Chapter 2

I reached for the brass door-handle that would let me out of the room, which consisted of the toilets, five showers, a mouldy rug, and a trash can in each toilet cubicle that was overflowing with tissues and toilet paper. The communal bathrooms are filthy here, compared to the one back home. I sigh in exhaustion as my body slams on the bed. I open my eyes, and I look around my new single dorm room which isn't that bad-there's alot of walking space, a large study desk, fridge, wardrobe, bed, and communal bathrooms.

My phone rings and I instantly pick it up knowing it's my father.

"Hey, dad I'm done packi-"

"How are you feeling pumpkin" He suddenly interrupts

"I'm alright dad I told you it was just a headache this morning after the therapy session," I say reassuringly with a smile. My dad is so caring, I feel like the luckiest girl in the world to have a dad like him. Unfortunately, he was not able to help me carry my bags inside -due to the global pandemic parents were restricted from entering.

"Alright, how did packing go? I hope you didn't have any problems going up with your luggage? And remember sweety don't talk to anyone, especially boys they are all evil, no one is your friend, only I am your friend and only go out when-"

"I know, I know we went over everything this morning dad, and yes I'll call you every night before I go to sleep"

"Remember any other doctor besides m-"

"is wrong and does not know the correct way of studying medicine," I say with a smile on my face.

My dad is a brilliant doctor and he said the normal medicine system is wrong and only his medicine practices are correct so whenever I'm not feeling well I am only allowed to go to him. That's why he didn't want me going into any medical field and law.

"Dad I'll talk to you in the morning, I'm tired," I said while yawning

"Did you already take the new medication I gave you ?"

"Yes Dad "

"Well don't forget to take them every night just before you sleep"

"Am I going to have to take these for the rest of my life?"

"Yes sweety remember your sick, don't worry about it daddy will cure you okay?"

"Okay, I love you, daddy"

"I love you too sweetheart"

I hang up and place my phone on charge. A long day awaits me tomorrow- I have to sort out my timetable, go for orientation which I'm going to attend online to avoid any interactions with people.

I hear a soft knock at the door and I start to panic, my hands are shaking as I decide to just wait for whoever is knocking to go away, as the knocking becomes more firm and urgent -I decide to walk to the door, stand on my tiptoes, and see who it is through the peephole.

She looks to be around my age 5,5ft, tanned, long wavy sunflower blonde hair, deep green eyes, rimmed with long dark lashes. She was curved in an hourglass figure, she was smiling-showing her perfectly white straight teeth. I decided to just stay completely still and not make a sound until she went away, but as Rachel Caine once said -Clumsiness would be just as deadly an opponent. I lost my footing and slammed on the door.

"Hello!?", she calls out, her voice is fruity-pleasant to the ear. I reach for the doorknob but I hesitate a few times, each time taking a deep breath to calm myself down. Eventually, I slowly open the door..., and the first thing I notice was the cut on her left hand.

"Hi,im Lisa", she greets again with a warm smile on her face and extends her right hand for me to shake.

A young father holds his daughter's hand while walking down the street. "Genora, remember any other person thats not white is inferior to us -you should never associate yourself with them, do you understad?" he looks down to his 8-year-old daughter

"Yes daddy" she nods.

She clears her throat which brings me back bring me back from memory lane. She looks offended that I did not attempt to shake her hand back.

"U-MMM,s-ssorry covid" I stutter while giving a forced smile.

"Oh no it's okay, sorry to disturb neighbor, but I was wondering if you had some bandages yes? I cut my left hand while packing"

My mind is all over the place, one part of me wants me to lie and say I dont have but another part of me wants to help her, but she's not white, and Dad said anyone thats, not my skin color is bad-i dont know what to do.

"I-haave-somme," I stutter while moving away from the door to look for the first aid kit. I turn around to see Lisa strolling into my room and making herself comfortable on my bed. My eyes widen with shock, she immediately gets up after noticing my reaction.

"My bad girl, it's a bad habit of mine, I get too comfortable sometimes with strangers ...usual-"

"It's ok" I cut her off with a reassuring but awkward smile, she's already in the room might as well help her close the wound.

She sits back down on the edge of the bed as I grab a chair and sit right opposite her. For a while, we dont say anything as the room is filled with silence as I am cleaning the wound and wrapping it up while she's looking around my room.

"You paint?" She asks while staring at one of the art pieces on the wall

"Yes" I hesitantly reply

"Thats so cool im studying art are you also studying art," she says excitedly

"No, accounting, but I paint as a hobby"

"Your very talented, you know"

"thank you" I murmur flustered

"I never got your name?"

This time I felt a bit bold and extended my hand for her to shake

"Genora Davis"

She smiles and accepts my handshake

"Lisa Logos"