The New Girl!

(Write a story that feels lonely, despite being set in a packed city.)

The morning sounds that wake me are never the birds I read about in wonderful stories about nature but rather the traffic on the boulevard in front of the house.  Those unlucky people who have earlier jobs or school than I and are already on the job or on their way there, they create the humming sounds of tires on pavement and an occasional horn sounding some alert or annoyance.   

It is not an unpleasant sound really, but just a noise that becomes louder and more constant as the morning wears on and is so different from the relative silence of my mornings at home.  

I am always happy to be awake before the blaring noise of my alarm clock.   Reaching for it now I shut it off before it can perform its function.   

A quick shower and then trying for a leisurely breakfast, a way to delay before I must face the stress of this new journey.  The time will fly and then I will be hurrying to the bus stop,  my bag of books weighing me down,  my mind going over the list of assignments to be certain I completed them all.   The days are much the same,  same morning noises,  same routine,  same newspaper vendor on the corner.  

The bus is already near full when it stops at the corner.   Searching hard to find a seat and get settled,  a few are already standing, hanging on to the straps and rails provided to assist those standing.  I most always find a seat, settle in and try to blend into the crowd.  I  try hard not to examine my fellow passengers,  I really want to look at them,  they are so interesting compared to the folks back home.  They stir my imagination but I feel invaded when they look at me so I content myself with staring out the small section of window I can see.   

The bus ride is actually quite monotonous once I have found my place to sit and each stop brings new riders.  New riders mean the eyes are no longer on me as the new person to wonder about.  

The city slides by,  block after block,  getting shabbier and dirtier as we head east.   I remember in the beginning how actually shocked I was to see people sleeping in doorways or next to dumpsters.  Some were wrapped in plastic or cardboard and I wondered how one could be so down that they could not afford a room.  And even worse, to have no family or friends to take them in for the night.  

We are quickly through the worst part,  as there are few bus stops here, now the city becomes more vital,  more promising and then we are into the heart of downtown,  the money spent here on the city structure so apparent in contrast to the derelict neighborhoods that we have just driven through that border the heart of the city.  

I think back to when I first arrived here, a small town girl,  everything was new and foreign, strange to the point that it created fear in the pit of my stomach.  I was confused and afraid but now,  even though my journey each day covers such a small part of the city,  I begin to know this small part of it well.   Buses,  transfer points,  shopping areas and restaurants.   I believe I begin to look like a regular city girl not a frightened sparrow just out of the nest.   

Maybe if enough time passes and enough trips made I will acquire the bored slouch of those who grew up here.  I still feel that, behind my eyes,  an alert creature lurks watching for the type of events that make the news so often.  It is a lonely ride, knowing no one and being suspicious of everyone.  My great aunt and uncle who I live with are in their late seventies and have many horror stories to tell about how the unsuspecting are preyed upon by the unscrupulous.

Once I reach the final transfer point and on to the last leg of the morning ride,  the bus is now near empty and those left are students like myself.   The campus is on the lakefront,  in the lake really and I am pleased to be attending school here.   

I hurry  now as time has slipped by quickly,  I still have a few city blocks within the campus to walk to my building, my locker complex and then first class.   The lakefront here is amazing and It is hard not to stop.   I usually do, and then am often running at the end but I love to stop here and gaze at the huge lake,  it has such a different personality each morning.  There is so much to see and think about,  luckily a school acquaintance calling to me brings me back to real time and I must run now,  I sure do not want to be a straggler coming into class late,  all eyes turning to see me. 

The day will pass with classes and visiting with classmates, often eating lunch out on the benches with the sea gulls.  After my last class,  I hurry again as I need to begin the reverse journey.   

I don’t want to be a straggler, the busy crowd feels like protection in my mind.  The bus again,  the transfers,  I begin to recognize some of the people, the regulars on this route.  Some of the same  people as the morning but most looking tired or bored or crabby, after a long day of commuting and work of some sort.  

Again I avoid eye contact but glance at the interesting ones and make up stories in my mind about their lives.  I look at their clothing, the bags they carry and try to puzzle out the how and why of their lives.  It is an interesting pastime and before I realize the lapse of time, we are approaching my corner.   

This is always a nervous time for me, I don’t want to get up too soon but neither do I want to push and shove myself through bodies to get to the door.  Finally off the bus, I feel a great hurtle has been achieved.  Then I am alone again, walking the two blocks to our building.  

Very rarely, but I have done it a few times, I cut down the alley and go in the back way but that depends on who is loitering in the alley and what is going on.....I guess you get it.....I am not really a city girl yet.....or the alley would not scare me!