Cliché story

One kid among the others.

Always last in game, always crushing on the wrong boys, always being the first one to go inside in the evening because well, she was the youngest of them all.

One kid among the others.

Always pushed aside and taken advantage of, always being laughed at, always found first during 'hide-and-seek', always getting beaten because she was too stubborn to give up.

One kid among the others, one single drop in the ocean of tears she cried all of her life. Childish or not, they were all of her world and she would have followed if they would have looked at her and see the summer in her eyes. She would have swung the swing higher, she would have let them take away all of her cherries, she would have kept silent when hearing monster like voice under her window. 

One teenager single among so many others.

Always striking for more, always liking the wrong guy, always growing up in the wrong way.

One girl among million of others.

Living in the outskirts of the city, surrounded by cats and dogs, always having to walk miles to the school. She saw trees growing older and  looking younger with every spring and summer that came, she laughed at the flowers on her window sill despite their thorns, she saw roots covering the once so walked paths. Roads she used to walk on - now gone, trees she used to climb in - brought down by an ax, the swig she love so much - destroyed and thrown away, the next-door-nanny - long gone dead.

How is it that we can't turn back time? Feel the same wind against our cheeks during the terrible winter? Feel the pain of the bruised knees and still get on the bike, challenging the birds high up in the sky? How is it that the grass feels different against the new and tired soles - it stings and cuts the skin... How come we are left all alone when there are so many people that used to surround you?

They all leave, they all forget, they all get lost.

But not this girl.

She remembers: the wind during a torrid summer, the summer storm that soaked her to the skin, the winter games down a hunched hill, the mud sticking to her new shoes in the autumn, the long walks during the first days of spring. 

She never got flowers from boys, she was never popular and her first kiss was stolen by a guy who made a bet with his friends.

And still, she remembers all of them; white and black, sepia-coloured, mute and unorganized movies she can always play in her mind. She can even smell the perfume of cakes during holidays, hear the sound of the roller blades against the paved alley and the thrill of a swallow that had settled down underneath the roof of her house.

So many little things they all have forgotten - she kept them hidden in her lil' heart. So that one day she will tell her kids about times that were greener, when the air was cleaner, when the kids would take naps at noon and play in the dirt with water. And she kept all of her old friends inside her heart as well - for they are the first people she knew; they were her people, a bunch of crazy kids whistling under the neighbors' windows.

Yeah, one kid among them all.

One crazy teen among so many others.

One single girl out of a million that still holds tight on her first memories of a world that is about to disappear.