And 6 Years Later... ( #JustWriteIt )

Chapter one: Manchester here I come.

Going to Manchester has been my big impossible looking dream since I was twelve. And even though I'm on my way there, I can't believe I will soon be able to say 'I made it to the city of my dreams' and this early, like I'm only 18 and I'm about to make it. Unbelievable.

The flight is about five hours long, but it feels like I'm going to wait in this plane forever. I tried listening to music, watching a movie, reading a book, talking with the old lady sitting next to me. Everything, but all I can think about are the 'what if's' :

What if we crash,
And I can't use my life vest.
Or there isn't enough oxygen for me.
Or we end up in the sea (I'm such a bad swimmer)
Or simply, die.

What if I fall asleep and drown in my own saliva (I tend to eject a lot of that during my sleep)

What if they don't accept me in England and I end up back where I'm from.

Etc....

Of course the flight went by perfectly okay. The wait agonizing but still okay. The paper/passport checks were never ending. The baggage claim astonishingly in disorder. And the cabs weirdly unfindable.

Once I catch one, and give the directions to the driver in perfect English with an almost perfect accent (I made myself learn English very seriously since the summer of my 12 years old, and I'm pretty proud about the results) to take me to the campus of the great University of Manchester, getting an international scholarship there will always be one of my greatest accomplishments. Full ride.

"You must be quiet smart, being accepted to such a university and all. I'know a very clever little young man, got rejected" the driver said. I don't really know what to say. Maybe I should just shut up? Nah that'd be weird.

"I'm sad to hear this. He should try somewhere else, there are a lot of great universities in England"I reply, trying to be as polite as possible.

"Aye, you're right. Cheaper too. This one's bloody expensive!" This time I do shut up. No need to tell him that I also got a scholarship.

££££££££££££££

The first thing that caught my eye sight when I entered the room I was staying in for the year, was the luggage splattered across the floor on the right side of the room.

The room isn't that big but the space is well managed, two single beds on each side of the room, a closet between them against the wall, and a desk against the wall facing the closet. And a window on the left side. My side.

I put my luggage near the bed and plug my phone in the charger, it died during the airport wait.

I knew I was going to have a roomie, but I never gave it that much thoughts, although now; seeing all the suitcases and bags, I start feeling rather appprehensive about her, what is she like? Nice? Mean? Smart? Snobby? Scholarship student? Or girly? Too much into gossip? I have no clue, and I'm rather scared to figure it out.

To occupy myself and avoid overthinking the roomate deal too much, I decide to start unpacking, the bed is made out of a big drawer, which I think is a very clever space managing hack; and very useful also.

Once all my clothes, books, shoes, are set; I prepare my shower essentials, along with a clean outfit and clean undergraments and head to the bathrooms for a cold relaxing shower. I spent almost 20 minutes looking for the showers, it's so big; the hallways are never ending, I will have to wake up early next monday for my first class, to have enough time to find the classroom.

When I am showered and dressed, I go back to my room only to find my roomate; and let me tell you she's gorgeous, shoulder lenght perfect blond/brown hair, tall slim figure, beautiful features. Just gorgeous.