By FATIMA B. BADURIA
You marveled at the Arch the first time you saw it.
It was a rather long walk from España to St. Raymund’s, but you loved the stroll beneath the trees. The day before, the thought of doing that had been surreal. The pulse in your chest became as quick as your pace; before you knew it, you were outside your classroom. As you pushed the door open, you could not help but smile. You saw faces you have only seen in pictures.
You liked the campus grounds even more when they were lit in various colors at night.
It was a surprisingly warm night in December, perhaps because of the crowd. You have never seen the field so full of people. You never liked crowds, but your friends were close, and there was music. Everyone was singing and laughing, and so were you. Though it was dark, lights hung from posts and trees. What truly illuminated the night, however, was the burst of sparks in the sky.
You replayed the memories as you walked around for the last time, wearing a toga.
It was a long day, but you wished it was longer. As students spilled out from the Quadricentennial Pavilion, you made your way to your friends. You embraced them as tight as you could.
When it was time, you walked towards the gate. Before leaving, you glanced back at the scene one last time. You smiled, then marched away. F