3:17am || Brad Simpson

Chapter One

College

When you finally graduate highschool, do people actually take the world seriously like they repeated to us everyday?

Or is it where you have no rules and are free to do whatever you please?

I’d say it’s somewhere in the middle.

College usually revolves the parties and amount of kegs one can acquire.

I’ve repeated it so many times to myself in the mirror before I packed up the final amount of my things into my car and said goodbye to my mother;

this year will be different.

New school, new city, new way to start over and become myself.

Do I want to be that party girl that everyone talks about when she walks down the hallway?

Or do I want to be the nerd who spends all her free time to try and pay off her student loans? It’s not really different if you ask me. You’re still going to be judged for everything you do.

Maybe your peers will care a bit less because there’s thousands of other people’s name that need to enter their mouths.

Two hours doesn’t seem like a long time but when you’re flying by everything you used to grow up on at 113 kilometers per hour, it makes my heart shake a little bit. Am I really ready for this?

London

I’m going to be living in the beautiful city of London.

I’ve dreamed of this since I was 5 years old and now I’m finally doing it.

At 17 years old, I’m on a 190 km drive to my future.

My mother tried very hard to get me to agree to staying a dorm. But I wouldn’t budge.

I couldn’t imagine living with a stranger and having the possibility of my things being stolen. No way. So my father and I went flat browsing back in the spring, finding the perfect one of me.

I’ve probably circled the block three times. This is my future, steps away, how can I not be scared? This is what they focused our lives on for 12 years and it’s eating me away.

I take my ounce of confidence and park right in front of the brick building and unload my car just like I packed it. I held a two boxes piled up over my face and two suitcases strolling behind me. The man at the door immediately pulled out of those luggage carts.

“Is that all, ma’am?” He forced a smile on his face. Why wouldn’t he? He most likely gets paid minimum wage and help out asshole people all day.

“There’s a bed set in my trunk. I’ll be right back.” I could tell his face distorted a bit when I spoke. I guess the people find it weird to see an American in the city of London. I lived in North Carolina up until I was 11. My father was forced to move to Birmingham for business, obviously my mother and I, tagging along. That seems like a lifetime ago. Skinned knees and warm summers listening to the waves crash against the shoreline. Now my parents only speak if it’s family get-togethers or we have to go back to the states. The doorman appeared outside and shakily breaking me out of my thought.

“Miss, are you okay?” He tilted his head to the side.

“Yeah, thank you.” I smiled.

He placed the large full set of bed essentials on top of the luggage already placed on the cart. We stepped into the elevator together and I pressed the button. Floor 13; the very last level. About 30 seconds later, the elevator doors widen and he gestured for me to go first. We walked down to the end of the hall, right by a huge floor-to-roof window. Beautiful. I took the key I had in my pocket. I recieved it a few weeks ago, when I was finally able to say this apartment was mine. I stepped inside the loft and he pushed the cart into the room.

“Is that all for today, ma’am?” He questioned me. I shook my head still in astonishment. He soon left the room and I came to realization.

“Hey, wait!” I yelled down the hallway. I’m sure my neighbors will love me. “Remind me about your tip when I get cash. Thanks.” I closed the door and separated myself from the world; or the rest of my neighbors to be exact. I look around the beautiful decorated flat. I remember my dad taking me to the Gautier a couple kilometers from here but when he said “pick anything out” I didn’t expect him to buy me almost everything. The living room was painted a tan color with a beige couch in the middle and a glass coffee table placed in front of it. There were fascinating artwork lining the walls. A large television was placed a couple feet in front of the coffee table. There were candles; everywhere. My dad knew I loved candles ever since I first made them in girl scouts when I was 7. Maroon printed drapes were hanging on the far wall, and this is when I knew where I would be spending most of my time. I pushed the curtain over and exposed myself to a sliding glass door. I stepped onto the balcony overlooking the city.I had to hold my hand to my chest before I passed out. There was a white table with two matching chairs right in the center. There was a large space for me to lean against the railing and take in the sight.

After exploring the stainless steel and granite countertops in the kitchen to the jet tub and glass shower in the bathroom, I was standing at the door to the last room; my bedroom. I slowly twisted the doorknob to uncover the last room. There was a queen sized bed in a dark mahogany bed frame against the wall with only a mattress and box spring on it. On the wall where the door was, there was a nicely sized flat screen tv on top of a matching stand to my bed frame. Across from the bed, there was a desk and a desk chair. I felt a jolt of excitement to decorate it. And lastly, a dresser that I could fill with my clothing. On top of it, laid a white envelope. I sat on my bed and forcefully opened it.

Dear Logan,

I know doing all of this for you won’t make up for the time lost, or faded memories. ‘But it’s a start. Your rent will be sent to me until you feel as if you’re ready and stable enough to pay for it yourself. I love you and I’ll see you Brighton soon. I’ll ring you within the next week.

I love you.

Dad.

We already discussed the payment situations but I cannot thank him enough. I told him I should pay for myself but still, he’s my dad. He’s not going to agree. I emerged from the bed and walked back out to the living room to retrieve my belongings.

Eight hours later, I was finally complete. Placing all my makeup in the drawers of the bathroom and labeling them with what portion of my face, unpacking all my clothing into the wooden dresser or the walk-in closet attached to my room. Pinning the moon and sun tapestry I bought a few weeks before, along with the white feathered comforter and pillows onto my bed. My dad already supplied the cabinets with plates, bowls, forks, cups, etc. And my own beloved from home; my keurig.

 It was now 1:34 in the morning, and it struck me that tomorrow was the first day at my new life;

The University of London.

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Sorry this is boring! I just needed a way to introduce the story. Trust me, it gets a lot better ;)