Even today I don’t understand what got into me. Some people would tell you that I am a very tenacious person. That when I want something, I do whatever it takes to get it, and I always read everything about stuff I don’t know. But what got into me this time...I will never understand: some devilish force or maybe it was my destiny trying to tell me that I needed to change my life completely. I will never know. Was it a curse, was it a blessing? I can only be sure of one thing: since -it- happened, my life took a dramatic turn and I will never be the same anymore. I’ll tell you what happened to me, this is something I have not told anyone ever, and I feel like I need to write it down before I die, or before something terrible happens to me. My name is Nicole and this is my story. 

In 2005, my husband left for Europe, leaving me and Vicky, our daughter. He went over there because he met another woman and wanted to change his life and forget about us. I don’t know why, I’ve always been a good wife, and Vicky has always been a good daughter. I was 40 at that time, and Vicky was 15, we both were devastated by this, but at least, we had each other. 

While my daughter Vicky was at school, me on the other hand, I was a manager in a bank. I was lucky enough to work with my best friend Susan, also a manager but in another department. She was almost a childhood friend, we met when we were in high school and decided to stay friends and we both knew everything about each other and we trusted each other. That trust was perfect and we both protected it. As you know, when trust is broken, it is very hard to repair it. Susan and I have done everything together from skydiving, bungee, travel around the globe with backpack. When one of us thinks about something mischievious or challenging to do, we usually do it together like partners in crime. I really love my friend Susan, she’s fun, athletic, intelligent, open minded and always in the mood to do something out of the ordinary. She always say: “Let’s try it!” 

Well, we did that one too many times. 

Susan had two daughters. Sarah was 18, a bit older than my daughter and a good college student. She was friends with my daughter, but not as much as Allison who was 15 just like Vicky. Both girls were funny because they were also best friends, just like me and Susan, it kind of echoed our lifelong friendship and it was nice. Susan’s husband Gary was an airplane pilot and was almost never there, but was providing good money for his family and while Susan and her daughters really missed him, they were able to live their lives with his absence without being too affected by it. 

Susan, the girls and I were often hanging out together, either at Susan’s place or ours. The girls would play whatever games and Susan and I would talk around a good tea or coffee, mostly about life, love and work, but sometimes about other more personal things. Vicky and Allison were in the same soccer team, so we would often carpool to practices and of course cheer together for match days. Sarah being a bit older, was starting to date guys and would join us a bit less often, but was still living at Susan’s house. Life was a bit monotone, I was not having much aspirations with my work, Susan didn’t have any either, and basically, weeks were repeating themselves with little changes to our routine. In 2005 it was like that. 

But then, like I said in the beginning, things changed big time at some point. Something very peculiar happened one day at a soccer game and while it was just a little something that looked petty and harmless, I couldn’t shake it off my head. 

Susan and I, we were cheering for our daughters, sitting in the bleachers beside the local soccer field. It had rained a bit in the morning and the field and surrounding areas, including the gravel parking, were still a bit wet. We knew the girls had fun sliding around tackling the soccer ball and getting all dirtied up by the mud and Susan and I were watching our favorite soccer team and players with our umbrellas ready, just in case rain would come back. It was a typical Saturday afternoon. Soccer match. Other parents were cheering for their kids, festive ambiance.

We were sitting on the bleachers about mid height, there were some parents in front of us and some parents behind us and the metal bleachers had almost like 20 people in them. Then I saw him. A boy, maybe 7 or 8 years old. His head was laying sideways inches from Susan’s dirty sneakers she always wore to go to soccer matches. He was standing under the bleachers, nobody would see him. He was tall enough to stand under there and be very very close to our feet, and he was actually laying his head down near Susan’s sneaker and it was really disturbing because he was also very close to my own feet. Now it got me thinking: what was this boy doing down there, why was he that close to my friend Susan’s shoe, who was he, and for how long has he been there doing that. I looked up at Susan, she was completely oblivious, watching the match and looking at her daughter playing soccer. I couldn’t stop looking back down at that boy and back at my friend, and back at the game, and then again in a loop. Something bothered me in what I was seeing, and I couldn’t tell what it was. Seeing that boy down there at my friend’s feet made me want to tell her. 

But no. I didn’t. I was really about to tap on her shoulder and say: psst, there is a boy close to your sneakers. But I didn’t do anything. I just looked at him, looked at my friend, looked at the game, looked at my daughter then back at him, still there not moving. What was wrong with him, but more importantly, what was wrong with me? I felt like...something was wrong. Why did I want to watch him, why wasn’t I telling my friend Susan of this? Why not? Something prevented me from breaking this moment, maybe because first, I thought it was beautiful, and second, maybe because I wanted to see what he would do next. Then it got me thinking, has he ever done this to me before, on previous matches, days before, years before, how long has he been sticking his face to people’s shoes? So many questions, so little answers.