Recklessly, Impossibly, Yet Beautifully You

1

    6:30 hits and my phone screams into my ear. I groan and turn over secretly praying that if I ignore the buzzing it will be 2am and I'll still have four hours of sleep left. Unfortunately my little prayer meant nothing because it's still 6:30 and the noise from my phone has not stopped bouncing around heavily in my ear drums.

    I decided to go to University in Brighton three years ago because of the amazing things that I've heard about their phycology department and since I've always wanted to live in Europe. I'll admit I wanted to go to Ireland much more, ever since I was 6 years old and I watched Irish dancers perform at my school to be exact. But Brighton certainly made the cut. It's the perfect middle of chaotic and calm, which I'd say is an accurate reflection of me in many different ways.

    "Shuttttt uppppppp," I mumble to my alarm. My arm reaches over and slaps the screen until that horrid sound subdues. I slowly crawl out of my bed like some sort of alien creature and complain a jumble of incomprehensible words and curses.

    Skip forward to 7:30 and I have on a cream top and my trusty green overalls. I finally got to wear the pant ones because fall is approaching much faster than I intended for it to. Breakfast today is what I like to call: Oh look there's still something in my fridge and it doesn't expire until tomorrow. I finished eating, grabbed my books, earbuds, backpack, and a scarf just in case. The door swings behind me and we're off.

    The route to university is scenic and more so on the calm side of Brighton. I catch glimpses of the beach, coffee shops, and my personal favorite, the music recording studio. On Friday mornings there's a band in the top right room, or what I call (the fancy window room with the stained glass on it) that plays what feels like heaven personally made for my ears. Today's Friday so I stop and sit with my back resting on a tree right outside of the studio. I hear a guy in the top right room say "Alright 1 2 ... 1234!" And then their magical sounds float out of the window for the lucky people outside to hear.

    I listen for a while and then stand up to resume my walk and I see one of the guys sitting on the windowsill with his back facing me. He has really nice hair I think to myself. Wait... what? Shut up Vanna now isn't the time to start a crush in the middle of your first semester of phycology. I shake my head as if my thoughts will pour out from my ears. I look up one last time at the man. He turned sideways from me and I watch his guitar pick fall from the window. The man stays looking away, completely oblivious that he's just dropped it. I run over and grab it. How the hell do I give this back to him? Whatever I'll keep it. What? No that's creepy don't keep it. Well... what if someone really bad gets it? I might as well hold onto it. I take a glimpse of the mans face one more time as I put the pick in my pocket and leave.