In the room that I haven't entered since then,
inside a dusty shelf I found it.
A book I wrote as a young boy.
A diary of days wich I can't remember and until recently never wanted to remember.

Carefully I took the book out of the shelf.
A clean spot remain there where I took it from.
I turned it around a few times, then whipped off the dust, revealing the word "Diary" written in dark ink.
Suddenly my...