As I trudge through the heavy rain pelting down on me, I strain my eyes to peer through the thick fog ahead. Ever since I moved to London from Sweden, the weather has been downright abysmal, much like back home.
As I approach the apartment building I call home, my heart sinks at the sight of a cluster of blokes loitering about. Bloody hell, I curse silently to myself, I can't stand it when this happens. Squinting my eyes, I try to make out their faces, and it's clear that there are more than five of them.
"Excuse me," I say firmly, urging them to move out of my way. Reluctantly, they shift aside, their eyes locked onto me. I can't quite place their accent, it's not the typical London twang, that's for sure.
I enter the building and make my way towards the mailbox, which holds nothing but a stack of newspapers that no one in my household bothers to read. Useless rubbish, I mutter under my breath.
Glancing at the time, I realize it's already 20:00. Shit! I hurriedly step into the elevator, heading towards the eighth floor. I've got to be at school by 8:20 tomorrow, so I better pick up the pace.
***
My blaring alarm startles me awake, and I can feel the first rays of sunlight peeking through the window. I lazily reach out to check the time, and bloody hell, it's only 6:00! I've got a good two hours to get myself sorted.
Dragging myself to the bathroom, I relieve myself, wash my hands, and give my teeth a good brush. I splash some cold water on my face to shake off the sleepiness and get myself going.
I set up the shower, arranging all my necessary products on the counter. And hey, I ain't about to be walking around looking ashy like some of you lot, so I lather on some lotion to keep my skin on point. Wrapping my favorite robe around me, it snugly hugs my body.
I've already laid out my uniform on the bed, so I get cracking and start ironing it to perfection. Once it's all crisply pressed, I slip into the outfit.
Heading to the kitchen, I bump into my old man. Can't say I'm his biggest fan, considering the way he treated my mum-hitting her, stumbling home drunk, and the time we caught him with another woman. He tries to strike up a conversation with me, but I keep it brief. I fix myself a banging avocado toast and gulp down some apple juice. With breakfast sorted, I retreat back to my room and begin getting ready.
I whip off my bonnet, unveiling my fabulous bohemian braids. Next, I get to work on my basic skincare routine. As I munch on my toast, I glance at the time-it's 7:49, spot on. I can swing by the store and grab myself some lunch, and that's exactly what I do.
I strut down the street, blasting "Location" by Dave featuring Burna Boy. Mumbling along to the lyrics, I'm lost in my own thoughts when suddenly I collide with someone. Looking up, I'm taken aback to see it's one of the blokes who was blocking my path yesterday. "Excuse me," he says. Well, I never expected that from someone dressed like him, in a black tracksuit and a pair of fresh Jordan 4's.
