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When I moved to Oslo, all I wanted was to keep out of trouble. My goal was to become one of those people who stay in the background, blend in and get through school without causing any drama.
Moving was my chance at a fresh start. To reinvent myself in a new place, where nobody knew about my past.
I wanted to get good grades, or at least finally start caring about what grade I got. I wanted to become the person my mother always tried to raise me as; a good daughter.
Tried, as in she's always away and I've practically been raising myself.
Becoming that good, well-behaved person is difficult when you have a little devil constantly tapping your shoulder, telling you to be bad. That devil is my worst enemy. It always wants to have a little too much fun.
Okay, I admit. Before, I wouldn't even try to block it out. Especially if there was a party somewhere with a chance of getting free drinks off third-year guys thinking they'd get more than a cheeky kiss in return.
That was last year. I've promised myself to keep that behind me after the incident.
New school; new friends. New year; new me.
Cliché, I know.
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