![window_ga36034364_1280.jpg](https://images.ecency.com/DQmXobaZSXyj9ozARaR7Vv1KoHurgGWbHypp1k1qktX2dPX/window_ga36034364_1280.jpg)[source ](https://pixabay.com/images/id-5470985/ )

Like many other nights, this was peaceful, warm and repairing insurance. I closed my eyes, When I opened again, some figure was standing right front of me and started walking fast. It was night and I followed it simply.

The street was really dark, there was nobody else. On one side of the street there was a railing that indicated a small bridge; I could not listen to any water noise running. On the other hand, I could see some houses, very simple. One side by side. But nobody went out to our meeting. The light of the lantern fixtured, it was yellowish rather. He gave a little clarity, but he did not illuminate. The street was asphalt, mistreated and broken.

I just kept walking behind the figure that went before. Suddenly he entered one of the houses he was on the left. He opened something aged and closed. By simple instinct I followed it until the entrance and to my surprise, I was able to enter without any resistance.

Inside, the house was very humble, without any luxury; only the basics. He crossed in front of me the figure that I recognized as the person who had followed. He was a man.
I entered a room that looked small, like a bathroom. I followed the steps of him. Effectively it was. I could only see a small rusty and dirty small mirror that was hanging up the sink. I had no frame.

I stopped right in front of the mirror with the door behind me, looking at me. At that moment the man raised his bruised body and was also in front of the mirror, just his back in front of me. Our faces joined in the image he reflected. And there I realized that it was myself who looked. But with the faces of a man.

![alley_gbfdcb2735_1280.jpg](https://images.ecency.com/DQmNrhrPhWN6Gyxb2t92AQFAKcZA3E7viMVGjh9uFxFufGr/alley_gbfdcb2735_1280.jpg)[source ](https://pixabay.com/images/id-89197/ ) 

He was white, moderately tall and not very corpulent, his face (my face) was tanned by the sun and a lot of wrinkles were peeked, although he did not seem to go mid-aged. And powerfully he caught his attention to him. He had a white uniform, he looked like a priest.

This generated a little conflict, because I do not consider myself religious or mostly believing. But everything else was too overwhelming. We were the same person, he and me in him. He could not see me, and yet I followed him where he was. I did not feel afraid I was curious.

We went to the mass, I went back but present in everything. At the end of the trade, a young mother approached. Her walking was heavy and her eyes had no brightness. She had cried a lot, she was noticed in her skin, in her soul.

She asked for our help. Her young daughter had died mysteriously. And for some reason she knew that we could help save her. She asked us to save her at the precise moment of her death, the moment and exact place of her. But a few hours before.

At this point on the road she no longer had the intention of questioning anything. The feeling that I joined that man who was me, was so authentic that only that was enough for me to follow him.

As written by a script of a movie, we arrive at a party where people abounded. Children ran happy from one side to the other. All of our sordid mission. It was one of those simple houses, very similar to the routes in that street. Animated conversations, groups of people greeted us, approached. The children passed us close by running, laughter. It was something stunning to concentrate.

We were alert until we finally distinguish the daughter of that young mother. I had not seen her before, but internally knew that she knew her before; always. She was about 7 or 8 years, full of life. Of colour as white as of her mother, light hair, curls. A flower print dress, something worn but impeccably clean.

![little_girl_g86f573b7a_1280.jpg](https://images.ecency.com/DQmRaavij5emYVXBQgXg61pwjwJjM2a6LpXX8AfkoHphh2f/little_girl_g86f573b7a_1280.jpg)[source ](https://pixabay.com/images/id-2516582/ )

Who would want to damage it?
She ran along with other children. The name of it called me significantly; Alicia, Strong name, vivacious as the girl. We follow her with her eyes for a while, attentive; Waiting for the precise moment.

And that moment came. A resounding noise was heard just on the opposite side where the girl was. Impossible not to flip. Something had fallen with noisy fury, but without any danger. Everyone approached to see what happened, because it attracted attention.

And it was that instant, that little moment that marked us completely. In a carelessness on our part, the girl had died again. On the other side of space, lay the fragile body of the girl lying on the floor. Without a heartbeat and without explanation. She reigned the chaos, for them and for us.

We failed!, We could not fulfill the sole purpose of being here, now! We lost the life of who we should protect, failed. A very dense feeling of frustration, pain, impotence, anger was seized from us.

Without understanding that I had happened I opened my eyes and everything was familiar to me. My house, my body, myself. Everything ended up as it should not, if it once started. I'm still waiting for purpose of his visit to conclude our unfinished business. Both, together. If so it should be!