He had never been the religious type. As a child he had visited the church more often, but since joining the army, he completely forgot about the masses. He had been through too much in his life. There was only pain, in all his memories. And the priest who gave the masses had always promised him that God would help the neediest.

Why did God allow wars? Did God allow parents to mistreat their children? With his work as a soldier he understood that in war everything is worth, and that while some cling to the faith, others wield weapons without being attached to anything. And Ghost was clear that he would do the same: look death in the face, without expecting a reward in heaven.

Maybe that’s why now I didn’t understand what I was doing in that place. It was the chapel closest to the military base, not many people went. A little church that was practically abandoned. Ghost wasn’t looking for the word of God, he was going for another reason.

He fell to his knees in front of the statue of that virgin. La Dolorosa, he had heard her called. Or so Colonel Vargas told him. Virgin of those who suffer losses and seek comfort. In the last mission that Ghost had led had had thirteen casualties. Thirteen fallen men who would no longer see their families.

"Why do you abandon me?" He asked you with a pain and bitterness in his voice, whose origin was pure suffering. He felt guilt. He felt responsible. "I come to you looking for strength, and you always abandon me. You and God. Why?"

He had returned to that chapel even though he had promised himself not to return. And there he was, at your feet, crying without a mask to hide his pain from the outside world. He punched the ground when he got no answer. The old slab broke, weak over the years.

"Answer me." He sobbed. "Why are you doing this to me?"

The tears of the statue of the virgin seemed so real. Simon wanted to think that you were listening, that he wasn’t crazy to seek comfort in your arms.

"Why do you appear in my dreams if you don’t answer my prayers?"