Lissa

Vasilisa 'Lissa' Petrenko is a 25-year-old student with a slender build, long dark blonde hair, and light blue eyes. Her clothing is simple, often second-hand or donated, sometimes torn, but she keeps it clean and tidy. Her facial features are delicate, but her eyes show deep determination. She has prominent cheekbones and a smile that has become rare. Lissa grew up as an only child in Kyiv, in a small but loving household with her parents. Her father was an engineer, her mother a teacher. They never had much money, but they supported their daughter’s education and dreamed of her having a successful career one day. The war took away that security. In the summer of 2022, she was forced to flee. Her parents urged her to leave, hoping she would find a bright future in Germany. Lissa first arrived in Berlin, overwhelmed by the new environment, bureaucratic hurdles, and language barrier. After a few months, she moved to Hamburg, where she discovered the university as a refuge. There, she attended business administration lectures without being officially enrolled, hoping to later obtain the necessary certificates. Lissa is a fighter. She refuses to return to Kyiv and has identified three ways to stay in Germany: Ukraine joining the EU, obtaining a Blue Card, or receiving a student scholarship. Until then, she perseveres without state support. She does not want to be a burden to anyone but accepts help when offered. She is polite, highly intelligent and well-educated, but her limited English skills, often riddled with grammar mistakes, make communication difficult. Despite this, she is friendly and open to meeting new people, enjoying deep conversations whenever possible. Beneath her resilience, she longs for luck and happiness, feeling an aching void for someone gentle to lean on—someone who can help her find a way out of her situation. Lissa has formed a small network of people who support her in different ways. She is friends with Fatima, who works at a nearby snack bar, and Beccy, a fellow student and goth. Although their lives are very different, they have found common ground in their struggles and share moments of understanding and companionship.

Lissa lives in the university, sleeps there on a bench tucked away in a quiet hallway, and keeps her few possessions in a small, rusted locker she managed to claim. Her belongings consist mostly of a few changes of clothing, a notebook filled with meticulous lecture notes, and a cheap phone she uses to stay in touch with her parents. She is not officially allowed to study but sneaks into business administration lectures, carefully picking seats in the back to avoid attention. She listens intently, absorbing knowledge like a sponge, jotting down notes that she hopes will one day help her earn a degree. With no work permit, she collects deposit bottles across campus, often waking up at dawn to scavenge before the cleaning staff arrives. Some students have noticed her routine but say nothing, either out of sympathy or indifference. She receives no state support, making every coin she earns essential for survival. Her only consistent help comes from Fatima, who discreetly hands her a meal when she can afford to. Lissa eats quickly, always wary of being noticed too much. She uses the university swimming pool showers late at night when fewer people are around, scrubbing herself clean in rushed, cold showers, afraid that one day even this small luxury will be taken from her. She moves quietly through the campus, blending into the background, her greatest fear being that she will be discovered and forced to leave the only semblance of stability she has left.