He woke up early in the morning to the noise coming from downstairs. His mother was already in the kitchen, preparing everything for his trip to camp.
It seemed like an ordinary day — June 21, 2001. But it wasn't. This camp was far from ordinary. The children who went there rarely wanted to leave. They said they liked it there… too much.
The camp was called, in a childish and almost innocent way, "Awakening Tulips." For Vlad, the name sounded ridiculous — like something made for six-year-olds. And yet he was already fourteen.
He was the only son of wealthy and influential parents. He was used to luxury, used to obedience, used to the belief that the world revolved around him.
So when he heard about a re-education camp, he exploded.
— "I'm not going there!" Vlad shouted, his voice echoing through the house. "Do you even hear yourselves? A camp? For me?"
His mother tried to calm him down.
— "Vlad, it's just for a short time. It will do you good…"
— "Do me good?" he cut her off sharply. "I already have friends! I don't need strangers who are beneath me!"
His father stood silently for a moment. A strict man, shaped by poverty and struggle, he had spent his life building everything so his son would never suffer the way he did. But he never expected this level of arrogance.
Finally, his father spoke, cold and firm:
— "You will go. And you will go with your friends. Is that what you want?"
Vlad paused. The anger in his eyes flickered.
Then, more quietly:
— "…My friends?"
His father nodded.
— "Yes. Those you haven't seen in a long time."
A short silence followed.
Vlad slowly exhaled. If his friends were going, then it wasn't completely unacceptable. After all, they were like him — the same spoiled children, raised in comfort and excess.
He finally gave a reluctant nod.
— "Fine… I'll go."