Studying Abroad

She simply couldn’t believe her eyes. It was one of the biggest cities in the world and there she was: ready to spend that entire year there, ready to begin the most exciting part of her life. Overwhelmed by such beauty and dazzled by what she had always dreamed of, she felt the adrenaline of being ready to begin. Everything was really hectic… after all, she had only been there for half an hour, seeing it all from the best seat in the house: that of the yellow cab that had picked her up at the airport and that was the single, most stereotypical institution in that city, a landmark by itself and in its own right.
Her plans were oh-so-many that she was unable to decide. Impulse being out of the question, she struggled with such a momentous decision, but soon the pace of the world outside her cab (by now it was hers and belonged to no one else) made her turn her attention to the sheer majesty of the city she had so eagerly longed to visit.
The cab driver, with nothing else in mind but ripping her off, decided to take this (obviously-a-tourist-since-she’s-pressed-against-the-window) little girl through Times Square knowing that it was the busiest time of the day, knowing that he would make a fortune only by standing at those never-ending red lights and driving along those crowded streets with thousands of yellow cabs just like his and with those irreparably stupid tourists that decide that the best place to stop and take that super cool picture of the whole thing is (why not?) the middle of the street. What is there to photograph anyways!? She knew. Of course she knew! She had been thinking about this day and place since she first saw all those tall buildings in a picture and realized that there was a good reason why so many films had been shot in that city. As they drove by, the driver was pleased to see that she didn’t care much about the meter and that each of those silly shiny signs was taking her breath away, giving it back to her only to have it taken away by the next one. My God, people are assholes! How can they get so high just by looking at a ridiculous billboard? After 17 years of having lived there, he had never considered a single one of those signs to be worth noting…
But let’s go back to her because she was delighted and she couldn’t hide it, because every inch of her body was feeling the greatness of knowing that she was at the right place at the right time and nothing could possibly bring her down: this was the best moment of her life, the single memory she would treasure for all eternity and nobody would be able to ruin that for her.
So, after the most thrilling taxi ride ever, she finally got to what she would call home for next year. She was about to live in the trendiest place ever and, let’s face it, the neighbourhood where everybody wanted to live: the Village. She took her luggage upstairs and took a quick look at her hip yet bohemian studio. It was perfect, just perfect. Things couldn’t be better and, oh yes, they could! It’s only 6:50 here so we even have time for a walk. Is there anything more perfect than this? The weird thing is that I just can’t believe it. Could it be too much? Gosh, if only my friends could see me here! Who would’ve thought?
So she left to take a walk. She was delirious with joy and so excited that she didn’t think of locking the door, though the apartment was most positively safe since the building was so neat and it even had a doorman and everything. Well, who cares? she thought when she remembered, already on her way to the subway (which was the one thing she’d been dying to get on - after the yellow cab, of course).
This city was amazing, everywhere she looked she saw things of such greatness that her mind was going nuts trying to grasp it all, going from this to that and back again to the chinese guy on that corner and forward to the red street signs or to the beautiful buildings. Until she got to the station and went down the stairs, looking at everyone around her, trying to tell if they were real New Yorkers or another tourist just like her, getting delighted at the absolute beauty of the most insignificant things.
Once she was downstairs and had submerged in the rush of the atmosphere, she stopped to take a long close look at the map, not caring about looking like a tourist because she had nothing to be afraid: carrying only the couple of bucks she had brought for the subway ticket and the receipt for the sandwich she had bought at the airport, should anyone rob her, they would be extremely disappointed and she could always ask for directions and walk back home. Anyways, after carefully examining the map and deciding on a plan, she got on the 1 train going uptown and she was marvelled. We can’t say here that it was the best subway train she’d been on, (that would be a serious offense) though we can certainly say that it was the best subway ride she’d ever had. Unfortunately, it was only a couple of stops before she had to get off, though it was only to discover something greater than seeing all those people probably going back home: seeing herself walking down the streets she had always dreamed about, those streets where she had pictured herself uncountable times and where she thought the most wonderful things could happen. This was nothing like she had imagined, it was so much better, so much more.
The mesmerizing effect of everything in that place had the strangest effect on her and she was uncapable of focusing on whatever thing she felt like paying attention to. So many people, so many signs, so many things she could learn about and so many cars around her.
By the time she realized what was going on, it was too late. All the other cars had managed to dodge that weird girl standing in the middle of the street. Though he never meant for it to happen, the driver of that Jeep (fighting with his girlfriend over wether or not he had cheated on her) was paying more attention to proving he was innocent than to what was happening outside. By the time he realized what was going on, it was (once again) too late. The car smashed the girl all the way to the other side of the street, where she lay for a second (thinking about the irony of life) before she died.
Somebody call 911! Call an ambulance! She’s hurt, bring a doctor! But then it was too late. For the third time in that day, it was too late.
The paramedics got there, D.O.A. and the C.S.I. unit’s been called. They search her pockets and all they find is a couple of bucks and a receipt for a sandwich at La Guardia, giving no clues on who the girl was.
It’s been 2 months at the morgue and Jane Doe has not had any visits. Poor girl, and, yet, you still look happy.