Free Mesmerized: Spellbound (Book One) by Trinity Night

Chapter One
    Everyone told me not to backpack through Eastern Europe. Maybe they were right. Maybe I shouldn't have gone. But maybe, it was the best thing that ever happened to me.
    It was my first summer out of college, and I had limited funds for the great expedition — the European vacation that was supposed to teach me all about life. I would have traveled through Paris, London, and Athens, but my daily budget was a meager $35. I had to make it last.
    My first splurge was three days in Venice. I landed early in the morning on the fifteenth of June, totally jet lagged and exhausted from a 20 hour flight from Seattle. I staggered out of the plane, blurry-eyed and bedraggled, and glad that I was so tired I didn’t care how I looked. I wore the same gray sweat suit the entire journey and my body was so stiff and stinky that all I wanted was a long soak in a warm tub. Of course, if I were staying in an actual hotel, a bath would have been a no-brainer, but I could only budget for youth hostels, the entire way.
    I ’d saved for this trip for months, begged, borrowed, and stole to get the ticket and the spending money to travel all summer. My parents, who are not poor by any stretch of the imagination, didn’t want me to stay all summer. They wanted me home for their big 4th of July blow-out on Mercer Island.
    I needed enough time to really learn about Europe and about myself. I wanted to know who Julia Donovan really was and what I was made of. They didn’t get it. I needed to see things; I needed to have experiences, feel the wind in my hair, the salt on my lips, feel exhilaration in my heart. If I went home for the 4th, I would only get two weeks of adventure— that wasn’t nearly enough.
    Of course, if I only spent two weeks, my daily budget would have been much higher, and I would have stayed in relative luxury anywhere I wanted. But luxury wasn ’t the point, not the point at all. I had been completely sheltered my whole life. I even went to the University of Washington and lived with my parents until senior year. And I studied business, just like they wanted.
    In my heart, I wanted to be an artist. My room was plastere d with tens and hundreds of drawings and paintings. I’d even won a few small awards for my work. But, who can make a living as an artist, right? So I studied business, and they paid all my bills; I didn’t even have to work. It wasn’t until I finally insisted on getting a job, and moving in with some house-mates, that I finally left the nest.
    They had plenty of ways of tightening the reins when they acted like they were being supportive. This trip, for example: they loaned me just enough money to make it through until the 4th. I had an open-ended return ticket out of Venice and a tight-ass budget. I suppose they expected me to chicken out and get back on the plane when I ran out of money. But I wasn’t going to let that happen.
    I bud geted every second of my trip and found out exactly where I needed to travel to make it work until September. When I explained my plans, they just about went ape shit. They told me I was going to get kidnapped or raped or something equally heinous. I didn’t listen. It was time for this sheltered little bird to fly. If you never take a chance to live, what is the point in living? 
    I trudged down the concourse, looking for Starbucks, not caring that I was in Italy and should try to find something authentic. Starbucks shone like a beacon of hope for lost travelers. I got a triple mocha latte with whipped creamy goodness. It was heaven in my mouth. That was another five bucks gone. Dang.
    I went the luggage carousel and waited for m overstuffed backpa ck to tumble down the chute. I’d tried to pack lightly: clothes, toiletries, various electronics, shoes. When I'd stuffed it as full as possible, my bed was still covered in half a dozen things I wanted to take with me. I had to make some sacrifices. I ended up with just the essentials, and as my bag circled