Carton Series

Return my mother’s handbag

Alright, imagine you're about to start a big adventure, like stepping into a magical world filled with books, new friends, and exciting discoveries. That's what happened to Alex on their first day at university.

ⁱᵗ ʷᵃˢ ᵃ ᶜʳⁱˢᵖ ᵃᵘᵗᵘᵐⁿ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ʷʰᵉⁿ ⁱ ˢᵗᵘᵐᵇˡᵉᵈ ᵘᵖᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒˡᵈ ˡᵉᵃᵗʰᵉʳ ᵇᵃᵍ. ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘⁿ ᵖᵉᵉᵏᵉᵈ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵒˡᵈᵉⁿ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉˢ, ᶜᵃˢᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵉˡᵒⁿᵍᵃᵗᵉᵈ ˢʰᵃᵈᵒʷˢ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵇᵇˡᵉˢᵗᵒⁿᵉ ˢᵗʳᵉᵉᵗ. ⁱ ʰᵃᵈ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˢᵗᵉᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵘˢᵗˡⁱⁿᵍ ᶜᵃᶠé, ᵐʸ ᵐⁱⁿᵈ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ˢʷⁱʳˡⁱⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉᵐⁿᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ᶜᵃᵖᵖᵘᶜᶜⁱⁿᵒ⁻ⁱⁿᵈᵘᶜᵉᵈ ᵈᵃʸᵈʳᵉᵃᵐ. ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ⁱᵗ ʷᵃˢ—ᵃ ᶠᵒʳᵍᵒᵗᵗᵉⁿ ʳᵉˡⁱᶜ ᵒᶠ ᵃⁿᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵉʳᵃ. ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵃᵍ ˡᵃʸ ᵃᵇᵃⁿᵈᵒⁿᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵃ ᵇᵉⁿᶜʰ, ⁱᵗˢ ʳⁱᶜʰ ᵇʳᵒʷⁿ ʰᵘᵉ ᶠᵃᵈᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ. ᵗʰᵉ ᵇʳᵃˢˢ ᶜˡᵃˢᵖ ᵍˡⁱⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ⁱᶠ ʷʰⁱˢᵖᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵉᶜʳᵉᵗˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵈᵉᶜᵃᵈᵉˢ ᵖᵃˢᵗ. ⁱ ʰᵉˢⁱᵗᵃᵗᵉᵈ, ᵗʰᵉⁿ ʳᵉᵃᶜʰᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵒᵘᶜʰ ⁱᵗ. ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵉᵃᵗʰᵉʳ ʷᵃˢ ʷᵒʳⁿ, ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗⁱᵗᶜʰᵉˢ ᶠʳᵃʸᵉᵈ, ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ʷᵃˢ ᵃⁿ ᵉˡᵉᵍᵃⁿᶜᵉ ᵗᵒ ⁱᵗˢ ⁱᵐᵖᵉʳᶠᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ. ᶜᵘʳⁱᵒˢⁱᵗʸ ᵗᵘᵍᵍᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᵐʸ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ. ʷʰᵒ ʰᵃᵈ ᵒʷⁿᵉᵈ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᵇᵃᵍ﹖ ʷʰᵃᵗ ˢᵗᵒʳⁱᵉˢ ᵈⁱᵈ ⁱᵗ ʰᵒˡᵈ﹖ ⁱ ⁱᵐᵃᵍⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᵃ ʸᵒᵘⁿᵍ ʷᵒᵐᵃⁿ, ᵖᵉʳʰᵃᵖˢ ᵃ ʷʳⁱᵗᵉʳ ᵒʳ ᵃⁿ ᵃʳᵗⁱˢᵗ, ᶜˡᵘᵗᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ ᵗⁱᵍʰᵗˡʸ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ⁿᵃᵛⁱᵍᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ˢᵗʳᵉᵉᵗˢ. ᵐᵃʸᵇᵉ ⁱᵗ ʰᵃᵈ ᶜᵃʳʳⁱᵉᵈ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ˡᵉᵗᵗᵉʳˢ, ˢᵏᵉᵗᶜʰᵉˢ, ᵒʳ ᵃ ᶜʰᵉʳⁱˢʰᵉᵈ ⁿᵒᵛᵉˡ.

Alex had butterflies fluttering in their stomach as they walked through the gates of the university, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. They looked around and saw so many new faces—some smiling, some looking just as unsure as Alex felt.

Their heart raced as they found their way to the big lecture hall for their first class. The room was huge, with rows of desks and a towering screen at the front. Alex found a seat, feeling a bit overwhelmed by it all.

ⁱ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵒᵇˢᵉˢˢᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵘⁿʳᵃᵛᵉˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐʸˢᵗᵉʳʸ. ʷʰᵒ ʷᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ﹖ ʷʰʸ ʰᵃᵈ ˢʰᵉ ᵃᵇᵃⁿᵈᵒⁿᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᵇᵃᵍ﹖ ⁱ ˢᶜᵒᵘʳᵉᵈ ᵒˡᵈ ʳᵉᶜᵒʳᵈˢ, ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵛⁱᵉʷᵉᵈ ᵉˡᵈᵉʳˡʸ ⁿᵉⁱᵍʰᵇᵒʳˢ, ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷᵉᵈ ᶠᵃⁱⁿᵗ ᵗʳᵃⁱˡˢ ᵒᶠ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳʸ. ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ⁱ ᵈⁱˢᶜᵒᵛᵉʳᵉᵈ, ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ⁱ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᶜᵒⁿⁿᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉʳ. ˢʰᵉ ʰᵃᵈ ˡᵒᵛᵉᵈ ᶠⁱᵉʳᶜᵉˡʸ, ˡᵒˢᵗ ᵈᵉᵉᵖˡʸ, ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜᵃʳʳⁱᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐˢ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᶠʳᵃᵍⁱˡᵉ ᵖᵉᵗᵃˡˢ. ᵒⁿᵉ ᵈᵃʸ, ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᵈᵘˢᵗʸ ᵃᵗᵗⁱᶜ, ⁱ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵃ ˡᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ—ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡ ᵖⁱᵉᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵘᶻᶻˡᵉ. ⁱᵗ ʷᵃˢ ᵃᵈᵈʳᵉˢˢᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉʳ ᵈᵃᵘᵍʰᵗᵉʳ, ᵖᵉⁿⁿᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗʳᵉᵐᵇˡⁱⁿᵍ ˢᶜʳⁱᵖᵗ. ˢʰᵉ ˢᵖᵒᵏᵉ ᵒᶠ ʳᵉᵍʳᵉᵗˢ, ᵐⁱˢˢᵉᵈ ᶜʰᵃⁿᶜᵉˢ, ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵉⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳⁱᵉˢ. ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁿ, ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵈ, ᵃ ᵖˡᵉᵃ﹕ “ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᵐʸ ᵇᵃᵍ, ᵐʸ ˡᵒᵛᵉ. ʳᵉᵗᵘʳⁿ ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʷᵉ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵐᵉᵗ.

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