BRIANNA

2. NEW GIRL

BRIANNA'S POV

A new girl at school is not something I ever thought I would be. I've never changed schools before, and I was pretty sure I never would until a few weeks ago. Life has a funny way of surprising you when you least expect it.

Up until recently, my days were predictable, filled with familiar faces and routines I could navigate with my eyes closed. I never imagined leaving behind my old school, the place where I grew up, made friends, and created countless memories.

My old life feels like a distant memory, and the realization that I am starting from scratch is both exhilarating and terrifying.

Life is full of surprises. I never expected a lot of things to happen to me, but a lot has happened in the past few weeks, and by the looks of things, this is just the beginning.

The events that have unfolded recently have turned my world upside down, leaving me grappling with a whirlwind of emotions. From the moment I received the acceptance letter from Brooklyn International, it felt like a dream come true, a beacon of hope in a sea of uncertainty.

I finally got the scholarship for next year on top of the one I got to study at Brooklyn International. The moment I read the letter, a surge of relief washed over me, followed by a wave of exhilaration. This scholarship is not just a financial aid; it is a testament to my hard work and dedication, a golden ticket that opens doors to a future I have only dared to dream about. It's an affirmation that I am on the right path, but it also comes with immense pressure. The weight of expectations, both self-imposed and external, rests heavily on my shoulders.

The power to choose where I want to study next year is both liberating and daunting. It feels like standing at a crossroads, with multiple paths leading to different futures, each with its own set of possibilities and challenges. I am acutely aware that this decision will shape the course of my life, determining the opportunities I will have and the person I will become.

I know that this is the only way I can get where I want to be, and it's not like someone is here to stop me from achieving my goals and fulfilling my and my mother's dreams. The obstacles that have emerged along the way often feel like insurmountable barriers, but I have learned to face them head-on.

My mother's unwavering support and sacrifice have been the driving force behind my perseverance. She has been my rock, my guiding star, ever since my father passed away. Her dreams have become intertwined with mine, and I carry her hopes and aspirations with me wherever I go. The thought of failing her is unbearable, and it fuels my determination to succeed.

She has done a lot for me, and I will make sure that whatever her desires are, I fulfill all of them without any complaint, because I know she deserves that and more. Her tireless dedication to my well-being and success has been nothing short of extraordinary.

From late-night study sessions to countless sacrifices, my mother has always put my needs above her own. Her strength and selflessness inspire me every day, reminding me of the importance of perseverance and gratitude.

She has been dedicating her life to me ever since my father died, and it is about time I do the same for her. The memory of my father looms large in our lives, a constant reminder of the void his absence has left behind.

My mother stepped into the role of both parents with grace and strength, never letting the weight of her responsibilities break her spirit. Her resilience has been a guiding light, showing me the true meaning of love and sacrifice. Now, as I stand on the brink of a new beginning, I feel a profound sense of duty to honor her dedication.

My successes are not just mine; they are hers too. Every accolade, every opportunity I seize, is a testament to her unwavering faith in me. I owe it to her to make the most of the chances I've been given, to work tirelessly towards a future that will make her proud.

I know what people may say, I'm still young and I have to live my life, but it is difficult to ignore what my mother has gone through just for me. The voices of those who say I should be carefree, that I should focus on my youth and live for the moment, are hard to drown out. But they don't understand the depth of my gratitude, the extent of my resolve.

They haven't seen the sacrifices my mother has made, the sleepless nights, the endless work, all to ensure I have a brighter future. Living my life, to me, means living in a way that honors her efforts, that acknowledges the weight of her love and dedication. It means striving for excellence, not just for myself, but for the woman who has given up so much for me.

The scholarship doesn't cover accommodation, and my mother had to pay for that, but I'm here now, and I'm excited to be here. The financial strain this decision placed on us was palpable, yet my mother handled it with the same unwavering determination she has shown throughout my life.

She dipped into her savings, money she had set aside for emergencies, and perhaps even her dreams, to ensure I had a safe place to stay while pursuing my education. The weight of her sacrifice is not lost on me; it's a constant reminder of the stakes involved. Standing in my modest room, with its plain walls and simple furniture, I feel a mixture of gratitude and resolve. Every corner of this space, though sparse, feels imbued with my mother's love and hope for my future.

