As a kid she used to run a round naked at the backyard of her family's house. Later, when her father died, she and her mother had to move into a smaller apartment in the big city. There was no backyard where she could play so she stayed home most of the time.
    Lucas was the name of a kid who lived two stairs below. Mary was a bit afraid of him and he always used to tease her because she would not go anywhere without her mother.
    The years went as Mary grew. She had always been a quiet kid. Never saying much, especially when there were many strangers in the room.

She was only seventeen when she met a boy, called Tim. His full name was Timothy Aufer, but nobody said that. It was Tim or Timmy. They never did anything, but kissing. Of course Tim wanted to, but he didn't want to push her, knowing how fragile she was. And she was too shy to take the first step.
    She loved him. She really did. But she was very shy and easy embarrassed so she did not put up any fight when she, one day, saw Tim walking hand in hand with another girl. Tim saw Mary, but pretended not to see her and she did the same. As she came home she cried and buried her face into the pillow. She knew it was over and Tim never called, neither did she. She never saw him again.

It was three days to Christmas Eve and Mary had just turned twenty-one. She found a bird, lying next to the road, covered in snow and blood. Gently she picked the poor thing up. Its heart was still beating. She put it under her coat to protect it from wind and went like that all the way home.
    The bird must have died somewhere on the way, because when she picked it out from under her coat it was no longer breathing and its heart had stopped.
    She cried and threw the bird out the window. Later she wondered why. Maybe she wished it would fly again.

One year later her mother died. She had fallen of a cliff, probably broken her neck or drowned. Mary didn't know which, she didn't want to know. She did not want to believe that her mother was really gone. This was a hard time for Mary.
    She cried that night. It seemed like crying was the only thing she was really good at. Her tears dried quickly, but there always were new at store. So she cried as a little girl, scared and helpless.

Mary was lonley. She missed the perfect life she had always been dreaming of, but never experienced. It seemed like every single thing she had ever done in life had gone wrong in one way or another. She was tired. Tired of always failing. Tired of the stream of never-ending tears. Tired of everything.
    Lost in grief and pain Mary soon lost her grip of reality. She did not know if she wanted to live or die. It did her the same which.

Mary was at the breaking point when she met Andy. It was like a whole new world had opened up right in front of her nose. Pain was such a subtle feeling, she had never experienced true happiness or joy. No wonder she believed every word Andy said. She was happy. She was untroubled. Or so she thought.
   Andy showed her some people. Soon Mary would find she was one of them.
    We are the praying kind," he said. "We don't drink. We don't take drugs, but we are happy."
   Mary got a job and gave most of her money to Andy. Andy told her God wants her to work and pray. There are no more important things than working and praying.

Years went and Mary worked hard. There were times when she forgot who she was and why she was doing what she was doing.
    She drank her coffee and made her prayers. God did not listen much, but she did not care. Life could not seem less important right then anyway.
   She worked and prayed for Andy, who had released her tainted soul. Finally she knew she had a purpose in life. Though, she had not much time to think about it since she had to work. It was good; work cleared her mind, kept the bad thoughts away. She had not cried for years.
   Mary was happy.