Fresh start

Overlooking the vast green grassland at the back of Ms. Fox's bookstore, this is way better than those on Getty Landscape Magazines. Do I really deserve to see such beauty? The sun painted in bright orange, already sinking halfway down the horizon. The birds singing as loudly as usual as if today is any better than yesterday. leaves falling gracefully as if all is well. the cold December air breeze making me shiver. The sea of clouds stealing the show. The impending rain awaits. In no less than 10 minutes, it was raining cats and dogs. I personally love rain. Though psychologically speaking, crime rates are higher during rainy days because just like experts claim, people think more and get depressed during these gloomy weather. But still, it totally feels like a friend has his hands over your shoulder ready to comfort you. To cry with you. I was so into it that I did not notice it has been an hour since I got out.

I am doomed.

It is five in the afternoon. About these moments the bookstore would be crowded by students looking for second hand review books hoping to do well on their final exams so they don't get their asses beaten and a busy businessman who somehow found time to visit the only bookstore in town to improve his "negotiation skills".

What I love about working in Ms. Fox' bookstore is the very solemn scent of silent books not until you decide to turn a page.. Enter the place and it will instantly feel like you are on a solitary walk on a seaside under the starless night, moonlight enveloping you with nothing but the sea waves as your companion. The books themselves have different stories to share. Once you flip a page, you will be brought to a whole new world. I often get so lost into my thoughts in this vibe that even after all these years, I can still feel the impact of the car collision. I can't recall the exact happenings but I do remember some parts of the tragedy.

I was diagnosed with selective amnesia right after my mom and dad died on the scene. The brain injury made them choose to send me to counseling too and was told I have anxiety disorder. But Aunt Molly won't believe it. "How can a kid who knows nothing get traumatized? That is impossible. This kid is lying. She could be a great actress, I can foresee it" she screamed while laughing at the doctors. "This kid is obviously lying, how can you all dumb doctors believe it? And you dare call yourselves learned people" she added. "She is being like this because she hates us, she wants to waste our money on her stupid cosultation trips so she keeps pretending to forget things, amnesia you say? Useless crap!" And then pulled me along, dragging me across the hospital halls.

My casual mind routine was interrupted when a man came up to me asking for help. He asked me for my recommendation. He's contemplating whether he should choose Nineteen eighty four or Moby Dick or the Dr. Whale. I replied if he wanted to know how a human being can be broken down completely until he'll believe whatever you tell him, the go for 1984. If he wants an american classic about anatomy of different species that could take him years to understand, then Moby Dick is good to go with him.

I enjoy this job a lot. I just help customers locate the books they are looking for, tell them my recommendations, zone out during break times and earn little amount of money I can call mine and sometimes get free cassava chips. I couldn't ask for more.

I was back to zoning out when a man dressed in a suit pulling the smart casual look came in. Never thought a bright light can even shine on me again giving my hope in life as tiny as a peep hole a chance.

---

The first day of my 4-year psychology program starts in a week. But today would be my first time in the University. With nothing but my suitcase and a backpack I found on time before Baby Molly dumps it. I asked him if I can just have it since I would be going to the university. Rolling his eyes, he is in a good mood that day enough to even converse with me and spend some of his expensive words "then take it it's a scarp anyway". I luckily got some papers from the bookstore and Ms. Fox even lent me a pen.

Months before the university starts, right after I learned that I can actually go through a scholarship program brought by the man in suit that I later heard was a division representative, I read some psychology books to get a head start. Some books I scanned include Phantoms in the brain that talked about various neurological disorders, how our brain shapes the way we perceive our own selves and the world around us. I also found a copy of The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat and Other Clinical Tales where Sacks talked about how he dealt with the most extraordinary conditions of the human brain and it made me realize how there are countless ways our brain can go wrong. I read them and again, it hit me. The mysteries of the human brain are extremely peculiar and puzzling. It made me crave for more. It is crazy that we can infer that even someone who tries to conceal himself in the darkest corner can be unfolded. Psychology is the study of the human mind and behavior. It makes me tick thinking how I can possibly decipher why someone behaves the way he does and it all roots from the remotest areas of the human brain. The brain is just an organ where our mind resides. The human mind is the conscious part of the constant firing of neurons, all of our thoughts we possess at a given time making us think rationally. But studies show that our mind goes way beyond just neurons sending chemical and electrical signals to each other.

I walked past the huge entrance gate leading to the vast university grounds beside the auditorium hall and it it jam packed with students of different year levels. I entered my future home in the next 4 years. If going here for free is not even great enough, I get to have my own bed in the school's dorm. How is this fortune possible? "Why on earth would I live in this dull dormitory? I might as well live in the streets" squealed by someone on the way out of the 10-story apartment building. If only she knew that someone with "family crisis" due to a fortuitous event is ready to do everything it takes just to get a chance to inhabit a "dull dormitory", I believe she might at least move her perspective an inch.

I mean a room brighter and the colors of the golden photos right outside the window reflecting the sunlight making the room more vibrant than my ramshackle place in the Molly residence. Indeed way better, right?

This way I can have my own personal space. It's not like I hated to be with the Mollys. It may not seem like it but I am far more grateful that they provided me with a roof above my head in the past twelve years. Well, as if they had a choice. The custody was assigned to them by the supreme court. They had to. And the whole time, they made sure to make me feel unwanted, unworthy and just another piece of mouth to put their hard-earned money into. Money sucker they call me. As though they fed me with a kfc drumstick. All I had was an apple most of the nights. If fortunate enough, I would get two apples. I will usually just indulge myself with the savory smell of fried crisps they share on the table and call it a night. I was so skinny Ms. Fox would give me a cereal bar every morning to help suppress my hunger. If I sell more books, she will give me cereal in a bowl. I just trick myself into thinking that I am doing an alternate day fast. But like, everyday.

