My name is Ivy Ravenstorm, and this is my journal. Not a diary. Diaries are so... Pre-adolescent. I like to think up stories. I used to think of bedtime stories for my little sister when we were younger, and a whole other kind of story to tell my older sister, when she caught me coming into the house, late at night, after sneaking out to ride my horse. This particular story, however, is true, and begins with the words ''England?! We're being sent to England?!''
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