The sky was grey, greyer than I think I’d ever seen it. Rain was just starting to sprinkle down from the ominous clouds and onto the train window.

I pressed my palm against the cool glass and sighed. Fall was creeping up slowly on the world; changing the tree’s leaves into brilliant golds, yellows and reds. Everyone always said that fall was their favorite season; that they loved the soft element of change and peace that it brought. But I hated that change, because it was not peaceful and it was not calm. To me, fall was violent and slow. Fall was when they went away.

The New York City skyline was off in the distance. From far away all the buildings were silver and sharp, as if you were to touch them they’d cut your fingertips. I looked down at my lap, trying not to think about the new apartment and the new surroundings. Everything was always new; nothing was ever old.

I looked over at my Aunt Clara who was sitting beside me. She turned to me instantly, flashing a bright white smile. A lying smile. Her emerald eyes lit up though, looking from me to the skyline outside the train window.

“Well? Aren’t you excited?” she asked in that way she always would; like she was talking to a four year old instead of a sixteen year old.

“Uh huh,” I lied looking back out the window.

“Oh, it’s going to be great,” she said dreamily. I continued staring out the window, not replying.

Yeah, I thought. Great.