I fell out of bed, struggling to untangle myself from the sheets that wrapped around my legs like vines. I laid on the floor, staring up at the spinning blades of the fan.

“I don’t recognize this ceiling,” I said to myself, half-jokingly.

It was six o’clock. An hour later than I was used to getting up – though I could use the extra sleep.

Shedding off the sheets, I stood up and shuffled toward the bathroom. Still half-asleep, I slid into the shower, letting the cool water wake me up, as it ran down my goose-bumped skin.

The water here had this strange feeling to it. It felt soft, silky even. It was an unusual, yet pleasant feeling. Different from the hard water I was used to.

After showering and brushing my teeth, I sat at a small dining table, eating breakfast. It was one of the few pieces of furniture in this studio apartment, which was practically one giant room, with a partial wall that separated the bedroom from the rest of the apartment, a connected bathroom, and a glass sliding door that gave access to an attached balcony.

The other furniture in this apartment, apart from the table I sat at, were a sofa, a bookshelf, a bed, and an unassembled desk – all brand new. The rest of the stuff, crowding the living room, where boxes that had been shipped from home, containing my belongings and a few parting gifts from some of the townsfolks.

I’d need to buy groceries and maybe a couple of small ornaments to decorate the place; but other than that, I had everything I needed here.

I yawned, taking a slow sip of the milky hot chocolate in my mug, sinking further into my chair. Sunlight filtered through the blinds, bathing the room a soft yellow. It gave off a warm, cozy feeling, that made me feel at home, even if only for a moment.

As I almost slipped back to sleep, it suddenly occurred to me how late it was.

I burst out my chair, almost choking as I chugged the rest of burning chocolate in a single gulp. I through the mug into the kitchen sink and slid across the carpet toward the mountain of boxes.

I rummaged through the poorly labeled boxes, reading golden eggs or fresh apples. It had saved us money to reuse these boxes, but I wished I had bothered to properly relabel them.

I didn’t have much time left. I needed to hurry and find my school uniform, or I’d be late. I should have prepared for school last night, rather than falling asleep as soon as I arrived. Or, at the very least, I should have packed something that important in my luggage.

After tearing apart half the boxes and making a huge mess, I finally found it. I changed quickly, grabbed my school bag, and ran out the door.

I still didn’t know my route to school, which is why I wanted to leave early. Too late for that, no point in complaining now. I’d have to trust on the shabby map I drew out and my sense of direction – polished from years of exploring the woods off the mountain path back home – to guide me there.

Or I could always just use the GPS on my phone.

…

I somehow managed to arrive at school, and on time to boot. Though arriving here alone was a miracle in and of itself. Both the map and the GPS failed to navigate me properly, due to construction on the roads.

While frantically wondering around the streets lost, I spotted a small group of teens dressed in the same school uniform. I tailed behind them and we eventually made our way into a wide road filled with other students in the same uniform.

In the distance, the stream of students flowed past a gate into the school.

The school was massive, made up of a few large buildings, connected to each other through pathways, both on the ground and in the sky. The walls were a mixture of lightly colored bricks and tinted glass panels, giving the campus a modern, almost futuristic feel.

The landscape, with its small trees surrounded by white stone, perfectly cut green grass, and trimmed shrubs in elevated marble planters, served only to heighten the modern aesthetic.

There appeared to be a smaller building behind the school, as well as a large, open field; but the view was largely obstructed by the building at the forefront. The towering building, at three stories tall, felt almost like a miniature high-rise, and the campus like a miniature city.

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It was intimidating. For someone used to a simpler lifestyle, its mere presence was all too intimidating.

…

The cafeteria was crammed with students, shoving against one another as they tried to make their way toward four large boards. The names of all the students, as well as their assigned homeroom, had been written on them, divided by grade and organized alphabetically by surname.

I squeezed toward the front, trying not to be suffocated by the packed crowd. Finally making my way through, I scanned the board for my grade-level. Though there was an unbelievable amount of names, thanks to the organization, I quickly found my name and room number.

Room 216, in the left wing of the main building, second floor.

Following the campus map, I made my way toward my room. I arrived just before the bell rang, barely making it on time. Safe, I cheered to myself victoriously.

Though students were still coming into class afterward, like nothing, so maybe there was no point in rushing.

