We passed through hallways adorned with family memories. They tell the story of the three that lived here once. In them a young girl, dressed modestly, always to the left, half smiles. A man, always center, seems either tired or off balance. His arm around his wife, with her child's smile. At the end of the hall is what we came for, a video on a cellphone. 

"This was your room?"

She nods.

"Why choose me to help?"

She points to my arms before fading away again. 

I play the video to hear "You made me do this honey. Honey?..."

I heard the cries

The pain, The fear

Hoping to be acknolwedged

Every octave, Every syllable

Pierced my ears,

Echoed through my core

Behind the walls protection

I glance to see your life

Spilling out

Each drop, in sync,

Weakens our resolve to fight

Your's to live

Mine to help