It was a secluded area, and to the best of my knowledge, yet to be discovered. Located in the small, almost unknown town of Pole Ojea, somewhere along the coasts of my small home island, Puerto Rico. It was one of Puerto Rico's many mountains that were yet to discovered, given an identity. So I claimed it as mine, seeing that the government had not yet had their chance to expose its beauties to the viscous public. As far as I knew or cared, I was the only one that I had ever stepped foot on this mountain.

That is, until she showed up.

Mama had been mad that day, although more at herself, it seemed, than any of us. She had locked herself in her room again, and although we knew what she was doing in there (we had found out through the badly hidden scars on her hands) none of us even bothered to make a repeat of the old days, where we would bang on her door and hide all the sharp objects in the house and hold her while she cried about everything and nothing.

You must think us monsters for giving up on our own mother {but who are we to fight for a lost cause?}

We all ran our different ways, none of us willing to stick around. Carlos, the second oldest at 21, went to work at the salon that I had been trying to convince my mother to close down, since I now had enough money to provide for all of us. She said no, of course, because that salon is the only thing that assures her she hasn't failed completely as a mother. Benito had gone off with his friends, probably heading to the lake were they would fish for 20 minutes and drink the rest of the day away. He wasn't even legal, the fink.

The triplets hung out at a friend's place, and, seeing severity of the situation, even slept over. The parents would allow of course. In a small town like ours, everybody knew each other and my mother's problem was not an uncommon story. Alana was at the library, drowning herself in a fantasy world where life was just as she wanted. And me, I ran all the way to the mountains, relishing the feeling of the cool ocean scented breeze around me.

It was late when I left, and it was already well past sunset when I arrived. Then, despite my aching legs and broken heart, I followed the unbeaten trail to a flat area of the mountain I had discovered which also led into an empty cave. I was expecting, as always, to have the place all to myself.

What I didn't expect was to see her laying there with head phones on, cigarette in one hand and phone in the other, her eyes closed.

I didn't know how to react to this, to my space {my haven, my safe place, my madness, my sanity} being taken, so I just stood there watching her. She took a drag of her cigarette, and exhaled before opening her eyes. Then she turned and her head and her eyes met mine with only a mild hint of surprise lingering in them. They were red; whether from crying or from the effect of the drugs I couldn't tell.

"I'm sorry. This is your spot right? I'll leave." Her voice was soft and filled with regret. I don't know what possessed me that day, as she removed her headphones and made to sit up, to tell her that it was okay, and that she could stay. She looked at me with doubt in her eyes before laying back down but leaving her headphones around her neck. The volume was loud enough that I could hear a slow reggaeton beat resounding from it. I sat next to her, though not too close so she wouldn't be uncomfortable.

"Want some?" she said after a few beats of silence, holding out her cigarette to me. I gladly accepted it, even though I wasn't really a smoker.

"I didn't mean to intrude. This is your escape right? I didn't know someone had already claimed this spot."

I glanced at her. "Escape?" I questioned, handing the cigarette back to her.

"When you have those days where the world seems too small for you so you run away to a safe place, an escape. Just somewhere you can just breathe. Somewhere you can just not think for once in your life. Not worry about your personal problems or about the people around you." Her voice was heavy and raspy and I could tell she spoke from experience.

"I guess you could call it that." I said casually even though she had hit the nail right on the head. "And you? Why are you up here?"

She finished her cigarette and tossed it on the ground, putting it out with her toe of her sneaker. She sat up then, resting against the entrance of the cave, her arms around her knees.

"When I was younger, I told myself that one day I would climb up a mountain at midnight, stare at the stars, get high and listen to this song on repeat over and over again until all I could do was feel."

"Can I ask which song?"

"Ignorantes by Bad Bunny."

"Oh," was all I could say in response.

"You remind me of him actually."

"Really? How so?"

"I would say your eyes were dark brown like his but over 50% of the world's population have brown eyes so that would be irrelevant. So the hair. He shaved his hair sometimes but sometimes he would grow it back and it would be a curly mess like yours."

I unconsciously ran a hand through my hair. "And you like his music?"

"I guess you could say that."

She didn't bother explaining but dedicating a promise {such delicate things} to someone for so many years indicates more than just liking his music {maybe a deep feeling, unexplainable in mere words}. Instead she lay down again but she unplugged her headphones this time, allowing the music to fill in the silence. It was one of his slower songs and the rhythmic beats were relaxing. The song was on repeat but honestly, I didn't mind. At some point we turned to face each other and we stared into each other's eyes until the first rays of the sun were peeking through the clouds and the song finally lulled us to sleep.

When I woke up, she was gone, the only sign of her being there the blacked part of the ground where she had put out her cigarette.