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What time will you be here?" My mother asks. I can hear her annoyance through the phone.

"I'm not sure." I respond.

"Okay bye." And the dial tone rings in my ear.

Sighing, I sit back in the driver's seat of my truck and revel in the last bit of freedom I will feel for a while. I run my fingers through my curly red hair, start the engine and look at my reflection in the rear-view mirror, "It's just a couple of days. You can do it." I say to myself.

As I drive with the window down and the radio blasting, I sort through my emotions. Driving has always cleared my head.

For most people, heading to their hometown to visit their old life is great and exciting even. For me though, I'm just eager to get it over with. My family isn't exactly the picture-perfect family on the Christmas card. Although my mother would love to have everyone see it that way. I had better things planned for my life than to stay in an unwelcoming town.

I'm a traveler. All I need is my good, old truck here with the staticky radio blasting while the wind blows between my fingers, with nothing but the open road in front of me.

And so, I drive to my dreadful hometown asking myself, like I always do, why I come back here every year.
You know why you do this. Just remember who you do this for. I answer myself.

I pull up in front of the red brick house I grew up in. Nothing has changed. When I walked into the house my stepfather is on the couch watching tv, no doubt his favorite dumb videos of random guys playing video games. He says nothing when seeing me in the doorway. Just a simple nod as he focuses back on tv. "One down and more to go."  I think to myself.

As I make my way out of the living room and into the kitchen, I see my mother is wasting no time preparing dinner. "Hey mom." I greet as neutral as I can. No need to put emotion into it if she'll tear me apart for it later. "How was the drive?" She says pointing to a peeling knife. I wash my hands and grab the knife as she moves the sack of potatoes between us both.

"It was fine. I would've been here sooner, but I had to take a look at the truck first to make sure she could handle the trip." I respond.

My mother scoffs, "I don't see why you drive that old thing. Ladies should drive something dependable."

I roll my eyes but say nothing. It's the same thing every year.

"Plus, if you didn't wander around aimlessly everywhere maybe you wouldn't have to worry about if you could make it home." She mumbles.

There's tension filled silence for the rest of our mother daughter quality time.

Once finished, I make my way to the back of the house and see that my younger sister's room is empty. She's probably out on the town as she always is. The popular girl never sleeps.

I walk on to my brother's room and knock. "What?" I hear.

"Mind if I come in?" I ask. I wait for a response and am a little startled when the door swings open.

My brother stands and looks at me undecided as if he isn't sure if he wants to let me in or not. Eventually he steps back and allows me to come in.

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