Fresher Flu was written by Lucy Dedman (Fresher 2022) for Sancta students’ own monthly publication, Sophia’s Laundry (Volume 15, March 2023).
The girl pressed her head up against the window, her breath forming clouds of condensation. Her Father watched for roos’ on either side of the road, constantly scanning in apprehension. Her Mother hummed a college tune she once loved, thinking of the days and never-ending nights yet to come for her daughter. Although she often left before the sun rose for boarding school, this time felt different. She felt shrouded by the land, protected by its continuity. She had known this place all her life. She hoped she would still feel this connection, 600 km from home.
The sun had not yet risen.
It is said that some people in her small town will never want to step over the levee bank. Leave for good. Most are happy in the haven of the community. As they drove over the levee bank, her mother squeezed her hand. She never wanted to be like those people and couldn’t comprehend how their curiosity didn’t drive them insane.
They travelled through the small town of Nevertire. A village, perhaps. A village in which you can run around all day and ‘Never-tire’ – her father’s favourite line after a seven-hour car trip, arguing with her siblings to decide who would open the gate when they got home.
She watched as the buildings wisped past in a blur. She noticed the paint flaking on the side walls of the Pub, it seemed tired of arguing with the elements. The Pub that had held many nights of drunken singing and laughter. Its attendees dancing and twirling the night away, awaiting the rude shock of the 6 am wake for work. The old Nevertire School stood proud. A place where she had lived with her best mates, employed as cotton irrigators for the Summer.
The best Summer.
The girl in the back felt downhearted to be leaving but eager for the days to come. She often confused her excitement for nerves and the pit of her stomach started to flip. They continued to travel East, leaving her everything to the West.
The sun had begun to rise.
It was a rude shock. Arriving in Sydney. An all-girls college environment. She had thought of every possible outcome, as she always has done. But the move-in day wasn’t as she expected. Usually, she wouldn’t cry when she said goodbye to her parents after holidays at home, but this time she sobbed.
She usually dealt with change well. Well, this must have been a different kind of change.
It was raining, the day she moved in. And it continued to rain for weeks upon end. She felt removed from the world she had become a part of. The stares in the hallways met with an unreturned smile. The smiling in group pictures with people standing next to her leaning away. Her questions in conversations that hung in the air, unanswered. She began to overly overthink, noticing every detail. She told herself that it was overwhelming for every girl.
It was a different kind of rain to home. And it continued to rain for weeks upon end. A kind homeless man waited for everyone to get on the bus before him, he stood too close to the girl and immediately apologised, taking a step back. A woman whispered to her, ‘Oh, thank god for that.’ The girl had a questioned look on her face. He was so easily judged.
She was an outsider that was eager to make connections. Instead, she felt distantly connected. Dis connected. It eventually stopped raining. She began to look for connections. For kindness
A kind man shared his umbrella in the rain for the girl, and another man riding a Deliveroo bike screamed lyrics at the top of his lungs as he rode down the road. An Italian Uber driver told the girl that her life ahead was full of opportunities. Another colleges staff played the ukulele outside the kitchen, she shared a smile with a boy in passing as they watched the staff’s lines crease into smiles and laughter.
They say that’s the change in stepping out of your comfort zone, you question your decisions, your movements, and your ideas. Yourself. It’s a different kind of fresher flu – the longing for home. The longing for the comfort of home. The comfort of the comfort zone.
You never change your life, until you step out of your comfort zone. Change begins at the end of the zone and the further you leave it. The better you will be.
The sun had risen. In being uncomfortable, we become the most comfortable we can be.