Sierra's POV
Everything is overwhelming.
Sitting in my room, I examine every little detail: a desk with a spinning chair, a big bed that's way too big for just one person, and a big bathroom with a big bath that would swallow me.
I sit on the floor because I don't want to get the nice new chair filthy with whatever is on my clothes and body and I look at what's in front of me.
Paper. Pen. Thoughts.
Dear diary.
Do I even call it a diary or is it dear paper? Either way, it doesn't matter.
It's a lot this is you know. I don't know how some people cope with the transitions of moving from one pack to another. I mean, people think I'm stupid because I was pulled out of school. They didn't know that when I managed to get there I would go to the pack library and study, I'm good with things
