Eleanor's Journal

Entry 108

If you're reading this, that means I feel like my life is ending. My world is collapsing. I don't know what's real anymore. Maybe you're reading this and I'm already dead.

She's going to kill herself anyways so i might as well tell my story.

Hi, my name is Eleanor Jane Woods, and if you're thinking of a nickname, just know you're not the first, nor will you be the last. And I don't think you're funny. I just turned 17 and I wanted this year to be better. To be the best one. This is the year I thought I would get to be happy.

I don't know why I let myself believe that this year would be any different. Some aspects are better, but overall it's worse.

I guess I can start in the beginning

When I was born, It was pretty normal. I was two weeks early and weighed 5 pounds and 4 ounces and I was born at 4:47 in the morning. Nothing special happened when I was there and we went home a few days later. 

Everything seemed normal. My parents seemed happy. When I was 4, I took my first dance class, and very very quickly dance became my whole life.  I went to kindergarten, but that was the only time I actually went to school. Once I was enrolled in dance, my parents hired a nanny, Katherine, and for the longest time she was my only friend. With Katherine there, my parents started coming around less and less. 

I was never invited to do anything with the girls in my class because people didn't know my parents. My parents didn't exist to anyone outside of our house. And nobody wanted to hang out with the girl who had no parents. 

But with no friends, I just dedicated my whole life to dance, before I went to first grade, my parents enrolled me in online school, and it's something that i've continued to do. 

When I was 6, that was the last time I saw my parents. May 21, 2012. It was my 6th Birthday, or as I like to call it now, abandonment day. It was a pretty normal birthday. I got to sleep in a little bit, they didn't make me do school before dance that morning so it was nice. I ate cinnamon rolls and I drank apple juice. That used to be my favorite breakfast but now the sweetness is too much. I went to dance and had my regular monday classes, Ballet at 9, Jazz at 11:15 and then I had another ballet class at 3. Between Jazz and my afternoon ballet class I got to go eat McDonalds, which was super special because i could only eat there on special occasions because my parents said it would kill me. Like them leaving me alone with nothing but a note saying you'll be back soon isn't something that will kill me... anyways, I digress. My Jazz teacher brought me cookies for my birthday, but I had to share them with the class and I ended up only getting to eat one bite of my cookie before Taylor "accidentally" knocked it out of my hand. anywho... after all my dance classes we went to eat at some restaurant that i didn't like any of the food but had really good desserts and I ordered a cheesecake. and sometimes I wonder if I hadn't cried when I dropped my cookie, or if my whole life wasn't dance or if i didn't eat mcdonalds for lunch or if we went to a different place and I didn't get a cheesecake with a single candle in it, if my parents wouldn't have left me. 

But whether or not those things would change what would've happened, they can't be changed and what happened next is the reason that i think everyone is going to leave me. 

We got home and I showered, brushed my teeth, and went to bed just like I did every night. Mom and Dad came, and tucked me in just like it was any other night. They told me goodnight and that they loved me. And if I had known that it would be the last time that i saw them, then I probably would've hugged a little longer and definitely a little tighter. I went to sleep that night and probably dreamed of sugar plum fairies and swan lake. 

I woke up the next morning and the house was quiet, which was a little weird for a tuesday, dad usually dropped me off at dance, and so the radio would be on and he would be complaining about the news on the radio. But there was no radio, because there was no dad. I remember thinking about how weird it was, but I went ahead and started to fix me some breakfast as normal. I got a bowl and some strawberry mini wheats, and i remember that because I still don't eat them. Ate my cereal, did a little bit of school and was waiting for Katherine to come get me to take me to dance. 

One of them had packed my lunch in my bag like usual and being me, and hating surprises, i opened my lunch box as soon as i got in the car. Turkey on rye, gross, but i would eat it anyways. There was a note tucked in there as usual, but it didn't have the normal words of encouragement on it. I was expecting a "do great today" or "I love you" but instead it said "Sorry we had to leave. Be back soon. Be good. Love you!" It was in moms writing. I sat in the backseat and slowly repacked my lunch. I didn't say anything to anyone. If someone asked what was wrong all day, I just told them my stomach hurt. Which was true. It did hurt, but not because I had too much sugar on my birthday, not because Hadley gave me the stomach bug. My stomach hurt because my parents left me, and they didn't say goodbye, and they didn't even tell me they were going to leave.

I know what you're probably thinking. You think that my parents are dead, because there's no way that they have been gone with no communication for 11 years. Here's the thing, they're not dead. And this isn't even me being in denial about it or whatever. I live In the same house. All the bills are paid. Every week money is added to my checking account. Every year I get what I like to call an abandonment day gift. A fun little reminder that my parents aren't dead but have just gone another year without having any communication with me. Without caring what i'm doing or if i'm okay or anything. For my 16th birthday I got a car, 17th Taylor swift tickets, 15th a new boat etc etc you get the idea. 

So they're not dead, they just hate me.

Sometimes I catch myself wishing they were dead, or that they would just stop with the gifts. They don't know me, or what I like or anything. It's like every year buying a gift for a stranger.

So from the age 6-16 my life was the same, I danced, I did school, eventually I started to teach classes at the dance studio because it was just less time that i had to spend alone at home. I mean Katherine was there most of the time, but it was like being alone, she didn't say much. She would sit in her room when I was home and occasionally tell me that I needed to go to bed or things like that. And I would tell her she wasn't my mom. That's probably why she doesn't talk to me anymore.