—You are a very pretty girl. Take this little welcome gift to my bus. —He said, as he transferred a piece of candy from his hands to mine.

Boy, did I judge the man before his time. Now he seemed like the only man I should trust from that moment on. I smiled. I took the candy from his hand and he made a gesture that demanded a kiss from me on his left cheek.

Hey, he was a man who had given me candy, of course he deserved a kiss from me. I pressed my lips together and intoned the future kiss I would deposit on his cheek. The man, flattered, returned the kiss on my cheek. It seemed like a beautiful act at the time.

My spirits rose to joy and I travelled happily on that bus, accompanied by those children of dubious origin.

The journey was somewhat exhausting, as my ears were filled with that roar that is always emitted by those infants who can't stand the heat, the light, the souls in pain that pass through the streets and that you only see through the window of the school bus.

Along with all that, you could hear in the background that unhappy music that the driver played on the horns between the corners of each seat.

I remembered that back then I had no idea where I was going. My mother abandoned me on that bus and didn't even bother to tell me where I was going. For a four-year-old, imagination was her only friend, and mine was something extraordinary.

From that moment on I thought they had given me to another family, or maybe they wanted to get rid of me, sending me somewhere where they couldn't even see me. From then on I hinted at a different life, and the amazing thing about this story is that I took it splendidly.

I would never see my brothers again. In short, I would no longer tolerate that hypocritical look from the woman we used to call —grandmother—.

I looked up and watched through the window as the bus slowed down. I assumed we had reached our destination, but we had not. A girl, taller than me, was standing next to the driver, with curly hair, small eyes and full lips.

She had a dark complexion and was dressed in a different outfit from mine. The girl got on the bus and received the same candy from the obese man. She responded as I had the first time, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

I no longer felt like a special girl. I did it with every girl who got on his bus. Ignoring him, I watched the girl walk, as she reached the back of the bus and looked for an empty seat.

Right next to me there was an empty seat and she decided to use it. As she sat down, she grabbed my hand without my permission.

—Hi, my name is Laleska, what's yours? —she asked me as she caressed my hand against hers.

At that tender age, shyness and I were one. I pulled my hand away and turned back to the window. I didn't answer her question, perhaps I was overcome with mistrust.

She, instead, sought me out for conversation. She told me how old she was, where she lived and that she had five siblings. Something in her voice made me laugh, and I burst out laughing.

Laleska knew how to gain my trust. Although, come to think of it, it wasn't that hard for a girl. As I exchanged my smile with her, a yearning arose to answer her first question.

—My name is Melanie Frank,— I replied, in a very low tone.

Laleska looked me straight in the eye and took my hand. There I was with my first friend.

When the bus stopped again, I thought that someone else would climb the small stairs to the entrance of the bus, but that was not the case. We had arrived at our destination.

A tall woman with a huge ponytail calls each child on the bus by name. When I hear my name, I take a few steps forward.

I introduce myself to this tall, dark-eyed woman. I thought of her as a person of great influence, or that she was the woman who would become my mother from now on?

A girl's mind can wander in a thousand unexpected ways. She took me with one hand, and with the other she held the hand of a pale-skinned boy. We started walking towards the entrance of a giant building.

It had green walls and yellow pillars. Above the main door there were huge words written on it. I couldn't read, so I imagined them as hieroglyphics unidentified by my brain.

After entering, it was an elongated corridor, and at every metre there was a door. —That's it, mum didn't want me and sent me to prison— I thought innocently. Suddenly I heard a strange and loud noise.

RING, RING, RING!

Dozens of children came out of all the doors, screaming, talking, running and crying.

—Apart from sending me to jail, they sent me to a jail for screaming children,— I said in a whispering voice.

The lady very kindly left me in front of a door and, with a pat, pushed me towards its entrance. I found myself in front of a huge group of snot-faced children. We were all dressed alike, it was creepy.

—Welcome, can you say your full name? I was hinted at by the woman who was sitting cross—legged.

The woman was wearing a skirt that didn't reach her knees, so her legs were in the air. I obeyed and said my full name in front of some children who were obviously not paying attention.

As soon as I finished, the woman asked me to take a seat anywhere. I looked up and searched for an exact place to sit. And there it was.

My eyes were completely mesmerised as I slowly passed over a particular seat that was occupied. Yes, that seat where he was. A boy with a snot-free face and perfectly shiny hair.

I looked at him dumbfounded and chose the seat on his right. I sat down and couldn't help but look in his direction. Clear, sky blue eyes. Brown hair, freckles on his cheeks. Her skin was pale and her cheeks were flushed.

I noticed he was smiling and I couldn't take my eyes off him. At only four years old, I felt my heart beat a little faster. My mother may have sent me to prison, but damn it, I loved that prison.

From that day on, I enjoyed the glow in her eyes. I could feel an incredible luminescence around her, like something out of a novel. I didn't take my eyes off her for the duration of the talk that the bare-legged woman gave us.

I was in the middle of four white walls, surrounded by crying children. But, the satisfaction of feeling that pale-skinned child next to me outweighed the disgust of the others.

RING, RING, RING! It boomed from the speakers in one of the four walls surrounding our little bodies.

The woman, who greeted me well, leaned out of a door at the back of the room and with a command invited us all to leave the insipid place in columns.

I immediately stood up and obeyed; after all, in prisons it is a common thing to do. When only my feet landed on the outside, I looked up and in front of me was a myriad of madness.