Sometimes I feel like I don't know myself and yet I do. I know part of who I am, the part that expresses itself through feelings and emotions but through words. Someday I hope to become a poet but for now I am a typical thirteen-year-old girl. I guess you should know who I am. My name is Cara Jane Hills. I live in London with my parents who lately won't stop brawling at each other. I am afraid that they will get a divorce. We live in a big house with an amazing chef, incredibly kind waiters and spectacular severs. I just finished elementary school and I am off to high school. My mother states that I am a little bird who is ready to leave the nest. My father thinks it sounds ridiculous. I think it sounds rather lovely.

      Just how I figured, my parents got a divorce. Now, I am packing up. My father proclaimed that he never wants to see our faces again so we are moving to Victoria. That is in Canada! I've never been to Canada before. I still really love my father and I am really sorrowful to be leaving him. Tears came running down my face as we said goodbye and hopped into the taxi that takes us to the airport.

     This is my first time going onto an airplane and I can hardly wait. When we first arrived at the airport they scrutinized our bags and we got to walk through a metal detector. Is that not what you use to find treasure? Anyways, we got onto the plane late at night but I simply could not fall asleep. I could feel that my mother was stressed out. She has been this way since we left our home. I wonder how their conflict even started. Maybe deep down they still care for each other. Those thoughts swirled in my head as I fell asleep.

     The next morning I woke up in a big rush. As we were getting off the plane I remembered how each morning my father came to my bedroom, gave me a good-morning kiss and whispered in my ear that it was time to get up. Next, he would open the curtains and let the sun shine on my face. Oh how I loved the morning sun. Now there will be no more gentle wake-ups.

    We got off the plane and into a bus that takes us to Tsawwassen. That is where we will grab a ferry that takes us to Victoria. As we settled into our seats my mother told me that today would be a big day. She started talking to me about how I will be going to a new school with people I do not know. Then I noticed that the bus was not moving. The driver told us that we were stuck in a car accident and that we would be trapped here for about two hours.

      Because my mother was stressed out, she had not slept the entire night. She mumbled to me saying that she was going to get some shut-eye. Once she closed her eyes she fell into a deep sleep. Then I pulled out my notebook. My great-grandmother gave it to me when I was very little. It sort of looked like an old book you'd find in a really old and ancient house.She told me that someday that notebook will be filled with stories. Those were her last words before she closed her eyes forever. 

      Now that I am grown up I will fill it with stories, poetic stories. Then I will give the notebook to my children. As memories.

     We arrived in Tsawwassen at noon then we got our tickets for the ferry. On the ferry we had a delicious meal. Although, it's not like the food we ate back in London. I guess I just need to adapt to what is here. My mother didn't really enjoy the meal. I guess she missed the food that was back in London.

      I almost forgot to tell you! On the ferry, I spotted a whale out in the water!  It jumped high in the air and did a back flip as it landed in the water. If this were a gymnastics competition and if I were a judge I would give it a 10 out of 10.

     We arrived in Victoria at around 4 o'clock in the afternoon and we got to aunt Amanda's house a little after 5 o'clock.  Aunt Amanda is a tall skinny beautiful woman with black hair and she adulates poems, just like me. I think she used to be a model or something like that. She provided us with tea and crumpets. I settled into my new room and I noticed something under my bed. I looked closely at it and I realized that is was a scrapbook from my mother's childhood. Now that I think about it ,my mother never really spoke about her experience being a child. I find that rather sad. Just then my mother walked in. She startled me a little; I quickly put the scrapbook under the bed again.

     My mother came to check on me and to see how I was doing I was doing fine. Then she slowly walked into my room and over to the big brown wooden desk that sat in the corner of the room. It was like all her memories came back to her just by looking at her desk. Then she told me that when there was drama at school and problems going on she would put her head on her desk and think. It might of have taken her days but whenever she thought deeply about something she would come with a great solution for the problem. That is what I admire about my mother.

     We started to tell each other about what we hold very dear to our hearts. Time flew by fast. And before we knew it we went out for dinner. We went to a restaurant just a few minutes away from where my new home is. There, I met the guy of my dreams. He was tall, blonde with brown eyes. He had a few freckles and the perfect face shape. He was about my age but the best part of all was that he had glasses! I love glasses, especially his. When we left the restaurant I bumped into him. He immediately apologized as I demolished to the ground. I would have apologized, if I could speak. I froze when I looked into his eyes, when I tried to say something the words didn't come out right because my tongue was tied. He helped me up and he put his arms around me. I felt like I was going to melt. We cooed goodnight to each other and I left. On the way home, he was the only thing I could think about.

      I went to bed but I simply couldn't fall asleep. I couldn't stop thinking about him; my only wish was that he would go to the same high school as I did. Speaking of which, my first day at Rose Dale High was tomorrow. I can hardly wait. Then, I noticed laughing coming from the street. After a few seconds of looking around I spotted him, the guy form the restaurant. I wonder what his name is?

      But he wasn't alone. He was with another girl. I truly hope she won't go to the same high school as I do. But, I have a tactile sense that she will. From the window it seemed that she gave him a little peck on the cheek and left. He entered the house that was right next door to us. Oh my goodness, He lives next door. But the only problem is the other girl. I've got to loose her.

     Back in London my father always used to tell me stories about his childhood before I fell asleep. I know that might sound childish but I really enjoy stories and I bet you do too. I called my mother in to tell me a story. She told me that when she was my age there was a boy she liked. Except the only problem was that he liked somebody else. It took her days even months to figure out what to do and she always used her desk. I really like that desk now. Maybe someday I will use it. On the contrary, hopefully not because it sounds like a lot of stress. Anyways, back to her story, instead she looked for other guys and she bumped into my dad. They have known each other since that were around thirteen years old.

     I asked my mother weather she still like my father. She said that she still loves him dearly it's just that he seems to have moved on in his life without her. I was shocked when I heard that. Maybe somehow I can bring them back together. But the way I know it is that my father really loves my mother. If they both really love each other why did they split up? My mother said that they have been together for too long and sooner or later they would of have split up anyways.

      I still feel a spark in between my mother and my father but now they split up and when that happens we know that there is no getting back together. I feel bad for them. But then again they have done a lot of fighting so they sort of had it coming.

I    f I had to sum up my experience so far in Victoria it would be: I'm happy, sad, confused and I'm in love with the boy net door.

Late at night I finally fell asleep. I dreamt about...

It's a secret, I can't tell you.

*Author's note*

In this chapter nobody is talking but I can assure you that later on I will start doing parts where people talk. The reason why I didn't do it in the first chapter was because all of this was in her mind, it was all a story that she telling you.

This book is written to my Best friend in the world who has been my friend for 8 years, Jennifer, I love her dearly and she loves me back. We will always be BFF's till the end of time.

I dedicate this book to her. <3