"Why did you come here?"
It was such a cliche moment. Looking at each other, the sun was acting as a spotlight, and there was a light breeze from cars that were passing by. All we needed was a bunch of flying maple leaves to make it perfect.

But dang, my answer would totally ruin the moment.

I was just a typical happy-go-lucky middle school girl when I signed up for the scholarship. My days were spent by cracking lame jokes with friends, spending hours on comics, reading fantasy novels, squealing over two-dimensional characters, and all those unproductive stuffs.
The longest time I've ever been without my parents was five days; I was rather shy and didn't even have the confidence to order my own food at restaurants. I didn't know how to cook. I only did house chores when I can't find excuses out of it. I have no siblings, no pets, and I just love having the house to myself.

I blame all the fantasy novels I've read for my sense of reality.

I thought being an exchange student would be like a year-long adventure. I would be that cool hero fighting through all the obstacles. How cool is that? Coming back home with fluent English skills, heroic confidence, and stories to brag about.

But man, I was wrong.

So I left my family, my friends, my school, my bedroom, and my crush ( who didn't seem very sad about me leaving at all, unfortunately) to come here, to the United States.

Being myself, I barely made it pass the airport.

Did I mention my fear of being trapped? Airplanes are the last thing I want to be on. Not being to get out and thousands of kilometers above ground? Did I also mention that used to have problems with panic attack?

So there was this girl in the queue, two luggages by her side, a big brown envelop and some papers in her left hand; not to mention, an unfinished form on her right.

I was walking and filling the forms and kicking my luggages forward at the same time, imagine that? I just had to drop a very important piece of paper on the floor. It was pretty embarrassing when a guy picked up that paper and read out my full name, incorrectly, I may add. To add to my embarrassment, the sensor couldn't read my fingerprint. I ended up walking back and forth at least four times while my new friends awkwardly stood there at the other side of the gate.

  I mentioned my problems with panic attack and my fear of airplanes. My therapist gave me this medicine that would make me emotionless to avoid panic attack from happening.

   Well, it didn't work. Everyone was separated, you see. Just to add to my bad luck, I was put in the middle of the airplane in between two strangers. During the first three hours I was just sitting there, trying to breath with hands over my mouth to avoid, well, accidents. I spent the remaining three hours after I've calmed down looking for a place to plug my earphones in.
  
   None of the holes seem to fit the earphone the airline gave the passengers. I checked around my screen and seat, no luck. The two white-haired next to me didn't seem very interest in using any electronic items either.

   A girl who was trying to pursue a career in computer science couldn't find a place to plug in her earphone, sweet. At least the two (cute) guys sitting in front of me seemed to be having the same problem. Not that I enjoy stalking people, but hey, desperate time calls for desperate measure. The flight attendance said it was on the side; until now, I have no idea where it is - and neither were the two in front of me.

After two drawings, many hours of sleep and two movies, I arrived in New York. From there on, my adventure had truly begun.