Coƒƒee §wirls & Velvét Cake ƒor You*

She walked into the room, and looking around at the bare furniture, started putting down all the bags she was carrying. Her mother, also strapped with bags, walked in behind her and started unloading too. “Nice… at least you have a set of drawers this time, mish heik Susu?” Yes, that’s right Susu thought. And this time the dorm room was private; she didn’t have to share half a room with an obnoxious girl who went out every night. Her memories were interrupted by an unfamiliar sound; she stepped towards the one window of the room and crawled up onto the bed to peer down onto the busy highway which lay adjacent to the building eight floors below. Susu had never lived in the city before, and already the noise of passing cars and eighteen-wheelers was buzzing through her head, etching into her conscience reality.
Away from friends, family, and church, coming halfway across the world for schooling was advised against by her mentor back at home. Susu was faced with questions she had not thought of before; what should be valued more: education for a successful career or support from loved ones for a healthy emotional life? Living independently had not been a problem where she knew the streets, loved the culture, and enjoyed the very fact of living in her native country. Here, in the heart of the city, it was busy and heavily populated with bustling people of a different skin color which she had never been exposed to before at such a scale; and she learned quickly that all three of her roommates were African American too. Susu always felt uncomfortable being the odd one out, and now she felt too helpless and too overwhelmed to know how to handle it.
“Okay mamati, I’m going to have to head back before it gets dark. Call me if you need anything, okay Soos? I’ll check on you tomorrow habibé.” Her mother’s adoring and playful words were incomparable to the lingo Susu would have to get accustomed to here in downtown. She was very fluent in English but she couldn’t seem to speak right now. Please don’t go Susu begged, quite loudly it seemed, while she walked her only connection to home off the premises. Mum, unaware of her daughter’s desperate thoughts, left with a kiss on the cheek and a reassurance that it was all going to be fine.
Susu had not been prepared for the shock of it all. Her eyes darted around the homogenous room, until she finally decided the only thing she had the energy to do was walk inside and shut the door. Too shaken, she lay down on the bed and cried herself to sleep, even though right outside, the traffic whirred by and the bright lights of the city came in through the shades, and lined her face.

I know most of you who read this know who Susu is.. but this was written for my english class. my teacher believes i made this up. so i hope you read it as if you don't know anything about it all. see a different view. some things impact you so much, you can't forget.

Very nice cuz... I Have something similar that I'm going to post soon. 'Back to Lebanon.' Prose is fun!

That was really nice... that is all I can say.

just a by-the-way: the title was taken from a song called "bright lights" matchbox 20. it's for a lover who is leaving the singer behind for what seems like a better life, perhaps even celebrity. the last line of the chorus: "if the bright lights don't receive you, you should turn yourself around and come on home."

its wicked! and its wierd the torture one puts themselves through in search of themselves and in purpose of enlightenment stupid question: what did u decide? hehe jc