“Good people always lose.”
She had an allergy to goodness. (Being good.) She was a teenager with a life which could easily be a novel.
She never saw her parents hug each other. They never kissed or said something nice. All they did was to simply live apart. She grew with drivers and service people. She grew with teenagers who were let loose and had no limitations. They were always about thrill, fun, adrenaline and crushing cars. May be crushing was the only way to stop these cars. (This kind of existing.) One would wonder why she rushed to die this soon. Her life was never normal. She trusted no one, especially no men. She could not name at least 5 good men. Only grandpa. Grandpa was gone. She had to live without him.
When she spoke you could sense anger, pain and grudges. But then when she spoke about animals she softened. Animals were always better than humans. Especially horses.
After months of sessions with her there came a time to say goodbye. We hugged. She had a letter written by me that said:
“Sometimes good people win.”
She was not responsible for her past. She would be responsible for her future decisions. We said farewell. And she had tears in her eyes as she left. I was standing and watching her leave. I had to continue session with other teenagers with stories that could easily compete with hers.