Pluviophile

Chapter 1

The doors of the cabin open with slightly use of force. The sunbeams sneak through the crack of the door, and soon the whole kitchen lights up in a gleaming shower of light. The dust dances through the sunbeams, and the sound of the birds awakes. It's early morning in Yachats, and as I crack open the door, I see the ocean. I take in a deep breath and step outside.

 I always loved living here. I love waking up every morning, being able to see the horizon over the ocean. But this time tomorrow, I will be waking up in a dorm, with a random person beside me. I am excited, actually very excited, but the thought of leaving my mom in this house alone for so long tears my heart in two. She has always been there for us, every time we were sad or lonely or felt abandoned, she would step in and make us forget every struggle. It was like magic. And now I thank her by moving away. My brothers did the same. They moved away, and soon it was only her and me, she got sad, but still, she loved me with every piece she had in her. And now I, as the last son, as the final child, leave her, in this house, all alone. I know she will be all right, she is strong like that, but I know it will be difficult for her. Footsteps approach and I turn around.

"Good morning," she says and smiles "You're up early."

"I need to pack the last box before we leave." I know that she is happy for me, but I can see that she is struggling. 

"I'm excited mom I know I'm leaving, but I'm excited," I say and look at her. I see her smile fading.

"I know you are. I am too." She kisses me on the cheek and walks down our path to the hammock.

Soon she is surrounded by bushes, and I see her sit down in the hammock. Growing up here was perfect. I remember running around through these bushes, trying to hide from my older brothers, who were determined to catch me. The pure feeling of fear when hiding and hearing their light footsteps right beside me. Knowing that if I made a sound, a single noise, they would bust me. Feeling the grass under my feet as I stood up and ran for my life. Or the mud, between my toes, when I would accidentally step in a puddle. No matter have rough it got, it would always end in laughter. And the look on mom's face when we came back, covered in grass and mud, and who knows what. It's hard turning your back on this childhood. But time doesn't seem to stop, even when you wish for it the most, it keeps going, and you have to ride along.The trunk of the car slams shut. It's an old Plymouth Voyager from the '90s, we have had it all my life. I only remember this car. It's old, but it holds a lot of memories. Long road trips up and down the coastline, car sickness and long naps are the essences of my childhood. Long nights in strange tents, waking up to the sunrise and running down the shore, is what our summers consisted of.

I sit down in the front seat and look at my mom. She gives me a quick smile, and then she backs out the driveway, resting her hand on my seat. It is only a two-hour drive to The University of Oregon, but I knew it would be a long two hours. I looked out the window and saw the trees passing by but as we turned onto the highway and the trees were replaced by signs and other cars, and even though I try my best to stay awake, I drift off to sleep to the sound of The Lumineers on the radio.

As we turn into campus my mom wakes me, letting me know we are arriving. We find a parking spot, and she helps me carry in my boxes. It all seems overwhelming. People are gathering in groups, talking. laughing, singing and dancing. While a handful sits alone or looks as confused as I. The building is big and seems more modern than I would have expected. I step into my hall. The insides are not as modern as the outsides, but I don't mind. I step into my dorm, it's empty. The brown furniture makes me think of old high school classrooms. The two beds are divided by a small pathway. In front of each bed is a desk, and a couple of shelves, as well as a wardrobe. I put down my boxes and open them. I feel like I should be unpacking, but I'm bewildered and can't seem to figure out where to put my stuff. My breath is heavy and dense, and I feel like I can't catch a breath. "Are you all right?" Mom asks me. I look up, and my eyes widen as if I had just been interrupted.
"Yes, yeah, sorry. I'm good." I give her a slight smile, "It's all a bit overwhelming."
"Well, of course, it is. It's a whole new place, and you're going to be living here. This right here is your new life. I couldn't imagine it being anything else than overwhelming." She gives me a reassuring smile, "Now, let's unpack some of this before I go back." I nod. 

I find it difficult imagining my day-to-day life without her. But I guess it's all just a part of growing up; letting go.

I hug her goodbye and wave to her when she drives off, and just like that, I'm here all alone. I turn around and take a stroll through the campus park, hoping to bump into someone as they do in the movies, and suddenly you've made a friend for life, but this is real life. The mixer is in 30 minutes, so I sit down on a bench and look at my surrounding, trying to comprehend everything, and make sense of what is going on.
"You look lost." I look up surprisingly. A girl with black curly hair, glasses and golden brown skin looked at me with a slight smile, "Are you going to the mixer?" she asks delicately.
"Uhm, yes I am" I answer.
"Well, you can come with me; I know an anxious face when I see one," she says joyfully. I stand up and follow her. She walks fast, and I have a hard time keeping up.
"So, my name is Ava, I just started here today, as I assume you did too." she looks back to make sure I'm still there, "I'm studying English"
"Oh, no kidding, me too!" I say suddenly delighted.
"Cool, I'm glad! I only met one other English major." She smiles. She is very beautiful. We walk into the big hall. The ceilings are high, and I instantly get a sensation of being small and insignificant. We find a seat and let the mixer begin.