born to die

i

I inhale the city air and step out of the cab shakily. I watch as it speeds down the road, taking with it every bit of me that has remained calm and relaxed. I pick up the duffel bag and tear my gaze away, looking around to find my new flat.

I struggle to haul the bag up the narrow staircase, finally reaching the landing of flat 4B. Hands shaking nervously, I unlock the door, cracking a smile when I see the flat. It is beautifully furnished. This might actually work, I think to myself. I unpack my clothes and my books, sitting down on the couch in what will be my living room for the next three months. Three months is what it would take me to finish my degree in criminal psychology. And for my last three months of studies, I had decided to come to New York and do a project on the factors driving criminal behaviour in teenagers and young adults. My stomach flips at the thought of going to a prison, but I push it away, convincing myself that loads of people go to prisons everyday that aren't prisoners; that there was nothing to be nervous about.                                                                                                                                                                                   The night creeps in through the windows and the city comes alive with different noises: heels clicking on the pavement and people enthusiastically watching a sports match in a bar nearby, letting out howls when their team scores and hitting the table every now and then. I am torn away from my thoughts when I hear a gentle knock on the door, and I open it cautiously.

"Hi! Welcome to the flat!" I am taken aback by loud words. A tallish boy with large dimples carved into his cheeks smiles at me enthusiastically. In his outstretched hands he holds a box of chocolates.

"I'm Ashton," he continues, "And I live in 3B, the flat right underneath yours," the smile never leaves his face. He looks so excited to see me, like I am some long lost friend. He reminds me slightly of a puppy. I crack a smile at the thought, returning my attention to the boy in front of me.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Anna." I say, stepping aside from the door and inviting him in. He walks in and I guide him to the living room where I had been sitting before.

"So-" he begins, looking at me, "what brings you to the Big Apple?" After explaining my studies to him and earning the title of "smarty pants" I return the question and he laughs heartily, running his hands through his hair.

"I'm a failed musician and a somewhat successful architect," It is my turn to laugh.

"So you like music?" I ask,

"I breathe music." He replies and I agree with him wholeheartedly. Music is what keeps me going when everything around me seems to be crumbling. If I hadn't decided to study criminal psychology, I would have definitely chosen a musical career. Ashton snaps me out of my thoughts, asking me about what my favourite song is.

"I really like Green Day, Blink 182, Fall Out Boy, stuff like that." I shove his shoulder playfully. He laughs along with me, and I think about how comfortable I feel around him.

"Oh wow! A smarty pants with good music taste." We continue talking for a while before he notices the time and politely tells me has an early start. I bid him a friendly goodbye before readying myself for bed and climbing into the fresh sheets. My head swims with thoughts of the next morning. I am desperate to do a good job, to get my answers and to complete my education. But I also want to...bond with the prisoners. I know that most people who commit crimes aren't bad people. They'd just made bad choices. I want to know why they'd made these choices. I am nervous, will they like me? Why am I even getting nervous about this? I'll just walk in, do my job with a smile on my face and it will all be fine. Maybe I shouldn't smile; it might put them off. I shouldn't frown either. How do I introduce myself?