Let me introduce myself. My name is Siofra. I'm the firstborn and the only girl among three siblings.
This story begins when I was twelve, still in my early teens. At that age, the events of my childhood led me to choose to continue my education at a boarding school.
While kids my age simply went along with their friends' choices so they could stay together, or were forced by both their parents, I made the fully conscious decision to ask to be sent to boarding school, regardless of whether it was near or far. To me, being away from my parents wasn't sad.
"Your dad wants you to go to public school. Why are you so insistent on going to boarding school?" Mom asked.
"...There isn't any particular reason."
Liar. That answer was full of lies. I chose that option because I couldn't stand being at home. Weird, right? A twelve-year-old wanting to go to boarding school simply because she was unhappy at home. Even so, I was still determined to earn a top-five ranking for my own satisfaction.
At the time, I didn't think there was anything strange about what was happening to me. But once I grew up, it felt extremely abnormal, and I realized it far too late.
In the end, my father agreed to my request. We started looking for schools in various regions to apply to. I tried applying and taking the entrance test for a middle school located in the same area as my former elementary school. Unfortunately, I didn't pass. For two straight weeks before the test, my asthma had been holding me back, so I could only memorize a small portion of the material required to get into that school.
"You didn't pass, huh? Even though you're smart," said my friend, who had passed the selection process.
"What else could I do? I've been sick a lot lately."
"So where are you going to continue school? The public school your dad mentioned?"
"No, I'm planning to go to school in City C, my parents' hometown. Though it's pretty far from Grandma's house to the school."
"City C? That's really far. You don't mind going to school so far from home?"
"I'm the one who asked for it, and I don't mind. I'll only come home twice a year, during semester break and summer break."
"Do any of our friends go to school there too?"
"Not a single one."
My friend fell silent for a moment. "I hope we can meet again. I'm sad that we won't be able to play and study together anymore."
I only smiled.
I prepared the things I would take to the dorm by following the school's packing list.
"Don't forget to bring your asthma medication," Mom reminded me.
"Okay, Mom."
The medicine I took came in tablet form. I didn't use an inhaler. Mom forbade me from using one because she was worried I would become dependent on it. Like the innocent child I was, I simply did as she said.
"Is everything ready? Check it all again."
Once everything was ready, we loaded our belongings into the car. It wasn't our personal car—it was the company car Dad used to commute to work every day.
That year, the trip from City P to City C took around twelve hours.
I think almost every child develops this habit. I liked counting certain cars by their make and trying to guess which ones were Ava*zas and which were X*nias. But honestly, I still couldn't tell the difference between them.
Deep down, I felt relieved that I would be away from home for a while. Still, I was a little worried. Would I be able to adapt and make friends at my new school?
To be continued...