ARIELLE

Chapter2

Halebridge gave me a grand welcome…the ones you get from movies about kingdoms and knights.

As I turned off the highway, the structure suddenly came into view, its Gothic towers reaching toward the sky like something from a medieval film. The stone it was made of had a yellowish hue, like old teeth, and vines clung to the walls with a persistence that suggested they were there to stay. Its architecture was clearly designed to make visitors feel small, and it succeeded in doing so.

I gripped the steering wheel tighter as I navigated the campus entrance, trying to make sense of the signs that didn't seem to make much sense to me. I was relying on intuition and a dash of panic to guide me, since my GPS decided to stop working about ten miles back. It was as though nature was reminding me that nothing was completely reliable, even technology. So, I was left to follow directions from people I met along the way, people I wasn’t entirely sure knew what they were talking about. I also had a digital map of the campus that I downloaded from the school’s website, but it wasn’t much help.

In summary, I was about to get lost, and it was starting to show.

But I didn't pull over. Instead, I did what I had gotten very good at doing: I kept moving forward under the pretense that I knew where I was going.

As I drove further in, the main campus spread out around me like a living thing. Students were scattered across the quad in small groups, some looking like they fit right in, while others seemed amazed to be there. The buildings were a mix of old and new styles, with modern dorms standing out next to Victorian-era structures that seemed to hum with energy. A chapel with a bell tower caught my eye, and I also spotted a huge library building that was so big it probably had its own air system. But above everything else, a tower stood out — one that I didn't recognize. It was darker and more serious-looking than the other buildings, with windows that appeared to have been sealed shut for years.

I made a mental note of this, though I wasn't exactly sure why.

The parking lot for residential dorms was exactly as chaotic as I'd expected from reading college stories. Parents were lugging boxes around, and kids who looked about twelve but were apparently college students were wandering everywhere. Someone had even abandoned a minivan in a no-parking spot. It was like watching controlled chaos, except this didn't feel very controlled.

After circling the parking lot for what felt like hours, I finally found a legitimate parking space. I sat there for a moment, hands on the wheel, wondering if I was really ready for this. I thought about just backing out and spending the next four years at community college back home.

That still counted as getting an education, after all. But the thought of turning back wasn't very appealing. I had driven hours away from my mom to start this new chapter, and I wasn't about to let a little fear hold me back. So, I took a deep breath, gathered my courage, and turned off the engine. I got out of the car, ready to face whatever came next.

The fall air hit me before my feet even touched the ground, and it smelled like trees, earth, and something sweet, maybe a campus flower. I'd never been much of a nature person; I had a plant back home that died despite my best efforts to keep it alive. But there was something about this time of year on a college campus that felt special. It was like the universe was saying,

"I made this nice for you, so try not to mess it up."

Next, I needed to move my stuff to my room. I took a moment to look at all my belongings, my whole life packed into a duffel bag, a cardboard box, and a used plastic bin from Target that was already struggling under the weight of my books. It was a strange feeling, having my whole life condensed into such a small space — it felt like both too much and not enough at the same time.

I picked up the smallest bag and started walking back to the residential buildings. My dorm, East Hall, was supposedly somewhere in the northeastern part of campus — a name that sounded kind of cliché, like something out of a Harry Potter movie. According to the map, it should take about fifteen minutes to get there on foot. Hopefully, it wouldn't take me an hour to find it.

As I walked, I noticed other students doing the same thing — lugging their stuff while looking like they were trying to navigate a mix of emotions. They were all trying to figure out their place in the world, or at least on campus, and it was reassuring to see that I wasn't the only one feeling a bit overwhelmed. I caught a glimpse of a girl who looked my age struggling to carry a full-length mirror, and her creative swearing made me almost smile.

The other layers of the campus were revealed to me as I went on. The Gothic architecture was beautiful, but in an unsettling way, when seen up close. Every building looked like it had been built with a purpose, even the ones that seemed random. It was as if the architecture was reflecting the feeling of being caught between your old and new self, and the disorientation that came with it.

I slowed down as I passed the chapel, which was genuinely stunning. The stone work was intricate, looking like it had been carved by hand over centuries. Next to it was a cemetery with tombstones dating back to the 1900s, a reminder of people who had lived and died on campus, probably never leaving.

The irony wasn’t lost on me.

The more I looked around, the more I noticed the university as a whole. The old buildings, the careful architecture, and how the newer dorms were positioned to respect the older structures rather than replacing them. It all suggested a deep history and a kind of institutional memory. This was a place that didn't just exist from day to day, but accumulated meaning over time.

I found that particularly funny because I had spent the last few hours trying to escape a place with too much history, where it felt like the walls were crushing in on me. Now, I was voluntarily walking towards even more of it.