Everyone was surprised and devastated. Carolina was a normal kid, with loving intelligent parents. Apparently, she had fought with them earlier that day becase they would not let her go to a party.
My mother knew her mother at the time of the jump. They lived two buildings east from my mothers' appartment. As far as I could tell her mother was a bogotanian professional, liberal, intellectual.
Given my mothers' closeness to the incident I got to hear part of what happened. At first no one could understand the incident. Nobody could have thrown her out of the window and there was clearly not enough reason for her to suicide. Nothing extrange had happened in the days prior to the incident except for this minor fight with her parents. Things became clarer when her girlfriend finally talked.
They had a plan. Her parents didn't let her go to the party but Carolina was going to scape in the middle of the night. She had made a rope out of sheets and scarfs that she had tied to one of the legs of her bed and to her ancle. The idea was to jump out tied to her bed so as to swing into her girlfriend's window two floors below. Her friend had opened the window and was waiting for her. They were gona get a ride with her girlfriend's parents.
There are so many things with this tragic story, the absurdity, the loss... But there is one thing that strikes me the most. Carolina was captive of her fantasy. She wanted to scape out of the window with a makeshift rope. Jump out and swing gracefully into her friend's bedroom two floors below. The plan was lied down. Did she think of herself as a princess? a prisioner? the heroine of an anime adventure?
Whetever it was, she did not understand some of the most basic things about the world in which she lived. Knowing where they lived and who her mother was, I imagine her the owner of a hundred coloring books, avid reader of children's poetry, familiar to theater and dance. Quick with words, smart. She probably had an aunt who visited her and thaught her many crafts as they gosiped and giggled. She was thaught to appreciate art and life and the nature arround her. She was independent, and so she scaped.
And yet, so much was amiss. That is what strikes me the most.
