08:02 AM – Campus Gate

First days are supposed to feel exciting.
New faces, new walls, new notebooks with no lies in them yet.

But the only thing I felt was distance.
From the gate to the buildings.
From me to everyone else.

Groups clustered like puzzle pieces that had already found their match.
Everyone talking like they’d been born here.
Moving like the ground knew their names.

Me?

I walked alone.

With a backpack that bounced too much.
Shoes that squeaked on the wrong tiles.
And air in my lungs that felt too aware of itself.

_________________________________________________________

08:26 AM – Pathway near the student garden

That’s when I saw her.

She stood at the edge of the garden, facing a tree.
Like it was speaking and she didn’t want to interrupt.

Sweater too long, covering her hands.
Skirt made of something sheer and ridiculous.
Boots platformed, scuffed with something that looked like glitter and regret. 

Hair dyed violet, fading near the roots.
Eyes heavy-lidded, dreamy, but fixed on something I couldn’t see.

She pulled a tarot card from a cloth pouch, turned it in her fingers, then kissed it lightly before slipping it away.

Then she smiled.

Not at me.

At the sky.

And walked off like the wind had somewhere it needed her to be.

Bona... I’ve never met someone who looked more like a question I’d never dare to ask.

______________________________________________

08:44 AM – Lecture Hall 4B

Cold.
Always cold.

The kind of air-conditioned chill that feels intentional.
Like the room doesn’t want you comfortable enough to dream.

Students filed in.
Laptops clacked open.
A thousand tabs no one would ever click again.

I chose the middle.
Safe distance from attention, but not close enough to get forgotten.

The professor introduced himself with too much pride and too little warmth.
Then launched into the first slide like we were expected to already know what he meant.

The girl next to me had perfect eyeliner but didn’t write anything down.
Just scrolled on her phone, pretending to take notes.

Behind me, someone yawned audibly and didn’t apologize.

The screen flickered.
I stared at the bullet points but heard nothing.

My eyes drifted.

To the window.

To the hallway.

To the space between the lines.

Bona… the hardest part of being here isn’t the newness.
It’s the silence I have to hold in my mouth just to survive it.

______________________________________________________________

12:27 PM – Back entrance, cafeteria

The air smelled like tomato sauce and anxiety.

I found an empty seat by the wall.
Opened my notebook.
Pretended to review something.
Just to look busy.

Then I heard it.

Not loud.

But loud enough to be hers.

A laugh that cracked across the space like something made of gold and teeth.

I looked up.

She stood in the middle of the room like she owned the lease.
Braids wrapped into a high ponytail.
Hoop earrings that could slice.
Ripped jeans. Cropped black blazer. Red lipstick.

She tossed her phone from hand to hand like it was light, like she was bored.
Her nails were neon orange.
Her smile said she knew everyone — and none of them mattered.

When a guy said something near her, she tilted her head and laughed again.
Sharp. Deep.
Then turned away before he could finish his sentence.

She didn’t sit.

She strolled.
Then vanished.

Like fire that didn’t need to burn anything this time, just remind you it could.

Bona… she doesn’t walk, she carves.

Like every step is a line through a world that never told her no.

_______________________________________________________________________

03:38 PM – West corridor, outside admin office

The halls had emptied.
Only a few students moved like they were late for nothing.

That’s when I saw the third.

She walked alone.

Blazer sharp.
Skirt pencil-thin.
Hair in a twist so tight it looked like glass.

She carried a binder pressed flat to her chest.
Her eyes moved without moving.
Scanning everything.
Touching nothing.

She passed a group of guys laughing too loud.
Didn’t flinch.
Didn’t acknowledge.

But as she walked by me—
our eyes met.

Just once.

But that was enough.

She looked like someone who didn’t need to speak to be believed.

Someone who had already buried versions of herself and didn’t miss the graves.

____________________________________________________________

04:07 PM – Under a tree, outside library

I sat.
Notebook open.
Pen hovering.

No words came.

So I drew.

Three shapes.
Three shadows.
Three girls who didn’t know me, but who I couldn’t stop seeing.

One reads the sky like scripture.
One laughs like it’s a blade.
One moves like silence built a body.

And me?

I sit in their world.
But not part of it.
Not yet.

Maybe never.

But if they look back someday...

I hope they wonder who I was before I ever said anything out loud.