The Ride of My Life!

PREFACE

I believe its ordinary people that hide some of the most extraordinary tales. You never really know how someone’s walk of life went until you can prove that you took the same walk in their shoes. Well I’m a size three and it’s hard to find many adults who are able to squeeze into a pair of my favourite PLUM stilettos, hence my walk of life ought to be a unique kind of walk, one that’s probably worth telling. I am just an ordinary 20 year old, pretty looking but not without my annoying appearance flaws, rather petite yet my torso has just the right amount of meat, nothing about me is strikingly attractive but I definitely can keep eyes fixed of me for a long while and although I may not be the highlight of the room, I can seriously light up the spot of the room where I’m standing. This informal introduction of me proves I’m just like everyone else, nothing special yet like everyone else, I’m worth looking into. This is me and my walk of life. Nevertheless the aspect that I wish to deal with isn’t about a walk per se, it’s more a drive. Well actually it’s a journey. But not a single journey, it’s a few trips back and forth, it’s an adventure. A necessary means of transportation that I had to tolerate daily but it was these daily trips in which my status, views, outlook of life and even my life itself all changed. Many trips that took me to where my new book of life actually begun. My name is Lilly Abercrombie and this is my story of how my destiny unfolded to help me reach my destination.

THE WILD

February 2009, marked the end of being fenced in the school premises under constant principle and teacher scrutiny and the entry into what I like to call the ‘wild’. University is no different to the wild life. Don’t get me wrong university is not without rules but these ‘regulations of proper conduct’ reach deaf ears. In a place as open and large as the grounds of university, it’s inevitable that one wills to play a little game of hide and not get found in time for lecture or imitate Wentworth Miller in PRISON BREAK, however escaping from the prison of further education is as easy as scanning a valid student card to get out of the gates, no ways university security will pull out their weapons if you caught leaving while your lectures still in progress. I knew what I was in for; I had already heard the stories of the awesomeness of ‘campus life’ from my seniors. The freedom I was headed toward had me grinning with immense ounces of pleasure yet the thought of what I’d do with my newly found freedom had me shaking in my fur boats. The fear of that accompanied by the scary vision of little me surrounded by millions of unfamiliar faces, unaware of what to expect, It  was almost as if I was a monkey about to get stampeded on by a herd of malicious elephants and this sight had me nostalgic. Was I really ready for this?  My head tortured by the constant game of truth and dare that my mind was engrossed in. While the truth was I was too naïve, gullible and ignorant for this new phase, my dare was that I had to prove to myself and everyone else that I was independent enough to step into the world and I was dead set on fulfilling my dare . While the days before orientation week had the butterflies in my tummy doing summersaults’, little did I know that it was my ride to university that I had to fear more than university itself….

A MESS ON WHEELS

The day had finally arrived, my first day of university where I would embark on a three year journey to complete my course in journalism. Unaware that my journey to university itself would prove to teach me much more than all the lessons provided in my study material. I adorned myself with the best top I owned, the turquoise on the top somehow made my eyes seem sparkly, I danced and jumped my way into my tightest yet most flattering pair of jeans. Either the mirror was ultra dirty and reflected a super gorgeous me or my eyes were blur and showed me that which a wanted to see – me looking ultra fly, however I looked good so I felt good and this made me feel confident enough to handle anything that got thrown my way, or so I thought. Since to get to university from my home is almost a 40km drive, transport was a necessity. Most of the times when you are looking for something urgently you never find it or you don’t find precisely what you looking for, so finding a suitable daily ride was mission impossible. Lucky mum spotted an ad outside her work building that had a licensed 63 year old man dropping and fetching first year students to and from university. Without further contemplation mum arranged with him and my means of transportation was sorted. I had called him the night before and his stern voice warning me to be ready by eight sharp rang in my ears. I already envisioned him as a tall, dark stranger with a strict demeanor and antisocial qualities, just doing transportation to put food on his table. By five to eight on the dot I was ready, eagerly awaiting that which was yet to come. Quarter past, half past, twenty to, quarter to, and finally nine but my transportation was not yet there. Anticipation kills, before I knew it I was pacing up and down my room. The clock stroke half nine and ‘peep peep’ a white vehicle could be seen in the drive way. My new ride’s hooter produced the strangest sound ever it was almost like that of a dying creature or an owl tooting in the darkness of the night, I had never heard a hooter like this one before and something about this hooter made it clear that things were definitely going to change and drastically might I add.