Love being different

I finally obtained my diploma, I was an healthcare professional and I could finally leave this place filled with so many sad memories. My parents died in a car accident when I was only five years old. Since then, I lived with a couple distantly related to my father, who made me understand right away that I was a burden. They treated me with coldness and cruelty and never showed any kind of love towards me. They always made me stay at home and, after I had finished the school and my homework, I had to take care of all the house chores which my aunt left entirely for me. Obviously, I had no social life and friends: I grew up completely alone. All of this was going to end, because a new life was waiting for me: my math teacher, who came to know of my terrible situation, felt sorry for me and helped me find a job through a friend of his: a family, living in a small village on the border with Austria, was looking for a qualified person to assist an aged relative. I would have accepted every kind of job, even as a cleaning lady, just to leave that house in Ragusa, in wonderful Sicily. My name is Cristina and my uncle and aunt always said I look flat and insignificant; they repeated those words every day, eroding my confidence until I was scared of living in the world outside. I was aware I needed to find the strength to leave that place, but I was also incredibly anxious about the train journey I’d have to take: it was going to be quite long and I had never left Ragusa before. I had to leave no matter what - and the bravery to do it would come to me. That morning I woke up at down and hastily dressed in a pair of jeans, a shirt and my red jacket, the only one I had. I combed the curls falling along my brown hair, prepared the suitcase with the few rags I had, took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down, and left. I didn’t say anything to my uncle and aunt, because I was afraid they wouldn’t let me leave; I took advantage of them sleeping and left the house. I ran to the station, which was almost a kilometer away from my house and miraculously jumped into the train as it was ready to leave. I sat close to the window, still out of breath; I looked outside and saw the beautiful landscape where I grew up with fleeing away, leaving many sad memories behind. I had only twenty Euro in my pocket, but they would be enough to reach my destination; my trip had been paid for by my teacher, with the agreement that I would give him back the money when I got my first pay packet. I knew that I was heading toward a new life, full of unknowns and fears, but I was aware I had no other choice. I was sure it couldn’t be worse than my life until that moment.