54

I HAD STAYED up all night, working on my applications for different grad schools and scholarships. There were many institutes that offered the highest master's degree for journalism. The deadlines were close, and I mentally beat myself up for not turning in my applications earlier.

Luckily, Stony Brook University was offering a scholarship, picking the winners by their past records and merits along with a thousand-word essay on why they wanted the job, and other secondary questions provided.

The blinds were closed, the weak morning light trying to seep through the translucent curtains. I liked working in the dark. It was a comfort of sorts, even though the screen of my laptop had been blinding when I had first opened it.

I had grown accustomed to the quiet of the dark room and empty house – that's why I started when my phone's ringtone blared through room unapologetically.

"Hi," I said, still breathless from having been startled.

"What are you doing still awake? I left, like, an hour a