It all began on her fifteenth birthday; I was fifteen also. When I was fourteen my parent were murdered. I didn’t go to school; I lived in a dark, rundown house with nineteen other homeless people. Hungry I ate beetles, stole plants from out of gardens, and fished. My only reason for living was Paulita Florez a black Indian mix. She too was a ragged, parentless child. When she was twelve she was found bleeding to death from a knife cut into her wrist. My parents took her in, but then they died. We were like two wild animals looking for food, and sleeping together to keep warm.

     Life near the rainforest was primitive. We had no electricity, no house, water or plumbing, and no telephone. I did have a lot of friends, and I loved, loved, loved Paulita so much. She was a beautiful dream come true. I was very, very, very happy living there then. My daily activities included fishing, playing games with my friends, getting high, spending time with Paulita in our secret hideout, and hiding from soldiers when they came through. Although I didn’t go to school, a missionary taught me to read and write Spanish and English. Then at night Paulita and I would join the village people to sing and dance and listen to stories. Every night someone would tell a story about “the old days.” One old storyteller told about the time when the animals and spirits lived in the forest in peace . He said, “The world changed to violence when men began killing the animals, and then the men started killing each other.” He said, ”If men would stop killing animals and each other, the world would become peaceful again like it was when Aras created it.”

     Paulita and I were deeply in love and physically mature for our age. She also could read and write. She wanted to get a job and have a home and a family. In her brown eyes I could see fear and sorrow, and also hope, joy and love. When she smiled at me, my body would draw close to hers. Love poured between us. We were one. “Julian, we have each other. Can we go to Barchargo or Medeyell and get married now?” I was a little hesitant, “Paulita, there won’t be any work there for us; we might just be more starving homeless kids on the street. Here we can get some food from the Mission, and Padre Pasion said he will help us build a loom. As soon as we make some money, I promise to marry you.”

     For Paulita’s fifteenth birthday I broke into a house and stole a gold necklace and some gold jewelry. I gave Paulita the necklace and had Padre take a photograph of us together. The next day I was on a high and told her we would go get married. “I’ll always love you,” I whispered in her ear. “I love you too,” she replied. “When and where do you want to go, and how?” she asked.