Creative Nonfiction: My First Morning Walk in a New City

I have just moved into my new apartment close to my new work environment. I spend most of my time arranging things while talking on the phone with mum, showing how excited I am about my new place.

I have never been in this part of my country before, over 8 hours away from home, but I am excited for the experience I will get by the end of my work year in this new environment. I get off the call with mum and begin cleaning up my tiny, cool room.

It's morning. Everywhere feels way colder than I expect because last night was very hot. Maybe it's because I am getting ready for work too early, but I don't mind. I am way too excited to sleep more, and I can't wait to start playing my job role.

I step out of the house, all dressed up as a beautiful and kind teacher, facing the cold weather with an umbrella in my bag in case it rains. A few neighbours are up too. They are so kind and happy to have me around from their greetings.

I'm outside the neighborhood, about to take a long, quiet, and almost lonely road to my workplace, but I am too excited to worry about if it's safe or not. I think I will find more people on the way and the long walk will get fun and exciting.

Halfway into my walk, the excitement begins to fade. Someone is following me!

I intentionally turn a few corners and a guy keeps coming towards me in the same directions. I feel too scared to turn back so I can see his face. I don't even know anybody in this new community, and I fear that I will trigger him when I turn.

I keep walking towards the new school where I will be a teacher for a whole year, with wobbly legs, a fast-beating heart, and heavy breaths as I begin to walk faster than I planned for an early morning walk. The more my steps increase, his steps increase too. I am so sure he is after me.

Just one more corner before I get inside the school, I begin to think if it is all in my head because the so-called guy just keeps following me and does not say a word or do anything to actually scare me. I turn to see his face with all the courage I have left. He is a few steps away.

I see a shirtless, middle-aged tall man walking with his eyes almost closed. He is staggering a little, holding a cigarette, and there is a gin bottle hanging from his armpit. He is drunk so early in the morning. I feel a little relief at the sight.

I look around to see if there are other people walking on the road, especially students going to the school I am on my way to. There is only one older woman coming from a far distance in my direction. It occurs to me that maybe I really left the house earlier than I should have.

The drunk man takes a turn into a small house by the road and sits on the floor, very unstable, and begins shouting out a song that I can hear from where I am. I begin to laugh at his voice as I continue my walk to the school.

I'm in the school environment, a big building and a small one beside it. The gates are open, but I have not yet seen anyone around. The buildings are not opened yet. I walk around the school to at least find the one who opened the gate, and I see her. She introduces herself with a calm smile.

She is busy cleaning up the place while waiting for the students to arrive. I ask if I came too early, and she says yes with a laugh that signals to me that I really did too much in my excitement to start at my new workplace as a teacher.

The school closes, and I am on my way back home. There are people, including students, everywhere on the road. I did not imagine the road could get that busy, but it is another realization that I will go late the next day, intentionally, for safety purposes. I am yet to make new friends anyway.

As I retire to bed at night, I think back to the events of the day and keep laughing at myself.