danza silenziosa

PROLOGO

My eyes flushed open to the sound of my phone buzzing. Really... no fun. Dozing off at 2 AM, then having to wake up at 6 AM is repulsive.

America was going to take some getting used to.
I miss Italy.
I miss home...

but, I need to suck it up.

Unhurriedly pulling the bed sheets off of my body and standing up out of bed, yeah... I might be late... but let us get some more sleep, god dammit! Who in the right mind insists to themselves, let's make all of these students from all over the world attend one of the greatest colleges for the arts get almost zero sleep and make them miserable!

Don't college students sleep nocturnally anyways? Well... I'm from Campania, nonetheless my sleep schedule is pretty funky already. Ugh... my schedule really sucks.

But, enough about my complaints about beauty rest, right? As I stripped myself, I attired myself with a pale white sweatshirt, with a black leotard underneath, and black leggings, and some white and black Adidas. A typical "white girl outfit," as some people say now... which really isn't that funny. I wear the outfits I adore and I express myself in. I enjoy them, and at least I'm not dressing nude... blood would be rushing to some people's heads if I dressed nude! Haha! Sto scherzando!

Bringing my draw-string bag, within it held a small laptop-and-tablet-in-one. It was on sale for freshmen, so I purchased it. My bag was also holding some water, my phone and some earbuds. After all, my first class was huge and probably was going to be pretty crowded. During breaks, I could probably just kick some extra snoozing in and feel refreshed.

Heading into the bathroom, I combed my hair and brushed my teeth. Looking in the mirror, I saw the same girl as always. Me. Snapping out of the gaze into myself, I headed out of my bathroom and out of my apartment. I locked my door— not once, or twice— but three times. Who knows what could get in there. Inhaling and exhaling before beginning to walk, I was stopped by Katia and Gino, the young new weds. The embodiment of a perfect husband and wife. I wish I could have that someday.

"Ciao, bella! Come state?" Gino grinned, wrapping an arm around his wife's shoulder. At least the neighbors' first language was the same as mine.
(Translation; Hi, beautiful! How are you?)

"Eh.. cosi-cosi. Oggi ho un inizio piuttosto difficile." I replied, returning a genuine-but-really-exhausted smile. "E Lei?"
(Translation; Eh.. so, so. Today I have a rather difficult start.)

Katia added, "fai del tuo meglio, tesoro." Both of them are so kind. I can't wait to be like them someday with someone.
(Translation; just do your best, honey.)

"Grazie," I responded, my day becoming a little brighter, "devo andare! A presto, amici."
(Translation; Thank you. I need to go! See you soon, friends.)

I walked off, waving goodbye to the couple. I don't mean to be arrogant or anything, but I know I'm pretty nice. I just strive to be like them someday.

Eventually, I walked out of the big apartment complex. I filed down to the bus stop, placing my earbuds into each ear, humming to the music on my playlist.

Feel like a brand new person (but you make the same old mistakes)
I finally know what is love (you don't have what it takes)
(Stop before it's not too late)
(I know there's too much at stake)
(Making the same mistakes)
And I still don't know why it's happening
(Stop while it's not too late) And I still don't know

(Same Ol' Mistakes by Rihanna)

This song's been in my head for a couple of days, actually. It helps me cool down and take a breather when I work my body too forcefully.

Noticing the transportation bus show up and open its door, I headed in and took a seat in the front, whistling quietly.

"Hey, you." I looked around, as he looked at me through his rear mirror. "Yes, you. My name's James. Nice to meet you.
"You're a newcomer. You a freshman?" The bus driver asked.

"Umm.. yeah. Staafani College for the Arts. First year." I answered, surprised the man confronted me. He seemed pretty nice, though— he looks like he's in his late 20s. I imagine he was in the same position as me once. Probably.

"Cool. What are you majoring in?" James questioned me again. This guy seemed to like a lot of questions. Maybe he doesn't have that much knowledge about the arts.

"Dance. Ballet, modern, and jazz technique. I'm a dancer." I took out my earbuds finally, becoming engaged in the conversation I was having with him. Maybe I would take the bus from now on always, as a commuter. Having simple conversations, one-on-one wouldn't make the way to my classes as dull and boring.

"Heh. That's impressive, kid. Did you get an internship?"

"Yeah. I was on my high school dance team and was a part of my studio's team. Captain of it, actually. A couple of people from Staafani came during a competition and gave me a free internship. I've been wanting to take it to the next level at some point, so I've been contemplating for this moment' Besides waking up at 6 AM."

"Haha.. you seem talented. I know we just met, but I'd like to watch you dance someday. You must be really good to get into one of the greatest colleges of all time." He complimented me. He's never watched me dance... but still believes I'm good? Huh. I hope people like him have some kind of faith in me. Things will maybe turn out the way I want it to be.

Before James and I even knew it, I was already located at my stop. Right at campus. Standing up and slinging my bag over my shoulder, I waved to the bus driver as I began to step out.

"Take care. What's your name?"

"Carina. Carina DiNuccio."