Well, that’s the end of my carefree life, where I didn’t have a single worry and could spend whole days having fun with my friends. Okay, maybe not entirely. Sure, the college entrance exams were tough and frayed our nerves and moods, but that’s all behind me now. Tomorrow, a new, grown-up life awaits—one where my parents won’t be there to help if something unexpected happens. From now on, everything depends on me, and I’m a little scared of what the future holds. But, as always, curiosity wins out over fear. What will college life be like? How’s it going to feel living in a dorm? And will my classmates accept me into their not-yet-tight-knit family?
With these thoughts swirling in my head, I’m packing my bags on my eighteenth birthday while simultaneously fielding birthday wishes from relatives, friends, and acquaintances, constantly answering calls and replying to messages in group chats. You might wonder why I’m not celebrating. Well, it’s Wednesday today, tomorrow I have to move into the infamous dorm, and classes start on Friday. So, I don’t really have a choice. Plus, I need to head out tonight because I’ve got a twelve-hour train ride ahead of me.
Why did I choose a university so far from home? Honestly, I can’t quite figure it out myself. When my friends and I were submitting my applications, four out of five mysteriously got canceled at the last minute, and the final one—almost by accident—ended up being sent to a completely unfamiliar university in Kyiv. And now, that’s where I’m headed to study.
Still, I’m not complaining. I managed to get accepted into the philology program at KHU (Kyiv Humanities University), which is one of the best schools out there. It’s a bummer that even from the dorm, it’s a thirty-minute commute to campus. But there’s a silver lining—part of the journey involves taking the subway over the Dnipro River, and the views that open up before your eyes are absolutely stunning.
Once I finished packing, I stood there with two rolling suitcases and one huge duffel bag. On my back was a backpack stuffed to the brim, and over all of that, I had a small purse slung across my shoulder. Now, I definitely looked like a college student. And when I stepped out of the house, dragging all this stuff behind me, I felt even more like one. Unfortunately, neither my parents nor my friends could help me out. Some were tied up with work crises, while others had already left for their own colleges a few days ago.
I called a cab and headed to the train station, not even daring to imagine how I’d manage to haul all this luggage onto the train, and later through the subway, where there’s barely enough space as it is. Oh well, I’ll figure it out somehow. I paid the driver and shuffled toward the ticket counter, constantly tripping over one of my suitcases, to print my train ticket. The train was set to depart in just thirty minutes.
Finally, after twenty-five minutes of waiting in line, I reached the cashier, got my long-awaited ticket, and squeezed into my train compartment with all my countless bags. I must have snagged my backpack on everything possible at least twenty times, and it felt like mission impossible was finally complete. After shoving all my suitcases under my seat, I was able to sit down and catch my breath. But my plans for a moment of peace clearly didn’t matter to the young couple and their little daughter who were sharing the compartment with me. Don’t get me wrong—I love kids. But in a situation like this, that affection kind of takes a backseat.