I popped open the door of apartment 301. I threw my rucksack on the couch, and quickly got dressed in a fresh set of clothes. I peered in the mirror and tried to pat down my unruly brown hair. That would have to do.

    I ran down the stairs and walked to the nearby school. A smartly dressed woman, her black hair wrapped tightly in a bun stood outside the doors.

    She smiled at me. “Yash Laar?”

    I nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

    She extended her hand; I shook it. “Come in.” We went into the school and to a little office.

    The woman sat behind a pretty black desk. “Welcome to Hercules High. I am Mrs. Sotharo, the principal You are here to apply to be a janitor?”

“Yes.”

For the next few hours, I answered whatever question the lady gave me, like what my backstory was and what school I went to. She looked worried when I said I never went to school.

But, at the end, the woman decided janitorial work did not require school. I was accepted.

The next day, I was to start my job.

I was starting on a life in the city.