Loose End

Loose End
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I thought that writing all my story in a book was the best tool to make Eva Mikula known even to those who believe they already know everything about me. I felt the need to appease my indignation and my anger for a truth never fully revealed by the Italian institutions and for having suffered yet another unjustified attack by those who still, despite my sentences of acquittal, from their privileged seat and after 26 years after the capture of a gang of criminal police, still claims to label me as responsible for all those mourning, uttering only phrases of hatred and contempt towards me, regardless of the effects that they continue to cause on my life. I have been fighting injustice since I was a child, I have to do it even as an adult, mine is a cruel destiny but I have no choice but to face life and my fears.

It was 1991, a girl lost in the woods of life abandons her family. She seeks her way. She still does not know that a year later, it would take her to Italy where she will meet her big bad wolf. Alone, frightened and above all subjugated, she asks for help from a distant friend: “Help me!! There are captive girls, missing girls and cops involved!” Thus it was that the Italian police began to investigate the bad wolves, following the red herring on an alleged human trafficking. Thus begins the story of the true story of the capture of criminals known as ”the gang of the white one” who from 1987 to 1994 bloodied the streets of Emilia Romagna and Marche, killing 24 people, injuring 103. It seems incredible that for seven long years the hunters could not find the bad wolves. It took Little Red Riding Hood, the girl from the fairy tale of Charles Perrault and the Brothers Grimm, to show the right way in the dark undergrowth of justice. In fact, the end of the band bears the indelible signature of Eva Mikula, a nineteen year old Hungarian-Romanian girl who for all was the woman of the boss. She challenged dangerous men, unscrupulous killers. She also challenged the power nestled in the buildings which wanted and still wants to teach the truth. Yet it was thanks to her meticulous testimony, rendered thanks to an unshakable memory, that all members of the gang were arrested, putting an end to their criminal enterprises, thus saving other innocent lives. Could it have been her deep knowledge of the truth that actually made her an expendable pawn from that system that first used her and then, in fact, abandoned her? So far, the story of a fact read in the newspapers and heard on TV. But who is Eva Mikula really? What was her life like before the encounter with the ferocious wolf? How did the community reciprocate her gesture that exposed her to grave risk and danger, now more timely than ever awaiting the next end of sentence? In short, has Eva finally come out of the woods? Who knows… maybe by writing this book she will finally free herrself from the stinging brambles and wild beasts that populate the forest.

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Poems have wolves inside...

except one: the most wonderful of all...

she dances in a circle of fire

and she gets rid of the challenge with a shrug.

Jim Morrison

Author: Eva Mikula

https://www.facebook.com/eva.mikula.75

[email protected]

Editor: Marco Gregoretti

[email protected]

Editing: 8 Media srl

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Cover graphics: Augusto ‘‘Ace’’ Silva

[email protected]

Publication: 2021 Italy

Copyright: © 2020 Eva Mikula

DRS filed on 22-01-2021

© Edition Il Ciuffo

Translated by Nevia Ferrara

Published by Tektime

Eva Mikula

LOOSE END

Hidden truths about the White One Gang

by Marco Gregoretti

INTRODUCTION

The life of each is the sum of what each of us is into the depth of one's heart and not of what others think of us. It is the essence of one's self that intersects with those close to us and with those who cross our lives.

I don't believe in destiny. Destiny is a convention, a construction for those who use to feel sorry for themselves. However, everyone is the arbiter, aware or not, of their own life, always and regardless of whether or not they are inclined to spend a senseless and flattened existence on the interests of others.

This is Eva Mikula's story, a young girl who was wrong of growing up very quickly, perhaps too quickly, in a difficult if not impossible context, and of trying to change her existence for the better, and this did not can be considered a fault.

She did so with the very few tools she had at her disposal given her age, looking for shelter, stability and new affections in a world alien to her that soon became hostile, finding herself alone among the wolves.

What she thought to be the golden world of a beautiful fairy tale soon turned into a nightmare from which it seemed impossible to wake up. It might seem like a story similar to many girls like her, but this is a different story, very particular.

Eva will become, in spite of her, the protagonist of the recent history of the Italian Republic, the story of the criminal gang of the White One that will indelibly mark her existence from a very young age. Six criminals, including five policemen on duty in different locations in Emilia Romagna, will cross their lives with Eva's. Criminals who with their actions will produce a long trail of blood, robberies and mourning from 1987 to the end of 1994.

Despite her being dragged into black news stories and international judicial intricacies that have sunk her even more and exposed her to public mockery, she never gave up, never stopped to feel sorry for herself.

Eva struggled to survive, not to be killed by criminals first and distorted justice later. She fought against everyone, even against those who would have had the task and the legal duty to protect her. She did it for her sense of justice, for her future, for a life under the banner of normality. She fought and won the first half of her most important game, a game that is still open, and she must continue to do so in order not to be once again banned by society, by those who have divergent interests regarding the truth.

Eva got back in the game and decided to do it for her children, so that they never have to suffer abuse or be ashamed of anything in comparison with others, just like their mother did many years ago.

Enjoy the reading.

Làszlò Posztobànyi

Poet, composer, journalist.

1. THIS IS MY STORY

This story, my story, begins on August 18, 1975 under the sign of Leo and ends on July 28, 2020, the day of the turning point in the year of catharsis.

That day, between random web searches and what I read about my past, something clicked in me. As if a crazed embolus had circulated in search of all those emotions that each of us holds and keeps inside the soul.

I was surprised to see that my feelings: sadness, disgust, anger, joy and fear were all in total conflict with each other. Along its path, the embolus also encountered awareness, which in turn led to the search for consciousness. In this great confusion shrouded in the darkness of memories, my ego exclaimed: "Who are you? Who is Eva?". After a moment of silence and hesitation, the conscience spoke: "We must mend the threads between us, with all our feelings to find peace. To do this we have to take a trip back in Eva's life, do a bit of order without neglecting anything".

The embolus dissolved, vanished, Eva looked in the mirror, spoke again and decided: the truth will be our guide, as always.

The truth is not what you find on the web, written in the newspapers, said on TV or manipulated in certain courtrooms.

So, on August 4, 2020, after thinking about it for a long time and after reorganizing the first documents, I wrote to Marco Gregoretti, a journalist.

A dry and decisive email with which I asked him to get in touch with me.

Why him? I don't know, I felt I could trust. I managed to get his phone number too. I called him, I wrote him long messages that touched my memories, since I was a child. I have sent him complicated e-mails relating to some of my letters and others, which related facts that you will find in this book. I asked him to help me put them in good shape, in a more correct Italian than mine. In short, I tested him. I wanted to understand if my instincts were still alive in me; I needed confirmation and to know that I could truly trust him.



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