My knowledge of City life extends to walking in the right side of the pavement to avoid being trampled on by an army of suits. Once I confused a bus driver so much, he took me to the other side of the road. On the curb, arms are flung in front of me in an attempt to protect me from oncoming cars – often whizzing by unnoticed to my bewildered eyes. I planned on living my life in the seclusion of fields and country lanes, in order to lower the probability of my premature death.
Planning is utter codswollup. We’re moving to a city.
A new house. A new college. A new set of friends – except a few, obviously. A new school for most my age is enough to worry about, so why am I not insane? Either it hasn’t sunk in to my mess of a mind that this is really happening, or maybe I’m actually just okay with the premise. What if it suddenly slaps me across the face, and I turn into a lunatic with pink streaks in my hair? I don’t know why I’d get pink streaks. My stomach swirls with a mixture of emotions when I think of it – upset, worry, panic. Then excitement, curiosity and intrigue.
It was looking forward to a new college along side my best friend and boyfriend, I feel a little left out they’re going without me. The college was impressive, but strangely even when I went to an open day it didn’t feel like I was going to go there. I could of walked to this college, and sat on the river bank with my boyfriend or best friend during frees. Maybe I’m a daydreamer, I’m sure we’d be too busy to sit around. Alex has already got a load of ‘mates’ (reckons himself a tough guy) at college, so he’d be with them often. As for my best friend, surely it’s better to make a few new friends too and widen your horizons?
The new college I will have to cycle to – lets see how long I live. My bags will go in a basket on the front of my bike, as I peddle up a steep hill, sweat dripping from my forehead. I’ve already been given mountains of summer work, to which I’m building up the courage to start (anyday now, I will find motivation). Not to brag, but there’s two sushi shops down the road, and a billion coffee shops. I can imagine myself working quietly in the corner of a coffee shop with a cappuccino and a masterpiece forming in front of me – unfortunately, I don’t like coffee and I hate going places alone.
I can’t wait to redesign my own bedroom, I’m thinking bohemian style with a canopy and a multicoloured wall mural – in the perfect, brilliant white, brand spanking new house. My parents may be the reason for my premature death if I were to do this. Although it will be my hidyhole from the busy city, so I plan to make it very cosy. I’d like big cushions, thick rugs, artwork hanging on the walls and a desk to do some work in peace – also a super fast internet connection for flawless FaceTime with Alex.
I’ll need a job. I want to visit Alex, and he will hopefully want to visit me. It’s a three-ish hour train journey, where I plan to get all my homework done. I mean, I’m still hedging my bets on the chances of me getting car… hint, hint. I’d like a job in a little vintage shop, telling everyone they look ‘gorgeous darling’. But I suppose I can’t be picky, employers aren’t exactly begging for non-experienced sixteen years olds. The problem is, I’m a college during the day, will often be coming home at weekends and I’m terrified to walk anywhere at night alone. Although I’m sure my ugly mug emerging from the dark will protect me from potential threats at night.
I guess this may be pretty boring unless you’re going through the same thing as me, so I’d like to say I’m sorry – but I’m not. Sometimes it’s nice to write things down, and also get other’s opinions. I’m not worried, I’m fine no matter where I am. Aslong as I have the people around me that make things not quite so serious.