I always believed that college life would be bright, colorful, and full of freedom. But the moment I stepped through the tall iron gates of Orion College, I realized something:
freedom is scary when you finally have it.
The campus looked huge—almost like a city by itself. Students rushed past me, laughing, arguing, talking loudly on their phones. I stood there with my old backpack, clutching my admission papers like they were a shield that could protect me from the unknown.
"New guy?" someone asked.
I turned to see a tall boy leaning against a pillar, staring at me with a strange smile. I nodded nervously.
"Welcome to hell," he said, walking away like he had just delivered a prophecy.
That was the moment my stomach dropped.
Inside the main building, everything felt confusing. Rooms everywhere, seniors shouting instructions, friends hugging each other, lecturers giving long speeches I couldn't hear over the noise in my own head. I didn't know where to go, whom to ask, whom to trust.
That's when the first scary thing happened.
A group of seniors blocked my way in the corridor.
"Name?" one of them asked.
I told them.
"Good," he said. "From today, you will call me Sir. And you will call him"—he pointed to another senior—"Boss."
They were smiling, but their eyes weren't.
My hands shook.
"Relax," one of them said. "We're just… welcoming you."
But it didn't feel like a welcome.
It felt like the beginning of something I wasn't ready for.
That night, in my hostel room, I sat on my bed and stared at the ceiling fan.
The campus outside was loud, but inside me everything felt quiet, too quiet.
I thought:
Is this what my new life is going to be?
Scary?
Lonely?
Or maybe… a test?
I didn't know then that these college days—these terrifying first weeks—would change me forever.
I didn't know that I would meet people who would break me and people who would save me.
I didn't know that love was waiting for me too, hiding behind a library shelf.
All I knew was this:
I had survived Day One.
Barely.