I never thought a notebook would become the most important thing in my life.
Back in 2019, it was just an ordinary year. I was just an ordinary student with ordinary worries—homework, exams, and trying not to fall asleep during long classes. Life felt simple then. Every morning I woke up to the same sounds: the barking of dogs in the distance, motorbikes starting up on the street, and my mother calling me to hurry before I was late for school.
At that time, the future felt clear. I thought life would follow a simple path: study hard, pass exams, and maybe go to university someday. Everyone around me seemed to believe the same thing. Teachers talked about our futures. Parents talked about opportunities. My friends and I joked about school and complained about homework, never thinking that the world around us could suddenly change.
That was the year I started writing.
The notebook wasn't special. It had a plain cover and slightly bent corners. The pages were still stiff and smelled faintly like fresh paper. I bought it from a small shop near my school without thinking much about it. At first, I only used it to write random thoughts—things that happened during the day, small conversations with friends, and moments I didn't want to forget.
My name is Roi, and this notebook is where my story begins.
At first, I didn't think I was writing anything important. I was just writing about life as it was—normal days, normal worries, and normal dreams.
But looking back now, I realize something strange.
Those first pages were written during the last days when everything still felt normal.
None of us knew that things were about to change.
Not slowly.
But all at once.
And when they did, this small notebook became the only place where I could record the truth—what I saw, what I felt, and what it was like to grow up during years that no one could have predicted.