Assigned seats were posted on the board, according to roll call numbers. I took my seat, toward the back of the class, next to the window. The teacher walking into the room shortly after, and class began.

He started off by taking roll. As their names were called out, each student was encouraged to give a brief introduction. I kept mine simple, trying not to draw too much attention to myself.

Afterward, the teacher handed out schedules to those that were present and gave a few quick announcements. Then, around fifteen minutes into class, we stood up to go to a morning assembly. An opening ceremony of sorts.

The assembly was held in the auditorium, a large theater-like room, with a high ceiling, maroon carpet and seat cushions, and a stage with finished wood planks. After an hour long of teachers and student council members talking to a growingly frustrated crowd, the principal gave a closing speech and the students began to flow out the room.

Classes continued right after, with students going to first period, which happened to be in the same room for me. Class ran for a few minutes shy of an hour, then students were let out once more. Pushing past one another, as they chaotically tried to make their way through the wide yet crowded hallways.

Instead of staying in the same room, each class had its own room. Having the students shuffle from class to class, rather than the teachers. And each time the bell rang, the same struggle to get to the next room unfolded. By noon, we had already repeated this four times and had earned a short break for lunch.

…

The cafeteria was as packed as expected, so I slipped out to the courtyard behind the school to eat. It was quiet and mostly solitary, save for the occasional couple passing by, perhaps because we weren’t supposed to eat out here.

I sat down on a stone bench, facing a large water fountain. Compared to the rest of the school, the fountain wasn’t as elaborate. Simple yet elegant, that was the best way to describe it.

I packed a small lunch, a sandwich and a juice box. It wasn’t much, but it still gave me an odd sense of satisfaction to eat. As I watched the fountain’s water stream down its basins, a gust of wind picked up some of its mist and gently brushed it against my skin.

It wasn’t so bad, eating alone like this once in a while. Soon, however, I wanted to make friends. Until then, I’ll enjoy this solitude.

As I stood up, to go to the next class, I looked up at the sky. It had begun to grey. It seemed the rest of the day might be slightly murky.

…

The sky had begun to get cloudy by noon, and now, at half-past two, the world had cooled down significantly with the grey skies. The sun completely masked away.

The chaotic reshuffling process had repeated another three times, until it was finally the seventh and last period.

I had physical education as my last class. In a gymnasium located behind the school in a large field, separate from the rest of the buildings.

Since it was still the first day, we weren’t going to be doing anything physical. The coach took roll, then brought us to the locker room where we were assigned a locker and gym uniform. We then returned to the gym, where we were allowed to sit on the bleachers and talk amongst ourselves.

I had begun to feel dazed by the overwhelming lifestyle here. Fast-paced, as if rushing all the time. Rushing right past me, and I had to run to try to keep up. Running, I was quickly running out of breath.

The oversaturation of people that crowded around me, as I struggled to move, created a suffocating atmosphere.

Yes, that was it. This whole time, I felt as if I couldn’t breathe. As if I was chocking. Being asphyxiated under the weight of this new life.

I stepped outside, needing to get some fresh air.

The sky was murky, having been almost completely blacked out. All there was were heavy clouds, dark masses that filled the sky with their oppressive presence.

I walked down the pavement, toward the tennis court. And took a seat on one of the benches placed just outside it.

Slowly, the rain began to pour down. First in scattered droplets, followed by thicker, more consistent drops. Until heavy rain was pounding the pavement, hissing as it crashed against the ground.

I ran back to the gym, to take shelter under its roof. The sound of the rain echoed off the open walls, being amplified into my ears. The wind pushing against the rain, mixed with the setting fog, made it hard to see more than a few feet away.

Just beyond my field of vision, in the midst of the rainfall, stood an obscured figure, looking up at the sky. They brought their head down and, for a brief moment, our eyes met. Before they disappeared, swallowed up by the fog.

…

The rain continued into the evening.

On my way back from school, I stopped by at the grocery store and returned home with a few bags. Mainly daily necessities.

My windows rattled softly as the wind pushed against them and the rain pattered as it hit the glass.

I ate at the table, all alone. Accompanied by the distant sound of the rain. At times it would slow down, only to pick back up with a crashing thunder.

Even until the night, the rain continued. Continued over and over. Endlessly. Growing louder as it did.

I laid in bed, and all other sound faded away.

All, but the never-ending rain.