It was with some conviction that I entered the bathroom looking for a vacant cubical, the orange juice after my lunch seemed like a good idea at the time.

It wasn't until I was washing my hands that I noticed her sitting there. She was on the floor her back against the wall with her slender arms embracing her shapely legs, which were squeezed against her chest. She was looking up towards me; her knee carried the red mark where her chin had been resting. Her eyes were dry, although the red rings around them gave their recent history away.

I asked her if she was all right and while I didn't hear a sound in reply, her face lit up spelling comfort with her lips motioning a message leaving me with no reason to worry for her.

I returned her smile and quickly hurried for class as it was English, and 'Baroness Black Skirt' already had me on report for being late this week. The last ten minutes of her ranting seemed like an hour thirty. Sitting cross-legged with a rather urgent desire to retrace my steps to the bathroom again seemed to make the clocks travel painfully slow.

Finally free, I rushed back to the bathroom; she was still there. I'm not sure why, but I sat beside her and without saying a word took her soft, warm hand in mine. We exchanged names as I asked her what was the matter.

She told me today was to be her last day at school; tomorrow she was being taken back to Iran where it had been arranged for her to marry a cousin. All her western talk of a University education, refusing to wear traditional headdress and speaking out of place, had pushed her family too far.

Eventually I excused myself to use the bathroom, but when I returned she was no longer there. I ran outside and looked everywhere for her; she was gone.

Everywhere I go now, I look for SoulmAz. All my success, achievements and liberties, I wish we could share.