Prodigy. Roxanne Mitchell’s Diary. Anastasiia Deniz Mitchell

      11 June 2012

      …My mother’s name is Armanda. She is a lawyer. She graduated from London University when I was two years old. Yes, things happen. But she was extremely happy I was born.

      My dad is a Greek, although I’ve never seen him. Pity. And my Mum’s an Englishwoman. She says he was a bad guy. They were dating when she found out she was pregnant with me. The man’s name was Alexandros – the man who came to study in London. Mum was a first-year student. After Daddy, I took green-brown eyes and curly brown hair (not as curly as African-Americans have, though). Despite all that, I have got white skin.

      She had to take a gap year then, in order to take care of me. A tough time it was, taking into account that both grandma and grandpa were ill and then died from cancer. So, Mum had to struggle. Struggle for our lives.

      Fortunately, all the hardships were over when Mum got a degree in Law. She opened an office in Central London. As business was looking well, she expanded the office and founded her own company. Mum called it «Queen Elizabeth». I think it’s quite a good name because it expresses all our respects for the monarch and our homeland.

      When I was five, I began studying in a private Christian school – St. Francis’ College – until I was about to turn fourteen. Why fourteen?

      Because I’m said to be a prodigy! Although I myself can’t believe this! (Please, don’t accuse me of immodest boasting. It’s just my story! My diary.).

      When I was one year old, I began to speak. At the age of two, I started to read books in English. When I was three, I went to the language school to study Spanish, Italian, French, German, and Greek. Mum wasn’t against my studying Greek because the country’s rich culture and the fact that my «betrayer» dad is a Greek are separate. I love Greece. I took to Ellada1 when I was a toddler: Mum and me visited it at the time. I wanted to speak Greek most of all. My love for the land is simply unexplainable. As for the other languages, I think it’s a must for any educated person to know these languages, at least one, if not all of them. Mum herself speaks German very well, but she’s also willing to learn a few other languages.

      Thus, I finished school at the age of thirteen. In fact, I adored studying there, finding out plenty of amazing facts about Christianity, Christian culture all over the world and throughout the history. What’s more, we were taught morals and ethics, which is the basis of any Christian school or college. I think it’s great, because one should be well-brought-up. Otherwise, he or she would be an animal, not a human. It’s inhuman for anyone to behave like an animal.

      Our curriculum also included two foreign languages. I chose Spanish and German, so that Mum would be happy with my choice. And she actually was. She loved German. Unfortunately, they didn’t teach Greek there, and I had to continue attending the language school I had been going to since my childhood, to go on learning this magnificent language, along with French and Italian. Giving up learning something meant becoming stupid. While I was combining my studies in both the schools, I did well. (Thank you, Ma.). Mum supported me in all sorts of things. She told me how to do better whatever I asked advice in.

      As for studying music, we had piano, guitar, violin, and flute classes. Saxophone had been a novelty in our school since I entered it. We could choose up to three musical instruments to play. I picked violin, guitar and saxophone. Jazz music had always been an exotic thing for me, so why not learn playing it at school…? Brilliant idea!

      As soon as I graduated, I passed C2-standard exams in all my foreign languages, including Greek. It took quite a long time to prepare for them all, but I did it! Well done! (It’s all because I didn’t have any free time to devote to myself.).

      Although I didn’t have many friends. Only one. Clare. She’d got fair hair and blue eyes. Clare was my best friend, and the only girl I could confide in. We studied together in one class.

      Those were the days. We played, and laughed, and ate, and jumped, and… and many-many things like that. I enjoyed the time I spent with my best friend. The matter was that… I’d never communicated with the boys. Of course – I studied at a girls-only school!

      Therefore, when I graduated (Clare stayed at school for another four years), I was simply stunned by the fact how diverse the world is! There are so many boys, both little and big. And how many men there actually are! More than a billion…!

      I thought I was just unsocialized. I had never talked to a boy or a man! Imagine that! Men are hard to understand. Hard to deal with. At least, I thought so. Imagine one more thing – after I graduated, the only creatures I dealt with were… Mum and men. No female friends in my life anymore! I kept in touch with Clare, but we didn’t meet at all after I finished school.

      Right. I had never seen a boy or a man in person! I saw many men on TV, as well as boys. For instance, Barack Obama was often shown. I also had a look at Her Majesty the Queen more often than at the American President…

      Although I have had a dream since I was