was the only way to make me accept and let go. We never spoke of that day again.
In that moment, it wasn't a sixteen-year-old boy standing in front of me, but a grown man who had also seen the harshness of life.
Yes, even after that day, I still felt lonely, I was still afraid of everything, and I still pitied myself. But over time, I learned to hide those feelings, to push away the dark thoughts. I fully embraced my loneliness and fear only when I was alone. After all, even though I no longer had my blood family, I had found a new family in my friends. These thoughts warmed me, and I began to change.
Over the next two years, my confidence grew. By then, I was earning my own money—not much, but enough. My mom also sent me small amounts of help. I had friends, a family in the form of Uncle Emi, Uncle David, Raul, and Mars.
I could see that things were starting to fall into place.
At Raul's insistence, I signed up for a theater class. He said I needed to participate in school activities. In different events. He scolded me for acting like a loner and an outcast, telling me I needed to be more active. He pointed out my mistakes, saying that everyone is afraid of something—including me, and him too.
"People just need a chance. Including yourself, especially yourself," he repeated every time I doubted myself.
"You're acting like an outcast! Stop it! Stop feeling sorry for yourself—people can sense it!"
Every time, he told me I had the potential to be a good actor. He literally dragged me to sign up for the theater class.
I didn't want to! Me? Theater? He practically forced me to enroll. So I sat in that class for a long time, pretending to enjoy it. I wanted to quit, but I didn't want to disappoint Raul, so I forced myself to keep going. But after a few months, when I started to fit in, I actually began to enjoy acting. And when I first stepped onto the stage as a tree in some children's play, I felt like I was soaring far, far away. I couldn't contain my emotions.
In that moment... when you're acting, you forget who you are, what you are. You don't ask yourself unnecessary questions—you just act and enjoy it. It helped me escape. I could feel my characters. And it wasn't just a tree. I could pour all my anger, all my hunger, all my longing for love into those roles. Not all the characters were leading roles, but in those moments, I forgot about myself. In that instant, I became anyone. Anyone but myself. It was an indescribable feeling.
And, oddly enough, our school loved theater. The whole school would gather for premieres—for many, it was a chance to skip classes and flirt with girls.
Yes, Raul was right. Over time, I started to become popular. Yes, it was very hard at first. Not everyone wanted to see me around. But I learned to ignore those people, and all those who didn't accept me and continued to look down on me became irrelevant. I pretended I didn't care. I just started ignoring them.
But honestly, despite all that, it wasn't enough for me. I wanted love and respect from everyone. And gradually, though not everyone, many of the kids at school started treating me much better.
I started getting invited to parties, and I made friends with shared interests.
It was as if these weren't the same people who had once made me want to die. As if we had always been friends. As if I had never been a poor, worthless loser in their eyes.
Even though things were getting better, my inner voice kept pulling me back to reality. I still felt resentment. I still wanted revenge. Any sideways glance in my direction, and I would dwell on it all day. It wouldn't let me go.
But despite the internal struggle, I learned to smile, to be polite and tactful. My acting talent, my performance both on stage and in life, could charm anyone. I smiled at them hypocritically, but I kept repeating to myself: "Someday, I'll get my revenge. On all of them. That day will come. They'll beg me to just have coffee with them, let alone be friends." In those moments, anger would consume my mind again and again. But I kept smiling.
And so, another two years passed.
When I woke up on March 15, like every other day, and like every morning, I went to the mirror. It wasn't the first time I looked at myself, but it was the first time I saw a new version of me. A very attractive guy. Thick black hair, dark brown eyes... Not bad, I thought in that moment. Yes, mentally I had grown up long ago, but physically, that realization came then. I started to see myself becoming a man.
As I studied myself carefully that day, on my fifteenth birthday, I made a vow to myself: "No more sadness."
I created a new tradition in my mind: no matter what happened, every year on March 15, I would gather the people I cared about around me. Those I loved, those who loved me.
Today is my birthday.