BORN UNDER THE COMMUNISM, I didn’t know my country had a king exiled somewhere in the world. As a little child, I heard only one of my uncles in the village saying something about Michael I the King of Romania.
As a young student in the elementary school, I started to pay more attention to the secret conversations my family members would whisper between them while on vacation in the village.
I will remember those evenings under the grape vines in the courtyard when my parents and my uncle and aunt would sip from their cups with fresh mineral water and talk in a low voice. I was fascinated about their stories with our king.
When I was 16 years old I started to write a novel about a teen girl who had questions about the real history of her nation. Our History textbooks were incomplete and full of intentional errors. The communists didn’t want us to know the truth.
With no internet or other sources, the fruit of my research I did about the monarchy was little and incomplete.
One day when I went to my writing club and read a passage about King Michael and his father King Ferdinand, my mentor – an elderly poet – was startled. He kindly asked me to stay away from that subject and redo my work, in order to be safe from the communist secret police “Securitate.”
The book’s title was, “Where are you coming from Adina Coman?”
I didn’t stop writing it, and my closest friends in high school became my audience. I wrote on it every day. My colleagues would come earlier to school only to know what happened next in my story.
Unfortunately, I lost the manuscript somehow. It vanished.