Certainty.

Schools

WITH a new day ahead of me, I would have expected to be more enthusiastic.

Waking up for school for the 1st day on a new city was a situation I had found myself in various times over the years, but never really accustomed to. It was always the same cold September mornings, a slight but growing panic in my chest, a knot in my throat and a constant brain-reminder not to forget any book.

This new house was fairly close to my school. All the other ones required me to catch the bus, so I was thankful I wouldn't have to be in schedule for another thing every single day at 6 AM.

Every first day was the same exact thing: you'd be introduced to your teachers, given instructions as to how it all works, probably forced to participate in an awkward meet-your-classmates game, and then sent home again. We never worked on first days, and most people didn't even bother to bring their books. But my parents believed it was better to be prepared for any possible circumstance. My bag felt heavy on my back. I hadn't carried one in almost 3 months, and had gotten used to the freeing sensation of having no back pain. I was not ready to suffer again, but I had no choice. 

That day, I had 6 hours of classes. I had barely even stepped out of my bed and I was already dreading the start of the day. Usually, on mornings, it would be me and my sister Caroline in the house by ourselves. Marya lived with her husband and both my parents worked the entire day, so our home was pretty much ours most of the week. As of 4 years ago, Caroline started her college studies and I would hardly see her, since she would lock herself in her room studying for hours to no end. 

Routines never changed for me. I would wake up, go to the bathroom to do my things, walk down the stairs to eat my breakfast (which was nearly always cereal, that I had to beg my parents to buy because I couldn't handle having low-sugar, 7 grain, gluten-free fake "cheerios" anymore), go upstairs again, get dressed, walk out the door and hope for the best. The best almost never came, but faith is the last to die.

I walked out of my house at a solid 7:30 AM. My classes, the first one being English, was meant to be starting at 8 AM, but I figured since I didn't know how long it would take me to reach my school, I decided to get out 30 minutes earlier. I also didn't want to be home anymore. My nerves we're picking at my skin, and my heart felt like it would jump out of my chest at any second. I didn't fear school, but I did worry about being laughed at, humiliated and left completely alone, again.

My steps were slow and stiff. It felt like I was dragging weights wrapped around my ankles. I quickened my pace. 

As I looked around, I was met with the familiarity of suburban houses, identically built, boring but cozy. Every few gardens I'd spot a dog or a cat, sometimes big, sometimes small, and would reach my hands to pet it. They almost always retrieved the touch, pressing their soft heads into my palms and my fingers. I wasn't allowed pets. There was no one to take care of them, and my parents deemed me too irresponsible to take such duty, so I would hang out with the neighborhood animals, petting them, running around with them, playing, walking them. One summer, I walked my neighbor's dog every day. It was a fun, fulfilling activity that made me feel more like a person, like my ability to love and to be loved made me more human, which it did. For 3 whole months, Mango, Mr's Collan one-eyed golden retriever was my best friend, and everyday I miss him.

After about 12 minutes of walking, I reached my school - a tall, wide white and slightly yellow building in U-shape that seemed to go on for forever. It was huge - bigger than every other school I had gone to before. It had classes ranging from 1st to 9th grade, so it had to be big, but still, I was not expecting this when I first moved. Outside, there was a large, lanky fence that surrounded the main structure. The gates had a little house where the guard would stay, as the others did, and there were benches and tables by the trees and grass. I could not see the back of the building, but i supposed it would be the gym. So far, it felt like a rather welcoming place. Frightening, but welcoming.