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My stomach had been in knots since I heard, I’ve always been the kind of person who lived vicariously through her imaginations that are braver than her. In real life I would never dare to go anywhere outside my comfort zone. I suppose that is the reason I connected so well with that one story in the kaleidoscope, “the secret life of Walter Mitty”. I was due to leave for University in the next month, new city, new province and a different life. I didn't have any choice, it was the only university to accept my application, whilst all of my safety schools had rejected me, all of which were just a local taxi away from the comfort of my home. Pretoria wasn’t as chaotic as Johannesburg but it was no Lebowakgomo either, even its Kasi’s aren't as laid back or as quite. By the time I left I was a mess, I had lost my mother months before and my family was falling apart, all adding to the stress of it all. I wished I could at least take a gap year but “the Bopape’s always strike when the iron is hot.”, so asking my family was completely out of the question. “Congratulations, you have passed the interview. You may go pay the registration fee, register and start classes tomorrow.” The admin lady said as I fought to fake a smile. I had missed the original interviews and orientation but my provisional acceptance letter and good grades had gotten me a late entry. I had only been here for two days and always with her in her car but she was now at work, I hesitated calling her since she left early that morning in a panic about some urgent meeting. Stepping off the large quantum, I made my way sheepishly through the busy streets, my head whipping around for an ABSA ATM. Everyone I passed had some level of confidence about them, like this was just another boring Monday, and probably was while to me it felt like I was walking the streets naked. I hated being an introvert in these moments. “Splaaaat!”, from the corner of my eye I could see a plate fall, spilling what looks like food. It only looked like food because it was all rotten and unappetizing. In my panic to find a bank, I had just crushed into a nyaope-boy (drug addict hobo), although as I take in the distance between us and how we crashed, I began to wonder if we really did or he just faked it. I didn’t have a chance longer to think of it before he starts screaming, cursing me for spilling his food. But his overreaction confirms that I was right, “give me money to replace it.” He bites out. The crowd just flows past us as if nothing is happening, as my eyes searches for help in the blank faces, I find two officers in the next corner street and although they are too far to see us, their presence somehow fill me with some level of confidence. The nyaope-boy still searched my face for any reaction, but without saying a word, I walk off. Not hurry off, not running, just walk off as if to say “Fuck-off”. And my fake confidence work as I hear an exasperated “Mxm..” behind me followed by “Ftshek!” but I don't react. I am still enjoying my little victory when I am suddenly aware that, in my little act of bravery I had turned the street toward the officers which was wrong apparently because now I was four blocks off Prinsloo and deep into a sketchy residential area away from CBD. I had escaped one nyaope-boy only to walk into an area full of them, some even still sleeping. I had no choice, she would have to forgive me. A few rings while I stood frozen in place, my hand clutching my purse, relief washes over me “Hey. How did it go?”, “I am lost.” Her light chuckle relaxes me even more. I am soon rescued but I hope I never have to do this again, but considering why I am here in the first place, I doubt it.