I was too excited for today. Finally, I was going to college. And why did I feel this excited for the first time in my eighteen years of life? I was going to stay away from my parents. Don't get me wrong — I loved them — but they treated me like a child who needed their attention and supervision twenty-four-seven.
They had been totally against me going to a college away from our city, but I had quietly sent my applications to colleges far away. Now, there was nothing they could do.
As I got ready, my mom's voice echoed from downstairs, slightly panicked.
"Aurora, you need to hurry! Otherwise, we'll be late!"
"Coming, Mom!" I replied, grabbing my bag from the bed.
I walked down slowly. My mom waited at the front door, worry written all over her face, while my father loaded my luggage into the car.
"Do you really have to go?" my mom asked softly, her eyes glistening. "We could apply again next year… in a college closer to home."
I felt a rush of irritation. "Mom, please. You want me to waste my precious year?"
She sighed and smiled faintly. "Okay, honey… whatever you say."
I stepped outside. My mom lingered at the doorway, silently watching me leave.
Before I could get into the car, a familiar voice called out. "Aurora!"
I turned. Maxwell — my best friend — came running towards us.
"Aren't you leaving?" I asked, surprised.
"Yeah… I was," he admitted, slightly out of breath. "Then I told my parents we should wait for you. Let's go together."
Of course. We had both gotten into the same college. Maxwell was a little cowardly, always overthinking, and I was the one protecting him from the world. Thank God we hadn't applied for the same majors — otherwise, disaster.
I wanted this year to prove that I could handle myself, that other people wouldn't hurt me. But apparently, my parents and Maxwell didn't agree with my definition of "handling myself."
Finally, we were on the road. The ride to college was about an hour, but I spent it staring out the window, ignoring my parents, who watched me like I was marching off to war through the rearview mirror.
---
Both my parents and Maxwell's father followed us to the college. We entered the city, and everything felt different. Even though it was just an hour away, I had never been here before — well, you know the reason. I looked excitedly at every corner, as if the city itself might disappear the moment I blinked.
After ten more minutes, we reached a secluded area. There were no houses, not a single person in sight — just one large door. That was the place I was going to call home for the next four years.
Maxwell's father drove past the door first, then it was our turn. A guard looked into the car and asked for our purpose. My father handed over the admission letters. After a quick glance, the guard nodded and opened the gate.
Even after passing through, we had to drive for another ten minutes before reaching the administration block.
---
We entered the building, which smelled faintly of polished wood and old books. The administrator, a warm-faced woman in her late forties, greeted us immediately.
"Welcome! These must be the proud parents," she said kindly, looking at our parents. "And you must be the students!"
My mother's eyes immediately filled with tears, my father's jaw tightened, and Maxwell's father looked emotional as well.
"We are proud… but we will miss you both," my mother said, her voice trembling. "Take care of yourselves. Don't forget us."
"I know, Mom… Dad," I whispered, hugging them tightly. Maxwell hugged his father and me, sniffing but trying to hold it together.
After a few moments of quiet goodbyes, our parents left, tears in their eyes. I felt a strange mixture of guilt and excitement — this was my life now, my independence.
---
The administrator led Maxwell and me into her office. The room smelled faintly of coffee, paper, and a hint of something floral I couldn't place. She spread our schedules and room assignments on the desk. I scanned mine — classes, professors, dorm numbers — my head spun, but my heart raced with excitement. Maxwell was already muttering his schedule to himself, trying to memorize everything.
Then she rang a bell. A man appeared immediately. She instructed him to take us to our dorms. As per college policy, we only brought clothes with us, so both Maxwell and I had one suitcase each.
The man led us through the campus. My eyes widened at the sheer size — the sprawling stone buildings, twisting paths, and towering trees gave the campus a timeless, almost ancient vibe. A slight chill brushed against my skin, though the sun was warm. I shook my head. *Probably just nerves,* I told myself.
Finally, the man stopped in front of a building. "This is the boys' dormitory," he said to Maxwell. "You should go inside."
Maxwell hugged me tightly. "We'll meet soon," he said, his voice trembling slightly. I patted his back. I knew he would cry the moment I turned. Then he disappeared inside.
The man then pointed to the other building. "Girls' dormitory." I thanked him, but before I could ask his name, he was gone. He hadn't smiled once — strange, but maybe I was overthinking.
I stepped inside the girls' dormitory and immediately noticed a stern woman behind the receptionist desk. She scanned me from head to toe, judging everything.
"Excuse me," I said politely, "where is room 150?"
"Second floor," she replied curtly.
I climbed the stairs — no lifts, of course, because this was an old building. The corridor was quiet; perhaps most students were in class. A faint draft made the air feel cooler than it should, and I shivered slightly.
I reached the second floor and found my room. I inserted the key the administrator had given me — oh, I hadn't asked her name either — and stepped inside.
The room was wonderful. Sunlight streamed through tall windows, the walls painted a warm cream, the furniture neatly arranged. It smelled faintly of lavender, and for the first time that day, I felt at home.
But as I unpacked, I couldn't shake the feeling that something about this college… was different. Something in the shadows, the silence, or maybe just the air itself, seemed to be watching.
I shook my head, telling myself it was only nerves. Still… a tiny, inexplicable part of me couldn't stop glancing toward the windows, wondering if someone was out there, watching.