I was fourteen or fifteen. I'm not quite sure but it was a very difficult time for me as a teenager. My thoughts were quite ahead of my age, not because I wanted it, but because life wanted it. I was away from home, from my country which was in war, and away from my father. But I hoped and prayed that one day I would return home together with my mum, my older sister and my younger brother. And I hoped I would see my father again.
My mind was full of different things. Everything was mixed like in a blender- growing up, teenage stuff, difficult situation my family and I were in, no home, no father, and I was too old for my age, way too old. And I hoped, I wished, and I prayed. I didn't have time for teenage fooling around. Instead of that, I had many worries and things to deal with, like the news that came like a storm, like a thunder on a sunny day without a single cloud. My father found another woman and started living with her in our house, surrounded by our memories, our hopes and wishes of coming back as soon as the war ends, that we sent every day from far away. My feelings were taking turns confusingly, from sadness to anger and vice versa. There was such a commotion in my head and my heart, there were so many questions without answers, so many doubts. But I still hoped.
For months, I was dealing with my feelings that were messed up, but one thing was never messed up. Hope. So strong, so profound it lay quietly deep inside me until one day.
It was one of those days when I needed solitude, to be alone with my thoughts. I went to the playground. It was a part of the refugee campus we lived in, in a 3 x 4 m room, the four of us, in a barrack along with about seventy other people, young, old, from here and there. It was the only place where I could feel as a kid, when we played games and relaxed, not looking at the barracks, which were anything but home. It was dusk, the sun was still in the sky, but evening was getting closer, and the playground was empty. A perfect place to be alone. My thoughts raced through my head, feelings taking turns as usual, but the main thought that kept showing up was the news. Actually it was not the news anymore, though I perceived it that way for a long time. That day the news became the fact and my mind started dealing with this new sensation, new perception. And it happened. I started breathing evenly, so calmly that it felt like falling asleep. Then I felt like sinking down and down and the thing deep inside me, that lay in my soul for so long, just detached. It was like some invisible hand took it away from me. The hope was gone. Suddenly, it felt like I woke up from a long dream. It was really gone. A part of my soul disappeared. It was such a unique feeling, nothing I had ever experienced before. I stood up, took a deep breath and went. The barrack finally became home and that became the fact, too. There were no misconceptions, just the fact that stood there in front of me like a solid rock.
I would never forget the unique feeling, the feeling of losing hope, losing childhood and becoming a fully grown up person. Yes, that was the day I grew up.
By Danijela Babic
