The train station is crowded. People all around me are rushing- desperate to go back home to their families and their homes. It’s 5pm on a Friday, so there are a lot of businesspeople, dressed in suits and dotted ties, with gelled back hair and anxious facial expressions caused by late hours and long meetings. There are some mothers, guiding their small children along, advising them to stay far away from the train tracks and promising them cake and fruit juice when they come home. There are random electronic beeps from ticket machines accompanied by a cacophony of voices. There’s a loud screeching of trains pulling into the station. All these noises surround me, merging together in my head like one great tidal wave of sound.
It is a relief when my headphones slip in front of my ears, drowning out all background noise and instead replacing it with thumping beats and melodic singing. I walk across the train platform, absentmindedly picking up a leaflet from a nearby stand as I do so. ‘Welcome to Lake Salemeria!’ That name sounds like quite a mouthful. However, Lake Salemeria is also going to be my new home, so I should probably get used to it. Still, when I mouth the words, they feel unusual, foreign.
I came from the United States to here for one reason. My college scholarship.…show more content… Back then, in sixth grade, if you had a boyfriend or girlfriend, you were cool. People would let you skip in line for lunch if you were with your significant other, and some genius invented a ‘Couples Club’, a club you could only go to if you were with a date. So, one day this boy I barely knew from my History class went up to me and just asked me out without any warning. I was so stunned that I actually said yes, but then after that I realised that he just asked me out because he was desperate to be popular and hang out in the ‘Couples Club’. So after a month of parading me on his arm and showing me off like I was some kind of status symbol, I dumped
