Getting here was the netherworlds. Getting the visa she needed to jump though so many loops she was glad it was easy for her. That might make it easier for her. A log of elbows needed to be rubbed and palms needed to get greased,greedy Americans. But as hard as it was to get INTO the country legally getting a roof over her head was by far the hardest she ever has to face. Ever since 911 no one trusts someone from even CLOSE to where she's from. Egyptian by birth and scorned by the country she was sent to by her Uncle to "repopulate" yeah. So she's a broodmare......wonderful. Finally getting an apartment she looks around the smallish studio and notices instantly that the window above the bed is covered over so no light can come in. She also smells something like blood. Its old but its there. The land lord mentioned the last tenant went missing a couple months ago and that she was a crazy night owl. She shakes her head and sets her bag down, jet lag to the extreme. First thing she needs to settle down. She has a job at the museum. Next she starts college soon she isn't going to have much time to find anyone suitable. Standing up she walks up the stairs and grabs the covering ripping it off the windows and looks out to the busy street below. She sighs. Her home was so much quieter. Coming down the stairs she begins pulling out some of her cloths and little figurines from her homeland. She sets them up and looks around, “This place needs work,“ she whispers in American knowing she needs to start practicing that language more and more. She sits on the stairs yet again already feeling home sick. all there is in this apartment is the bed,apparently the last tenant broke all but the bed. Crazy American. All her life she's been with her tribe,and now she isn't,she really feels alone right now,that long plane right with all that accusing staring.

 She asked for water and would get the third degree and "maybe" get something to drink. She looks at her dusty brown shoes regular jeans and t-shirt. They were ordered to make sure she at least fit in and didn't get herself hurt. Brushing her hair behind her ear she lies back onto the stairs and looks up to the ceiling and just rests. She's tired. So very tired but she stands up and begins to explore the little space that would be her home. Raising an eyebrow she pulls out a dagger that looks as if it has been used a lot. “It’s beautiful,” she whispers and puts it near the stairs and continues searching until something else takes her attention.  

--Last edited by Hebony Harere on 2008-12-13 22:48:56 --