I am determined to make every penny count, to make the most of this opportunity, and to prove that her investment in me was worth it.

I can't wait to get to my new school. I can't help but wonder how people live here. Is it the same way we do in North Adams? I know people here are rich, and Brooklyn International is full of rich kids from rich families.

The anticipation of stepping into this new world is both thrilling and daunting. North Adams, with its quiet streets and close-knit community, feels worlds apart from the bustling, affluent environment of Brooklyn International.

Here, the students drive luxury cars, wear designer clothes, and discuss vacations in exotic locales with a nonchalance that underscores their privilege. It's a stark contrast to my own upbringing, where every dollar was carefully budgeted, and vacations were a rare and precious treat.

I wonder if the values here are as different as the lifestyle, and if I will be able to find my place among these peers who have grown up with so much more than I could ever dream of. But this is also an opportunity to learn, to grow, and to understand a world that, until now, has been out of my reach.

I'm not one of them, and I know it will be difficult to live among them. I've spent my whole life trying to avoid rich kids because I've seen how they treat people like us. The rich kids back in North Adams were a smaller group, but their impact was significant.

They moved through the halls with an air of entitlement, their wealth shielding them from the everyday struggles that the rest of us faced. Their parties, their clothes, their gadgets—all were constant reminders of a divide that felt insurmountable.

I remember how their offhand comments and casual dismissals could cut deeper than any outright insult. The fear of facing that kind of treatment again, but on a much larger scale, weighs heavily on my mind.

But I also know that avoidance is no longer an option.

Maybe not all of them, but most of them tend to think that we're not humans like them or that maybe we don't deserve to live in the same society as them. This kind of thinking is not just frustrating; it's dehumanizing. The subtle, and sometimes not so subtle, signals that we are lesser, that our struggles are irrelevant or that our aspirations are laughable, can wear down even the most resilient spirit.

There's a few of those where I'm from, and I have to say, I was so tired of them, but I think I'm going to have the same experience this year, only this time it is ten times worse than what I know. The thought of encountering the same elitist attitudes, but on a grander scale, is disheartening.

Yet, there is a part of me that hopes to find exceptions to this rule at Brooklyn International. Maybe, amidst the opulence and privilege, there are students who see beyond the superficial, who value character and ambition over wealth. I have to believe that there are individuals here who can empathize, who understand that money does not define worth.

I got ready for my first day at school, putting my school uniform on and packing everything I needed in my backpack. I made breakfast and left as soon as I finished eating.

I don't know what it's gonna be like, so I have to brace myself just so that I will be ready and avoid attracting any attention. The uncertainty of the first day at a new school is a heavy burden. I mentally prepare myself for the inevitable stares and whispers that follow a new student.

The goal is to navigate the day with as little disruption as possible, to blend into the background until I find my footing. But I also know that avoiding attention is easier said than done. My appearance, my demeanor, everything about me will mark me as an outsider.

The key is to remain composed, to project confidence even if I don't feel it. I take a deep breath, reminding myself that this is just the beginning, and first impressions, while important, are not the end-all and be-all.

I know it's going to be easy for people to notice me, but a girl can hope, right? Even though I've never been a new girl at school, I've seen how students look at newcomers. The inevitable curiosity of others is something I have to brace myself for. New students are always a topic of interest, their every move scrutinized by their peers.

I also wonder if I'll be able to make any friends here. I know it will be easy for them to notice that I'm not from here, but I hope they won't make life hard for me. The fear of isolation looms large, the prospect of facing these new challenges alone a daunting one.

Making friends in a place where I feel so out of place seems like an insurmountable task. Yet, I remind myself that true friendship transcends superficial differences. It is built on mutual respect, understanding, and shared experiences.

While I may be different in many ways, there are surely others who value authenticity and kindness over wealth and status. The hope of finding such kindred spirits keeps me going. I know that forming friendships will not be easy, that it will take time and effort to break through the barriers of preconception and prejudice.

But I am prepared to put in that effort, to seek out those who see the world as I do, and to build connections that are genuine and meaningful. In the end, it is these connections that will make my experience at Brooklyn International truly worthwhile, turning a daunting challenge into a rewarding journey.

The walk to school feels surreal, the anticipation building with each step. I try to absorb the sights and sounds of this new environment, hoping to find something familiar, something that will anchor me in this sea of newness.