Eleanor Finley Park, secret daughter of the practically famous business man located in Melbourne, who's life resides on the gorgeous beach island just off the coast. When Eleanor starts receiving horrifying gifts from a stalker, she returns to her f...
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Eric's house was small and creaky. When I lay in bed, as I am right now, I could hear each creak from his family's movements. Eric was my age, but born in May, so 4 months younger than me. His parents were in their 50s, his dad worked at the docks, mainly fishing or selling said fish. His mother, Ana is a stay at home mum. She spends a lot of time into perfecting a cleaning her home. It's beautiful, and significantly less chaotic than how I had decorated my own apartment. No green cabinets, or stars on the ceiling, but instead strategic storage and plain walls filled with achievements.
Eric had four younger siblings, swimming certificates and primary school photos were neatly arranged on the walls and fridge. The type of life these kids had made me jealous, structured and protected. His siblings had clearly been enjoying that I had come to stay, the three younger brothers constantly inviting me to play video games with them. Whilst their little sister enjoyed having me around, and me being able to teach her things. Like an older sister would.
It had only been 2 days since the funeral, but it had felt like much longer. The ceiling I spent most of my time staring up at felt painfully empty, opposed to my own bedroom. I most of the past 40 hours or so, I had been there. Thinking.
Me, the bed, the ceiling and music. Time passed slowly, only being disturbed twice to be asked to play video games, four times by Eric as he delivered food, and once by his sister.
"Nori?" She has just knocked, and now the small 9 year-old girl peaked her head around the corner of the door.
"Hey." I said, still feeling quiet and dissociative.
"Remember how you helped me in September? For the first say of school? When you made my hair sooo pretty?"
She was referencing when I had braided her hair in a more complicated lock-style. It was different to the usually braids her mother did in her hair.
"Yeah, I remember."
"It's picture day on Monday, and mama said I was allowed to ask you if you'd help me again!"
She was cute, but I still sighed internally. It took a lot of effort to complete, but I'd do anything for his family. I was and always would be eternally grateful for each of them.
I knew over time I'd get used to the squeaky floorboards and new street, but something inside me longed for my old life.
I scoffed out loud at the thought, my old life.
God, how have I ended up like this?
A life where I was filling Beth's food bowl, and hearing her feet pad across the hard floor in my apartment. A life where I wasn't constantly looking over my shoulder.
