“Ecco cinquecento lire. Allora, lasciaci in pace!”

The fifteen year-old girl stares at them intently. Being there for so long made her tired of hearing those phrases. How rude, she thought.

“Non ho soldi spiccioli.”

Poor children. People everyone around her seemed not to care about them. She thought of herself. She has no permanent home. She’s always on the sidewalks wandering, waiting.

“Hey,” a voice from behind said.

She turned from behind. She saw a lady, a pretty lady with a cheerful smile. Her black tresses shine with the sun. Her face is bright, which added hopes to her heart that is doomed to failure.

“Parla inglese allora?” she asked.

“Si. I can speak in English,” the lady replied.

“Oh. So, what do you need?”

“Nothing. I’m just curious. I’ve been seeing you frequently here. I started to stay near here 3 months ago.”

“So you’re not an Italian.”

“No.”

“Me neither. I’m just used with the surroundings here.”

“It seems that you have stayed here for so long. By the way, I’m Marié.” The lady said her name as she beams gleefully.

The girl seemed to hear her name before, but she didn’t know when.

“I’m Martha.”

Marié paused for a while.

“I know this, I know this.”  Marié mumbles repeatedly for some reason.

“Huh? What do you know?”

Marié looked at her intently, as if she was examining her from head to toe. Martha got puzzled with her actions.

“How old are you?” Marié asked.

“Fifteen.”

Fifteen. Fifteen. Marié thought. Its been fifteen years since she survived the deadly disease that made her stay away from the persons she loved the most. Suddenly, she realized that she’s reminiscing the past. The past that all began in Italy.

“Are you all right?”

“Sorry. I just remembered something. Anyway, you want to eat?” Marié asked her. She felt so good having this girl by her side.

“Sure. Grazie.” Martha thankfully answered her. Still, confusion is in her mind why this stranger is doing these things to her. But, she had that feeling of comfort with this woman.