I already picture myself studying hard now that I have my own study table. I can access more books through the university library. I can finally eat three times a day with my university food stamp provided along with the small food allowance. A thrill of excitement ran through my spine. Disrupted homeostasis happens when the body releases chemicals into the brain. It is what causes us to stimulate our emotions. By now, my endocrine system have probably stimulated different glands causing my heart rate to increase through the rise of oxygen and glucose flow. My anticipation rises. A great way to have a fresh start.

---

I finished unpacking my stuff. I put my few possessions inside the drawer. And for the final touch, I put out my tiny incense burner. The bluemink fragrance lingering over my nostrils. My roommates are not here yet. So I have the room for myself for the meantime. After settling down the dorm, I immediately got out to see what the university life ahead of me looks like. At a rough estimate, there are probably a thousand students scrimmaging in the school's vast field. Students immersed with signing up for clubs, chatting loudly with their friends whom they did not see for a month in spring vacation and engrossed in finding their classes.

I took out my registration slip and tried to locate every single one of my classes so I can live in peace until the actual classes start in a week. It would make my mind go crazy if I would have no idea where I would go. I will find every single comfort room on my way. I can never tell when I need to take a leak. It is not like I can just ask anybody where the comfort rooms are. I can never do that. I am already anxious enough knowing no one. What more approaching someone I don't know. The only thing I can do is prepare for the classes and aim for good grades. I have to prove I am worthy of the scholarship grant. I only have myself.

Not until I get to know Rich goes to Crest University as well. Actually, it was a slip of tongue. Or I must say, slip of a keyboard press. I was so happy to tell her I can go to a university a year after I graduated high school. I got in through scholarship and she said she knows I can do it. I never forced her to tell me about herself. I just let her tell me the things she is comfortable to talk about to me. She said it is crazy how we can possibly meet each other by accident but she immediately deleted the message. Fortunately, I saw it already. "Do you really go to CU?" I asked. She had no rights to deny it. She is the one who said it herself.

I told Rich I know no one on the campus and she knows about that very well. Also, it will be the perfect time to meet because we decided to meet in the future anyway. After a lot of convincing, she finally agreed to meet me in the cafeteria hall 7 right beside the grand fountain pouring water into the huge basin surrounded by ferns and marsh marigolds. It is so pretty under the broad daylight. There is not even a cloud. The trees dancing through the wind. Such a beautiful day.

Not many students are here. It is just the orientation week. They are all probably out to eat somewhere else. I think this is great. I can find her easily this way. All I have to do is look for a 5'8 woman wearing a plain shamrock green shirt. I am now getting nervous. I usually don't have the guts to come over to someone. I don't approach people. I am the ultimate unsociable person you will ever get to know. I get anxious when I have to talk to someone first. I can't even order a cup of americano. I guess I grew fond of her because we just talk to each other behind our screens. Without the need to make myself presentable. Without the urge to please her with how I look. I don't really have to think about everything I will blurt out. I just spilled everything I desired to spit out.

I can't wait to meet her. I just sat on a wooden bench in the middle of the cafeteria. I came a bit earlier than what we have agreed on. I just can't contain myself. Thinking I can really see her, how she looks like and how she talks. She might be as thrilled as me.

Suddenly a man is in front of me. "You are here early" he retorted. I glanced at him and I immediately looked down at my phone pretending to be busy with my phone. Is this man mistaken? Why would he talk to me in the first place? People should not scare others like that. Or is it just me who easily gets scared at the mere thought of someone I did not know talking to me. It is impossible that someone will talk to me because I don't know anyone else here. And the way he smiles, as if he knows me.

It took me a while to answer because I was so caught up in arguing with myself internally thinking he might be some stalker who has been following me when I go to work in the bookstore and maybe he plans to kidnap me, hold me as a hostage and extract ransom from my aunt. Haven't I been being so careful lately? What if he kills me? I calmed down when he said he is Rich. Mayhap I have just finished reading the Living Dead Girl that's why. His name is Rich, he says. Same as my internet friend Rich I am about to meet any second. What a coincidence.

Hold on. Wait a goddamn minute. Come to think of it. I have never really asked her about her gender at all. My clueless self just assumed she is a girl all because of the way she writes back to me. I imagined she is a soft and delicate woman younger than me by a year. We talked to each other everyday. There is no missing day at all. I casually talk about my sexual frustrations and longing to be hugged. At this point I am even willing to be crushed by two muscular arms. I am this desperate. She will always relieve me by saying it is going to be fine and I will find me a man soon.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" I responded. Whew that took me a lot of courage. I can't even look back up at him. This is triggering my social anxiety.

"Is this how you welcome me?" he said chuckling.

I instantly got up.

No way. He can't possibly be Rich, right? Right? Or maybe not. I am just deceiving myself into thinking this can never be possible. I can't take this.

"R-r-rich?" I muttered, still a little confused. My eyes about to pop away. Silently hoping this was all just a mistake. Lowkey wishing he is mistaken.

"It is so nice to finally meet you, Elle" he said cheerfully. Offering an embrace.

This is so crazy. How can I be so oblivious. I mean, how can I totally dismiss the idea of Rich being a 5'8 foot tall GUY. Which is obviously possible. It's just me who assumed he's a delicate and elegant girl. I am a complete idiot.