I have been assigned a simple task: write out what went wrong. They don’t understand why I hate myself, and they think me explaining day by day what happened would somehow make them understand. So, here I am, writing to you what went wrong. I remember it like it was yesterday: my parents and I were moving to Australia. It was really sudden, but out of the blue one day my mom said to me “Honey, we’re moving to Australia. I finally convinced Dad and we’re going! Pack your things.” It was in the middle of a school year and I had a job and a good reputation and everything, and they were going to take that all away from me. But they were my parents, so I had to deal with it, so off I went to Australia.
It was a 19 hour flight. I spent the entire flight watching Disney movies. My favorite was The Little Mermaid because of all the music and the love. I started crying while I was watching it because of the nostalgia. The song “Part of Your World” really hit home with me because even though I had friends and everything at my old school, I didn’t fit in because I was a loner. There was a boy I knew before I left, his name was Aaron. He was always smiling, and he was very intelligent. It almost seemed that he was smarter than me, yet I was the one in all the honors classes. I didn’t think he wanted to apply himself. I didn’t blame him. It was a lot of work. I found Aaron to be fairly attractive, he was a handsome man, but something felt different about him from how I felt about others. I didn’t understand it.
I’m both excited and glad that I have a journal, because it makes it easier to tell you all of this. I’m excited because I get to tell you about all the adventures I went on after I moved here. I’ve kept journals since I was a little kid, so everything is a hundred percent easier to remember if I’ve written it down before. I remember falling asleep while I was on the plane; I had a strange dream. There was a boy in it and he kept telling me to follow him and it didn’t make sense. We were in a large city and it was rather hot. Everywhere I followed him, he would always say “Oh just a bit further,” but this went on for hours. It was always “just a bit further,” but it never ended. After what seemed like days in the dream, I arrived at this building that seemed to resemble a funeral home. I could’ve sworn I’ve seen it before. When I stepped inside, my jaw dropped. My whole family was there. They were all crying. I went up to my mom and asked, “Mom why are you crying? What’s wrong?” but I got no answer. I saw a casket. I walked up to it. My body was laying in the casket. I was so confused. Here I was looking at my dead body lying in a casket. That was when I woke up.
The rest of the plane ride I tried to figure out what happened, but it was hopeless. I couldn’t figure it out. Why was I dead? I didn’t understand any of it, and people always told me that there was a reason we had dreams. We play out possibilities inside of our heads, but they aren’t actually what they seem. It’s like our subconscious is trying to speak to us, but it can’t just come out and say what’s wrong. So maybe it speaks to us through our dreams instead.
When the plane landed, it was 6:00 in the morning. I was tired, but having slept at least 7 hours on the plane, I felt I would be fine. As I was getting ready to leave, I grabbed my coat from my seat, and put it on, thinking it would be cold. The sun was just starting to come up. When I came out of the plane, I was shocked: it wasn’t cold. It was abnormally warm. I didn’t understand it because it was the middle of February. I thought it was supposed to be cold this time of year.
“Mom, why isn’t it cold here in February?” I asked.
“Because it’s summer, silly,” she said laughing.
I felt so dumb. I wanted to bang my head on the wall. I felt like an idiot for not remembering that Australia had opposite seasons because they were in the Southern hemisphere. I wondered if they started school at the end of the summer in February, like we did at the end of August.
We drove from the airport to the house. The house was a small one story home with small bushes in front of it. It had a small porch in front, and it was rather adorable. It looked like one of those houses that old couples moved into. When my parents showed me the images of the house on the plane, I fell in love with it. It was such a cute little house. The kitchen in it was amazing, though. There was an island in it, and it had marble counter tops. So I guess you could say it was an expensive, little house.
We were shocked to see the furniture truck was already waiting for us. My parents sent most of our stuff a month ahead of time, leaving only essentials like a TV, computer, beds, pots and pans, etc. It was all done in secret. I thought they had just decided the day they told me that we were moving. It was so shocking because it was expected to arrive two to three months after we had arrived, but it was here already. I went into my room and discovered that it had blue walls. Blue was my favorite color, you see, so it made me extra happy to know that my room had blue walls.
I spent the rest of the day helping my mom and dad unpack. By 5pm, I was exhausted. I decided to grab my laptop out of my suitcase. I turned it on, and it worked fine and everything, but then I remembered the internet wasn’t set up and I sighed loudly. Giving up, I went to sleep on the air mattress that I brought along. I felt it would be boring without a TV for a few weeks, so sleep was the best option for now. I don’t remember dreaming that night.
The next few days were boring. I spent most of my time unpacking. By the time it was Sunday, I was nervous because I would be starting school the next day. I found it to be both scary and intimidating. Imagine starting school in a different country. It’s even worse than having to start in a different school. You aren’t even from there, and you know basically nothing about the country except a few minor details. It’s like you have to forget everything you ever knew, and learn everything over again. It was stressful for me because I didn’t even know if what I brought along was typical Australian fashion, or if it was strictly American. That was when I remembered that I had to wear a uniform to school, and I felt dumb, like when I got off the plane.
That night, I came into my room and took a good grasp of the room that I had set up. There was a twin bed pushed against the left wall, and a small closet on the right side. I had a bunch of posters hanging up on the wall. Mostly fandom stuff. I set up a shelf with all of my favorite books on it, too. To top it off, I had a small TV that my mom got for me that day placed on top of my dresser so whenever I wanted I could play video games while sitting in bed. It was a small room, and it was rather crunched with everything in it, but I liked it.
