I wear seven rings on my right hand. Each represents a story, something, or someone who influenced me in a way I never want to forget. These rings represent my past, but I know they will also decorate my future. Some of my most important circlets are on my index finger. That finger holds three rings total. One band has a wave pattern in the middle of it, within the waves were small onyx crystals, but those too have now faded to nothing more than a memory. Surrounding it are two plain silver bands, just buffed enough you can't see your reflection. They still however, shine brightly. I remember the bright lights, blinding as I stepped out of the room that held both my unwavering anxiety and me. My maroon blazer weighed down on my shoulders.
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So many broken down relics, back alleys, and buildings sagging with age passed us by. I wondered what I had gotten myself into. We entered Carrara, there, on the small underpass was a mirror, shot by a gun, cracked, just like all my hopes that I would survive the year. We parked the car under an overshadowing steel construction beam, and got out onto the slim marble sidewalk. We walked what I now know is a block and a half to the apartment I was staying in for the next twelve months. The big, wooden, antique door loomed at least 3 times my size above me. The signora unlocked it, and it began to squeak, and make the noises only heard from mechanics moving something very heavy. We stepped inside. From there out it was pretty simple. For the next hour or two I had to put my stuff away. I was led to my bedroom, the bed had a headboard checkered in a way that reminded me of a classic picnic blanket. There was a glass table, three drawers and a small side boxy looking thing with two by two cubbies that served as a nightstand. When I went to put my shoes away I had no idea where to, so I just start lining them up next to the bed. Signora quickly disposed of that idea, leading me to a balcony with a closet at the end, with shelves. That was were my shoes went she told me, and that was where they
So many broken down relics, back alleys, and buildings sagging with age passed us by. I wondered what I had gotten myself into. We entered Carrara, there, on the small underpass was a mirror, shot by a gun, cracked, just like all my hopes that I would survive the year. We parked the car under an overshadowing steel construction beam, and got out onto the slim marble sidewalk. We walked what I now know is a block and a half to the apartment I was staying in for the next twelve months. The big, wooden, antique door loomed at least 3 times my size above me. The signora unlocked it, and it began to squeak, and make the noises only heard from mechanics moving something very heavy. We stepped inside. From there out it was pretty simple. For the next hour or two I had to put my stuff away. I was led to my bedroom, the bed had a headboard checkered in a way that reminded me of a classic picnic blanket. There was a glass table, three drawers and a small side boxy looking thing with two by two cubbies that served as a nightstand. When I went to put my shoes away I had no idea where to, so I just start lining them up next to the bed. Signora quickly disposed of that idea, leading me to a balcony with a closet at the end, with shelves. That was were my shoes went she told me, and that was where they