My first times

Welcome to my diary

   In case something happens with this diary, I better introduce myself and tell you whoever may read this, what's the fuss all about.
   I am Hanna Pinegrove. Maybe my name is a bit weird, but I chose it for myself. Priest Joseph suggested to change it as well as writing the diary. He beleives that it will be therapeutical and it'll make it easier to start over. I can't really think about starting over though, because I lost...I lost literally everything, and I just can't handle the situation.
   Anyway. My name. Yeah, I chose this on purpose. For my first name I simply got to like how Hannah sounds but my last name means the several pinetrees behind the church.
I love to go outside and take a walk when no one is around. I became the ghost of this place. Neither dead nor alive, rather somewhere between. However the nature doesn't see the difference, might resonate with my new form of living but when I'm in the shelter of the pine trees I can feel my old self.
   As a child I had been always fond of temples, they looked enormous and calmed me down in a way nothing else could. I almost felt that I was safe, that I am protected by believing in my protector. No longer.
   What happened to me, mixed everything up regarding my love to my religion. Priest Joseph said he wanted to speak about it with me but we both agreed on that it's not quite the time yet.
   Some would consider this a miracle. In a form which makes me vulnerable, frightend of myself and above all danger to citizens, I'm in good hands. In God's hands, some would say.
   I say, I don't deserve to be taken care of by a truly good-hearted man but I'm really greatful for it. Even though I only met him a week ago, and we seem to get on well with each other, I didn't either earn his trust or his love. Despite my condition he says whatever God sends to him he has to deal with it, no matter if it's a ghost or something else.
   So to sum up, in this diary I'm going to write about my first times. I already mentioned a few. It's my first time living with a priest, my first time to change my name, first time questioning my believes. First time being orphan, first time to be homeless. And this is my first time writing a diary after I died.