Creative Writing

Here at last I have planned this journey to Germany for years and finally I have been able to say all my goodbyes to everyone and packed my life into my daggy old brown suitcase with only a small amount of cash I begin my. Changing the path of my life in a completely different country is something some people are only ever able to dream of but for me it has become a reality. My only worry is that it will take time before I fit in, for the time being I'm an outsider. Nothing about me is the same as them. I look different, I talk different and I even act different. I know it's going to take a while to get used to, but I'm not sure if I can wait that long.

Walking through the streets I keep my head down and feet straight avoiding unnecessary contact with any other individual but I am not oblivious to the fact that these people are observing my every move like and eagle and their prey. Trying to sympathise and understand why I look up and half-heartedly smile only to be greeted with a flock of fingers flying right in my direction. At no timing in my planning did I prepare for this. "I just want to be back at home," I say to myself over and over again. It doesn't seem to help.

It seems like hours before I reach the motel. I see the enormous gold and red neon lighting that spells "MOTEL INN". Starting to feel nauseous just from looking at the hideous sign I decide to make my way inside. The interior is old-fashioned and smells like my grandma's home, finally some ease to this terrifying journey but the faint feeling of serenity doesn't last long at all because darkness quivers over me. It makes me wonder why I picked to stay in such unpleasant accommodation. I see the service desk, beginning to make my way to it, behind the counter emerges this gigantic man with skin as white as snow and hair as dark as the night sky, he looks like Dracula. Looking down at me Dracula suddenly starts mumbling a language of his own making it impossible to understand what he is saying. Closing my eyes I think to myself,

"Why did I choose to come here, what did I get myself into?"

The bizarre creature gives me the key to my room, but I don't go there. I can't comprehend the blast of emotions that will hit me once I open the door. I decide to venture around the creepy motel, "Be a tourist," I tell myself. "Maybe people won't stare at you."

For a while it works, I just dawdle looking at the beautiful monuments and architecture forgetting about what people are thinking of me. I am fully immersed in the history and excitement of this town. Without even realising a weight is lifted of my shoulders and I get that feeling I was waiting so long for, a feeling of acceptance. I feeling a bounce in my step I wonder around the historic motel wondering why I was so concerned with what people thought about