Growing up, my answer to practically any question was, "Sure." Sure; I'll drive you to the airport, so you don't miss your flight AND you won't have to pay for an Uber; not a problem at all. Sure; you can see my homework, but make sure you don't copy it word for word all right? Sure; I can totally reschedule that dinner we had planned, it's completely understandable that you really aren't feeling the greatest.
If you ask my mom, she'll tell you I strive to make everyone happy. Her little keeper of the peace. Ask my dad, and he'll go off on a tangent about how great of a daughter I am and crack a joke to get me laughing because our humor is the same. In reality, I do as my mom asks out of respect and I laugh at my dad's jokes to humor him. Unfortunately, I don't have the guts to tell them how I really feel; about their parenting, their beliefs, or how eighty percent (if not more) of my problems are because of them.
Eloise Margaret Franklin. A plain name for a plain girl.
It sucks, really. To live inside my own head, screaming at myself to speak. Words are a precious sort of thing. Say what you mean, and you may regret it forever. Keep it inside and you're left wondering how your word could have changed the situation entirely. Sometimes-- more often than not, really- I regret the words left unspoken.
Take right now for instance. My brother, the gentle giant he is, is assisting with my move. So is my entire family. All ten of them. Yeah, you read that correctly. There are eleven members of my family, and I sit perched at the top. Being the oldest of nine kids, I've seen a lot of different parenting styles through the years. Strict, relaxed, strict again when Keagan had that thing with the police, relaxed, and now a style I like to call "do whatever the hell you want as long as it doesn't distract from my mid life crisis."
"Eloise, dear, I need you to help more and stand less." That's mom.
I look down at the stack of three boxes in my arms. Apparently, my struggling to carry them all equals not contributing enough. With a nod and a "you got it!" I make my way to the truck. I knew moving across the country was going to be difficult, but somehow having ten sets of hands made things less efficient than if I had just done it myself. While my mom called me out on my "slacking," the youngest two of my siblings (Jenna and Liam) were sitting in lawn chairs watching stream after stream. Sometimes I imagine a day in the future where they watched their screen so much their eyeballs roll out their head just to catch a break.
If it wasn't obvious by now, my parents have favorites. They won't admit it, though I guess no parent really ever should. It would be nice if they made it a little less obvious.
"She cares in her own way, you know," I hear Nancy say as I hand her my stack.
"I know," I say with a sigh. "I would just really love to see that same sentiment guided in a direction other than mine."
"She's just trying to cope because you're leaving all of us here alone," Jamie pipes in, his disembodied voice carrying from behind the boxes.
"You just contradicted yourself. By stating there is an us, you are acknowledging you aren't actually alone."
"Okay Eloise now you're just being a bitch." Jamie's words are accompanied by a middle finger, giving away his hiding spot.
"Look guys, we've talked about this. I have to get out of here. For my sake, and yours to be quite honest, I need to live on my own. Far away from this backwards-ass town." I know my family thinks I'm crazy for wanting to move, especially since the longest I've been away from home was for two weeks every summer.
"Whatever. Let's just get these last boxes in here so you can go live it up with Kelsey in California." Nancy loves Kelsey, she's just being dramatic to guilt trip me.
The desire to get up and leave was not something I built up to. One day my brain just absolutely couldn't take it anymore.
Leave. Leave now or you'll never be happy.
What a nice brain I have.
Maryville, Tennessee isn't the worst place to live. Twenty minutes from one of the larger cities in the state, it has plenty of sights and scenes and sounds to explore. But it doesn't feel like home. At least, not my home. I'm not really sure I even know what home feels like. Is home where the heart is? Or is home the place where we're surrounded by people who genuinely care? Does my home have to be near my family? Home, as foreign of a concept as it is, is what I'm striving for. I want to feel like I have found my place, my people. My only "people" are currently waiting for me to drive over 2,000 miles.
After another hour of bending up and down and up and down, dad rolls the door shut. Wiping his hands like he grabbed dirt he says exactly what I expected.
"Well, that's the last of it. Don't come crying to me when you can't take it anymore; your room is not my office."
He's kidding.
... I think. He really is quite hard to read.
"Oh Bob, don't say that! Eloise, honey, you'll always have a place to stay here."
"Thanks, mom. I'll be sure to keep that in mind when I inevitably fail at life and have to move back in at 35."
Silence. It sits in the air no more than thirty seconds before-
"That is if you aren't found dead in a ditch!" That statement gets a laugh. From approximately eight of them. Taylor, the absolute angel she is, chose instead to give me an eye-roll in solidarity. Mom decided to do was she does best: yell in disbelief without real reprimanding.
"Calvin!! That is absolutely no way to talk to your sister!!"
But of course, he made some snarky remark, my mom gave up on trying to get through to him, we had one last family group hug ("You guys know I'm not dying right?") and dad and I set out to California. My family is far from perfect, that day was mostly unenjoyable, and I've hardly ever felt like a moment was significantly life altering. Yet there is something about that day I can never leave behind. That day was the first step towards finding myself.
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Hello! I really hope this story finds you well! I am so very determined to keep up with this book and really finish it. I do not have an editor, nor have I every finished any story I've started. BUT I am very excited to create something people can relate to, or at the very least feel something because of it. Please leave comments and reviews so I can continue to learn and grow as a person and writer!
-MC
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Essentially Existential
General FictionEloise Franklin doesn't know who she is. She's been coasting her entire life. A decision to move 2,000 miles away from family and live with her best friend of ten years make her question a lot. Her typical day-to-day life doesn't feel right anymore...
