BOUND TO KILL MY MATE

WHERE I BELONG

SOFIA

We got to the bursary and met a woman who looked like she was in her early forties. She had a composed look about her, the kind that made you feel like she’d seen countless nervous faces walk into this room before mine. Her hair was neatly packed back, and her eyes were sharp but not unkind. After exchanging brief greetings, Mum and I took our seats across from her desk. The chair felt colder than I expected, and I shifted slightly, trying to calm my nerves.

The woman reached for a thick book that looked like a register, its edges worn and pages yellowed with age. She opened it carefully, then placed her glasses on the table before sliding them onto her face. The room fell quiet, the silence stretching as she flipped through a few pages.

“Name?” she asked without looking up.

“Sofia Garfield,” I replied softly, my voice sounding smaller than I felt inside.

“Age?”

“Eighteen,” I answered, sitting up straighter.

She paused for a second, then muttered something under her breath. “Gift.” I heard it clearly, and my heart skipped, though I pretended not to notice. Her pen scratched against the paper as she scribbled something in the book, her expression unreadable.

“Welcome,” she finally said, closing the register and standing up slightly to shake my hand.

“Thanks,” I replied, returning the gesture. Her grip was firm, reassuring in a strange way. She nodded once, as if confirming something only she could see.

“You’re going to very much enjoy the Diamond Hostel,” she said, already reaching for the phone on her desk. She dialed a number quickly and spoke in low tones. Moments later, the door opened, and a girl about my age stepped in. She looked confident, relaxed, like this place was already her home.

“Take her to Diamond Hostel,” the woman instructed calmly.

“Okay, ma’am,” the girl replied with a polite nod. She turned to me and motioned with her hand for me to follow. Before leaving, I turned to Mum and wrapped my arms around her in a tight hug. She held me close for a moment, then gently slipped an anklet into my hand.

“Keep this,” she whispered.

I held it dearly, my fingers curling around the cool metal as if it could anchor me. With one last look at her, I followed the girl out of the office.

As we walked down the hallway, the girl glanced at me sideways. “Such a unique figure you’ve got there,” she said casually, almost like she was trying to start a conversation.

“I know,” I snapped rudely, the words leaving my mouth before I could stop them.

She blinked but didn’t take offense. “Okay… so why are you angry?” she asked, choosing her words carefully.

“I left my family,” I replied shortly.

She nodded slowly, then pointed down another corridor.

“That’s your room,” she said and walked away, clearly deciding not to push the topic further.

I shrugged and stepped inside. The room was spacious, far more than I had expected. The walls were painted a soft neutral color, the bed neatly made, and sunlight streamed in through a large window. For a moment, I stood there, surprised. It looked nicer than I had imagined, nicer than it had any right to be, considering how unwilling I was to be here.

I dropped my bag on the bed and began arranging my dresses into the closet. The simple act of unpacking felt strangely final. When I was done, I sat down on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor. Boredom settled in quickly, heavy and uncomfortable.

Thanks to this darn Institute, I wouldn’t have access to my phone, let alone social media. The realization hit me all over again. No messages, no calls, no scrolling mindlessly to distract myself. How was I supposed to communicate with my family?

I hadn’t even thought to ask Mum before leaving. I reached for the anklet she’d given me and held it up, letting it rest in my palm. I caressed it gently, tracing its shape as if it could somehow carry her presence with it.

A few minutes later, the silence became unbearable.

When I got tired of sitting in my new room, I freshened up in the bathroom. The water was cool against my skin, washing away some of the lingering tension. I changed into a purple gown and black flip-flops, then tied my hair into a neat bun. Looking at my reflection, I barely recognized the girl staring back at me. She looked calmer, but the storm inside was far from settled.

My stomach rumbled loudly, the sound echoing slightly in the quiet room. I groaned softly. I was hungry—really hungry. I barely ate this morning because of the persistent headache that had refused to let me enjoy anything. Speaking of the headache, I suddenly realized something strange. From the moment I stepped into this building, the ache had disappeared. No throbbing, no pressure. Nothing.

I frowned slightly. I guess that meant I belonged here. The thought unsettled me more than it comforted me.

Another loud rumble from my stomach dragged me back to reality. I needed to eat, or I might actually pass out. I sat up, ready to head out, then froze as another thought hit me.

I had no cash.

The realization drained me instantly, and I collapsed weakly onto my bed, staring at the ceiling. I couldn’t believe this was happening. How was I supposed to get something to eat in a place I barely understood, with no money and no orientation?

After much thought, I decided to take a walk around the institute. Sitting here feeling sorry for myself wasn’t going to help. Besides, I wasn’t properly oriented yet, and maybe I’d stumble upon a cafeteria or something. I checked myself in my pocket mirror, adjusted my gown, and plastered a satisfactory smile on my face.

I breathed out slowly and stepped out, closing the door gently behind me.

I must say, this institute is large massive, even. The buildings stretched endlessly, connected by wide walkways and open spaces. I had walked what felt like miles from my hostel and was already tired. My legs ached slightly, and my flip-flops slapped softly against the pavement with each step.

I guessed I hadn’t yet come across where I could grab lunch. My pride also got the best of me because, even after seeing several students pass by, I never stopped to ask for directions. Everyone seemed to know exactly where they were going, moving with purpose, and I didn’t want to look lost on my first day.

This place was lively, buzzing with energy. Laughter echoed from different corners, and I could see students gathered in groups, talking animatedly. As I turned a corner, I noticed a pool area ahead. Some people were swimming, others lounging by the water, and a few were… making out.

“Yuck,” I muttered, rolling my eyes in irritation. I inhaled deeply, deciding I’d seen enough, and turned around to leave.

That was when I bumped into someone.