He could hardly open his eyes when the sun brightly shone into his bedroom. The rooster's typical wakeup call was an unwelcome reminder of the night before. Too many drinks. Too many hours. He had said goodbye to a lot of friends. Still he was convinced he would find his way back here eventually. This city was his soul. And became his life. Yes, he would return. The questions that remained were when, how and even more so… why?

I can't recall how much time passed since it happened. An arm reached for my throat out of nowhere and lifted me off the ground with great force. It was one of the drunks that lived out on the streets of the harbor. He smelled horrible, had a crude and unshaved appearance and was yelling something to me though I couldn´t quite make out the words.. Still, something about his face, his eyes, somehow appealed to me. 'Come work for me! Learn about life! I'll show you the way, you show me the means!' Or something like that.

Suddenly we are being surrounded by ten big, tattooed sailors. Not the type of guys to mess around with. The small, stinking alley we were standing in was filled with large body parts. No way out and the sailors were out for blood. My blood. Then, all of a sudden, a high pitched scream cut through the sailors´ grunts and growls. The crowd opened up as one by one the men were being pushed aside. Striding proud, and a little bit angry, someone approached me. My savior. My mum.

The smelly drunk let go of me in a reflex and I fell hard to the ground. The marks of his sticky rough hands are left in my neck. Without hesitation I tried to calm my mother down. The drunk tried to offer some well meant apologetic words to my mum, but they didn't seem to be helping much.

As a flash before my eyes, everything suddenly seemed clear to me. I wanted to see. I wanted to know why a man like this roamed these harbor streets drunk and yelling at strangers. I wanted to feel his hands around my throat and see what would happen next. I didn't want to be saved... read on