Work Text:
I chose my college in the same city I grew up in because, in all honesty, I didn't really want to leave my parents and move out. Which is why opening my eyes and finding myself in what I could only guess was a completely different world was both terrifying and aggravating. One of my teachers and, I suppose, mentors in this new world suggested I keep a diary or journal to document things and perhaps help me keep my thoughts and feelings in order. So here we go, I guess—welcome to attempt 1.
This sudden upheaval and change in my life started on a Monday morning. It was my first day of college, and having been feeling sick for the entirety of the previous week, I was far from excited for my day. A new school, new people, and the unfortunate reality of needing to adapt all over again to a new stage in my life. As the morning went by and I started getting ready, I also started feeling worse and worse. I was getting more and more nauseous, and the throbbing in my head became more and more persistent.
Like I said, however, it was the first day of college, and I refused to skip. My parents drove me to campus and dropped me outside the building, and I said bye and gave them both a kiss on the cheek. Looking back now, I can't help but regret I didn't say anything more than a rushed goodbye—no I love you or I'll see you in the evening. In all honesty, I have developed a superstition with regards to that word; it's become a symbol of finality, I suppose.
I crossed the road, and I was halfway across when I suddenly felt lightheaded and dizzy. I still remember my last thoughts—they were, in order: I hope I don't get hit by a car, this is going to hurt, and oh god, hopefully mum and dad don't see this...
Entry 2?
Honestly, I didn't even name my first entry Entry 1, so this feels ridiculous and not coherent, but at the same time, it's not like this is going to be published or anything. I have, incidentally, also decided to name my diary Catherine. Why, you may ask? Because Catherine feels old-timey and fantasy to me, which fits in with what I suppose will be the new theme of my life in the future. Plus, it feels less stupid to write Dear Catherine compared to Dear Diary. So here we go.
Dear Catherine,
When I came to from what I guess was a faint, I found myself in an infirmary. I knew this because, from where I was lying, I could see a desk diagonally in front of me with a sign saying Infirmary. It was a very cutesy sign, with dark blue words on a light pink wood background, and there was a vase of flowers on the desk. This is a bit of random information, but seeing as how I was just coming to from a faint, it was one of the few things I was processing as my brain rebooted.
I didn't really feel like moving, so I just lay there. But the longer I lay down, the more weird things I noticed. Such as the canopies—I think they're called—around the bed, the screen that looked like it was floating next to me, and what I can only describe as a tapestry on the fabric above my head. This did not look like a college infirmary...
Shortly after coming to this realization, I also realized that my headache, nausea—everything—had disappeared, and I was feeling pretty good???
Overall, everything sort of hit me at the same time, and like any normal person, I started feeling a little panicky. Luckily enough, this is when someone walked in...