"A friend? Who could it be?" Lacy mumbled to herself as she waited in the train station. She arrived at City C thirty minutes ago.
Her father, Thomas, told her that someone was picking her up. But until now, there was no one. People just passed by.
She contemplated if she should just leave and look for a place to stay. She still had money from her previous part-time jobs in the community library in her village.
Also, her father gave her money enough to help her for a few months. It was the money that her father saved for months, and she didn't want to use it.
Lacy planned to return it when she got a job in a gallery or any job at that. But she really wanted to work in a gallery.
She was a fresh graduate of fine arts and had high expectations of herself. This wasn't baseless because professional teachers told her that she was good.
But she couldn't also help but thought that the standards in a small community college and the city was very different. She put this out of her mind because she believed that confidence breeds success.
She needed to believe in herself first. She was this kind of person, optimistic and tended to look at the bright side of the world.
Lacy gripped the handle of her luggage and looked around. Five minutes if that person wouldn't arrive, she would leave.
Then out of the corner of her eyes, she noticed an old lady walking down the stairs. The old lady trembled as she held on the railing. No one bothered to help her.
This didn't sit well with her, so she walked towards the old woman, dragging her luggage with her.
"Aunt lady," Lacy said as she appeared beside the person. "Let me help you."
The woman squinted at her and stared at her face.
"Who are you?" The old woman's high-pitched voice made her awkward.
"I'll help you get down," Lacy said.
"Get down?" The old woman narrowed her eyes at her. Lacy hurriedly let go of her luggage and looked around.
No one would probably take her luggage; after all, the people were busy with their own thing. Her luggage looked old, too.
"Yes." She smiled good-naturedly. The old lady looked suspiciously at her. She didn't know why she received such a contemptuous glare.
She guessed that the old woman must be wary of strangers, appearing to be afraid about swindlers. Lacy thought that the old woman might think that she was hustler or something.
"Okay," the old woman relented. She took the old woman's hands, and they went down the stairs slowly. The woman chatted with her.
She replied enthusiastically too.
"Thank you, little lady," the lady told her. She giggled.
"It's nothing, grandma. Take care," Lacy said as she waved her hand. The grandma ambled along the road.
Having done a good deed, Lacy felt happy. She walked back to her luggage but was shocked when her bag disappeared.
"Where's my bag?!" Lacy trembled in anger and looked around. She saw her old, brown luggage hoisted by a man. There was no mistake; it was hers.
The picture of her old cat was on the case, and she could see it clearly.
"Hey! That's my bag!"