Across the Ocean - Kyra Cooney-Cross

Chapter One - Beyond the Horizon

When I thought about my future, I never truly expected anything to change. I imagined my siblings living at home forever, my dog chasing balls endlessly, and myself enjoying my mum's famous French toast for breakfast every day. But that wasn't true.

 As a kid, you never really expect to grow up. Most kids spend half their childhood dreaming of being older, without bedtimes or anyone to answer to. Time seemed to crawl so slow when I was young, and growing up felt impossible. Then one day, I blinked, and now I'm nineteen, practically an adult, staring down the road that leads to my future—a road I was meant to walk alone.

I grew up in Australia, in a small town where everything seemed to be centuries behind the rest of the world. "Hope Town" had 280 residents, and then there were us, the Parkers. My parents had lived there their whole lives, just like their parents and grandparents before them. I remember the first time my parents left town; they had never been more than two hours away from Hope Town, but I needed to go to the city for a doctor's appointment. I was just ten years old. My mum, Cassie, was so nervous she wouldn't stop rambling in the car, and my dad, as he did when he was stressed, said nothing at all. They were so comfortable in their little bubble of large roads and no traffic, and hated every minute of the city. 

For me, it was different. I loved the endless fields of green in the winter and burnt orange in the summer. But I knew there was something more out there for me, beyond the three other kids my age, the limited career prospects of a waitress or farmer, and everyone knowing everything about everyone.

I'd dream all day, about cities like New York and London and would imagine myself there. Walking the streets with a coffee with the lights and new smells. Maybe I'd live in a little apartment that looked over a busy street where I'd watch locals on their daily commutes. I wasn't sure how I was going to do it. I knew Hope Town would always be home but somewhere new needed me and I needed it. 

My parents didn't like the idea that I was a dreamer. My brother Kyle, though only slightly older, was just like them—comfortable in his little bubble of the farm and the small town that felt suffocating to me. His twin, my sister Laura had already settled as a housewife with her husband James, who worked on the farm just up the road. She was content with her little life, tucked away in a cottage where she spent her days reading and cooking.

The day I turned 16 I started working at the Café in town "Betty Bon's" every cent I earned was put away in hopes of making the move to anywhere other than here. Dad would always say "Ella you're doing a good job saving money for my retirement", and it was his way of letting me know there was no way I was going anywhere. 

Every day felt like a step closer to insanity, the monotony and confinement started to strip away at my spirit. The fields that once seemed endless now felt like walls closing in, and the familiarity of every face became a suffocating reminder of my own purgatory. Yet, the guilt of not feeling content, surrounded by my family and the simplicity of the life we live, was just as excruciating as the sense of entrapment. It was a constant internal battle—loving them deeply but yearning for something beyond the horizon, feeling both ungrateful and desperate for escape.

The day I graduated high school it gave a sense of relief there wasn't anything holding me back anymore, but again I had dreams and I was doing anything to make them my reality. So just 2 days after my 19th birthday I booked a one way ticket to London. Just like that I was saying goodbye and setting off.