Prologue
As I sifted through my luggage this morning, I found this journal wrapped in Daria's old blanket. I could hardly believe my eyes when I saw it. This is the first time I've been able to gather enough courage to write in it. I was so scared of marring its pages with my careless words, but I know Mamă would scold me for saying such nonsense. She wanted me to use it for this very purpose. Only now will I be able to reflect on the past five years of my life and how I ended up here. Through this journal, I'll finally be able to discuss things that would seem like fantasy to anyone else. Yes… hopefully with this I'll be able to sleep without being reminded of… the village.
But where to begin? Where does my story even start? Well, I guess it technically starts when I was born, but my life didn't really begin then. It was only twenty years of the same monotonous routine, day after day.
Yes… looking back at the cover, I think I've found the beginning. Before I met the many people who got me here, before I lost the things most dear to me, before I found myself far more attached to things I never spared a thought to… when I was given this journal.