As I walked into the warm, well-lit coffee shop I breathed in deeply, enjoying the thick, coffee/caramel scent. I ordered my normal, a caramel mocha, and collapsed into my normal seat: a two-person booth near the back. I began to drizzle, and then rain, and the droplets tapped against the glass, luring me half to sleep. I woke up and shook my head, pulling out my laptop and turning it on. The loading screen came up and my gaze wandered to the window, where the rain had stopped and the sun was shining through. People strolled across the sidewalk and cars raced by, determined to pollute the world. The lights in the shops across the street began to flicker off and the sunset was visible above the city line; a splendor of red and gold with the clouds above it like a layer of overlapping feathers ruffled by the wind. My laptop chimed and I clicked on my mail, which was overflowing with frantic messages from family and friends. I skimmed over email after email from my mom asking me where I was. I clicked the draft button and my fingers hovered over the letters, unsure what to say. I finally settled on the two words that said everything. I’m sorry. That was it. I clicked send and leaned back in my chair. I wanted to explain it all, to pour out my wrongs to her as I did when I was young. But I would only burden her; she wouldn’t understand. I had dreamed- and saved- for years to go to college. And when the scholarship came in the mail it was my saving grace. On one of the last days of summer I got up and flew to Los Angeles, where I would attend college. I would get a good, sturdy job and come back to support my family. My parents had already planned out my life for me, one I hadn’t wanted to live. I wanted to get out, not stay working at some greasy fast food restaurant for the rest of my life. As I thought about the choices I had made I wondered whether or not I had made the right ones, and if I hadn’t, how I would have turned out.