Trouble

1.

To say I was freaking out was an understatement.

The amount of stress I was facing, the thought of failing everyone, the fact I had to pay thousands of dollars for classes so I can get a degree and live a good chunk of my life in debt whilst working a job I'm hoping to get after earning my degree from four extra tedious years of education.

It all made me want to shit my pants.

"Ebony honey are you excited?" My mother asked from the passenger's seat.

"No. Absolutely not." Sighing, I reached for my mom's hand and gave it a dramatic squeeze. "Ma, I'm scared. Petrified. Horrendously horrified. I don't know if I can go on."

My parents both give small laughs as my mom pushes my hand out of hers and face the front window again.

"You'll be fine baby, everything is going to work out. When we get there you'll have a nice roommate, see how kind and wonderful they are and how great sharing a room with them is going to be and then you can get nice and comfortable spending the next 5 hours luggin' all this shit from the car to your room and set all this crap up that you brought," My mom states as she turns around to grab a random bag I brought, opening it to look at what lied beneath the plastic. "Like this- what is this?" She holds up my rolling paper.

"Unless you're suddenly into smoking I suggest you put that back in her bag baby." My dad says laughing as he glances over to my mom for a second.

"You plan on going into the term high or something?" He says as my mom proceeds to put my things back and throw them in the back seat with me.

"Yea. If I gotta suffer I might as well be driftin' off on cloud 9."

"Least you aren't drinkin'." My mom says as she laughs, probably remembering her early college days.

She told me the first three months had nothing but partying on her schedule, and it got so bad she had to stop drinkin' cause she could never make sense of what happened the night before.

My dad had the same issue when he first got to university, but it was with acid. That man was always on some acid trip when someone bumped into him. I don't use those and I think I'll wait a while before I do so don't be asking me about it cause I can't give you any advice.

"But momma who am I gone bother when you guys leave me? I can't be all the way down in Texas and y'all head back to Chicago. What about our special bond? Kid and parents. Parents and kid." I leaned my head on the back of my dad's headrest, reachin' out for somebody. Anybody.

My dad swats my hand away with his larger one that's free from holding the wheel.

"Like we said, you'll be fine baby. Oh look we're here." My dad pulls onto the campus of Texas State University. "I forgot how pretty the outside is. Let's hope the dorms hold up that same image or Ima have some complaints myself."

Now I'll be honest with you. Firstly, I did not attend this school based on my own will, but I know my parents are right. If I want to pursue a career in sales so I can eventually make it somewhere and start my own business then I need to go out and further my education because best believe high school ain't teach me shit about what it's like to maintain money and communicate with people in ways to not only benefit me but for them as well.