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SAVING MY ASSASSIN<br />
a cup <strong>of</strong> sugar, Elena! Why do you keep this door closed?<br />
Open the door!”<br />
Terrified, I dropped the dish I was holding, ran to the<br />
opposite side <strong>of</strong> the house, jumped in my bed, and hid myself<br />
underneath the blanket.<br />
<strong>The</strong> voice on the other side <strong>of</strong> the door grew louder, as<br />
did the hammering. “I need some sugar. I don’t want to walk<br />
to the store. Elena, open the door!”<br />
I thought the door would come down. I didn’t move<br />
underneath my blanket.<br />
Finally the house became quiet again. I pulled the blanket<br />
<strong>of</strong>f my face and looked out the window facing me. All<br />
I could see were the branches <strong>of</strong> the tree out back swaying<br />
gently in the breeze. I started to imagine friendly faces in the<br />
branches—almost as though someone were watching over<br />
me. Strangely, I felt protected. From that day forward, imagining<br />
friendly faces in the branches became a game to help<br />
combat my fear and loneliness.<br />
I also discovered another way to escape and make<br />
friends—through books.<br />
One afternoon while the family was in Bucharest visiting<br />
Aunt Cassandra, I grabbed a book and stepped outside.<br />
Setting Brontë’s Jane Eyre down on the ground, I climbed<br />
onto a tree swing, pushed <strong>of</strong>f, pumped hard, then tucked<br />
my legs underneath me. I leaned back and followed the<br />
path <strong>of</strong> an airplane cutting a line through the sky. Someday,<br />
I thought, I’ll fly away from here and travel the world. I closed<br />
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