The humming that had been constant for the last nine hours no longer fell on my ears as I sat back in my seat. The bones in my lower body ached and complained painfully, but all I had to calm them was the knowledge that I would soon be able to walk around again. The plane that had stiffened my bones and habituated my ears began its descent towards land, the pilot informed over the tannoy, and the seatbelt symbol pinged into life above my head. He also told us that we would land at quarter to one, local time. But I only left my country at nine in the morning! These time differences were something I would never get my head around. Who needs 'local time' anyway?!

Nine hours ago (or four, depending on how picky you were), I left my home country of England to come to the beautiful, welcoming state of New Jersey, America. I wasn't as bitter about that as people may think; traveling, adventure, they were what I lived for. I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life, but I knew I was going to travel. Whether that was taking a gap year and touring the world or working in a different country every week, I didn't know. Frankly, I didn't care - I was never a sentimental person; leaving England behind was just another day in the life of me. I had friends there, sure, but I wasn't as attached to them as I had them believe. Besides, social networking was invented for a reason.

A jolt forward told me land wasn't too far away. The cabin was suddenly filled with the loud whirring of the engines and a peek out of the window revealed Newark Liberty International Airport, quickly growing in size as we neared it. A rumbling grew louder and louder under my feet until a soft thud told us we were on the runway. My stomach did a little flip, but I couldn't tell you whether it was excitement or nerves that caused it. The plane began to slow and we were reminded by the crew that we must not take our seatbelts off yet. Or yet. Or yet...

Finally the light above my head switched off and I unbuckled myself from the seat I would not be missing any time soon. My hips gave a worrying crack as I pulled myself into a standing position and it was a good feeling to have the blood rushing back down into my feet that had gone cold with lack of circulation. I scooted out of the cramped row of seats and ducked under my dad's arm, which was reaching into the hand luggage compartment. He passed my purple holdall to me and then reached up to retrieve my mum's bag.

"Looking forward to New Jersey?" He asked in his Irish accent as he dragged my mum's bag down from the compartment.

"I hope it's as scenic as Google makes it out to be."

He laughed at my sarcasm - he knew I was excited; I'd just moved to America!

At thirteen years old, moving to a new country seemed like an adventure. I was now three years older and about to start my second school in New Jersey. "Why are you starting school again?" I can hear you asking. Well, don't worry, I didn't get beaten up at my last school or bullied into suicide attempts. In all honesty that didn't happen at all in my time in Jersey. The press like to blow things way out of proportion.

No, the simple answer was - I was sick of my all girls school half an hour away from my home and I was sick of not really making friends because I lived too far away to hang out. You see, my dad was a lecturer at Rutgers and was very academically orientated. He wasn't pushy, but he wanted the best education for me. I was sent to a private school in Newark, getting a lift from my dad every day on his way to work. I hated it. The school was stuck up and the people were even worse. I wasn't unpopular; I blended in, put up with the egos, but it's hard to keep up with people when you only see them in school. That's why I moved. And today you have the pleasure of witnessing the first day of my new school. As a rule, I never usually made preconceptions, but I was worried how I would be treated; the new English girl coming from a private, all girls school. This was Belleville, after all.

"Evie!" My mother called up the stairs. She was driving me today; she said she felt like she had to, with it being my first day. She worked as a nurse at the hospital not too far away from the school, but she worked shifts, so I would have to walk to school most days - something I was not too pleased about.

I hurried to the top of the stairs whilst struggling to pull a sock over my calf. My mum was standing at the foot of the stairs, absolutely tiny with her short strawberry blonde hair tucked into the neat bun she always wore to work. My hair, exactly the same as hers, wasn't so tidy. It was falling down my back in messy waves that were probably knotted at the ends and I didn't even care; I was in too much of a rush to fix it. Who knew not wearing a uniform could be so much of a hassle?

"Ready?" She asked as she watched me hop about.

"Yeah," I said, giving up on straightening my twisted sock and lurching down the stairs. My mum caught me just as I bounced off the banister and almost toppled over. She warned me to be careful whilst snickering at me and disappeared off into the kitchen to retrieve her nurse bag. I hurriedly threw my school things into the satchel hanging on the banister and skipped over to the door.

The five minute drive to school was silent with the exception of the cheesy morning radio. We pulled up outside the building around which a swarm of teenagers was moving in the same general direction. My mum wished me good luck as I stepped out of the car. I thanked her, trying to sound chirpy whilst my insides were squirming in anxiety.

I turned around as my mum pulled away and saw the crowd thinning. My pace quickened as I headed towards the doors, turning my head this way and that to try and take in my new surroundings. The warm September morning made the place look quite pleasant, with the bright grassy spaces and newly planted trees. Even the buildings looked happy with the sun reflecting off their windows. I should probably have been paying more attention, because as my head was turned the other way, I walked right into someone trying to get out of the door. Quite why he was trying to get out of the door when he was supposed to be making his way to class, I never found out.