Home Away From Home

The 5 Stages of Grief

"I can't believe this is happening. Is this like, a prank? Some sick joke? Are we going to make a last minute U-turn? Haha," My voice broke. "Very funny guys, but I want to go home now. Turn the car around." I looked away from the passing sign showing how far away the airport was to look at my parents. Dad sighed and tightened his grip on the steering wheel while Mum stared out the window, emotionless. My stomach dropped impossibly more.

"C'mon guys. You can't just-" I swallowed the lump that was growing in my throat. "Just give me away. You can't care that little. I want to go home. Take us home!" I panicked as I saw the airport on the horizon.

"Elija," dad spoke. "Don't make this any harder than it already is."

"This isn't happening." My voice was barely a whisper as I slumped in my seat.

"We're doing this because we love you. This man, he's going to fix you. Make you better." Dad said, the longest thing he's spoken the whole drive. I looked at Mum, who had her eyes closed. I felt my lip start to shake.

"Mum, Dad, I'm sorry! I don't need this. I don't have to leave. I'll be better, I promise!" The car pulled into the parking space. "I'm so sorry I ruined this, please don't send me away, I'll do anything!" Dad shook his head for probably the dozenth time and exited the car to get my suitcase. Hot tears pricked behind my eyes, but I pushed it away. Red hot rage ingited in my chest as I grunted and stepped out of the car

So this is it? They're really just going to ship me off to someplace? It's only been a week. Seven days is all it took for them to come to this. To be able to send me away as though I'm nothing. Oh he's gay? Well obviously we can't keep this one, it's broken. Let's send him over the fucking Pacific Ocean into an unfamiliar country, what could go wrong?

"Sweetheart..." Mum whispered, pulling me into a hug which I didn't bother returning. "Get better alright? We want you home." She said, planting a kiss on my forehead. I cringed and wiped the area furiously.

"Obviously not, since your throwing me so far out of your lives you'll probably forget me in a week!" I grabbed the handle to my suitcase, shrugged my backpack onto my shoulders and stormed off into the check-in. "Have fun without me," I called over my shoulder.

So now I've been on this plane for 8 hours and most of the passengers are asleep. I know I should try and do the same since I'll be meeting a bunch of unknown people in a random camp in a little less than 5 hours and who knows when my next good night's sleep will be. But however much I try, the feeling of betrayal that my parents would just kick me to the curb wouldn't leave my mind.

A light tap to my shoulder shook me from my thoughts. A young woman stared back at me, a concerned look on her face. "Where are your parents?" She asked, the American accent thick. "Back in Australia." I mumbled, averting my eyes. She frowned but didn't push it.

I sighed and pulled out my headphones, putting on a somewhat relaxing playlist and slipping into a dreamless sleep.

I awoke to the announcement that we would be landing in 8 minutes and immediately started to panic. How should I act? What do I do? How do I get there? Crap, I don't even know where I'm going! Thoughts swirled around my mind like a cyclone, each one as concerning as the next, demanding my attention as the plane shuddered to a stop. I sat while everyone collected their things and left the plane. Maybe if I call Mum now, she can arange for me to go home. I shook my head. If she didn't listen to me in the car, she wouldn't listen now. I sighed, grabbed my backpack and exited the aircraft.

When I entered the room with the baggage conveyer belt, a young man stood, holding a sign with my name on it. There was also a little smileyface, which sort of brightened my mood.  I sighed and made my way over to him. He smiled at me. "Elija White?" I nodded, offering a forced smile. "Well, I'm Peter. I guess you could say I'm your chauffeur. Why don't you go get your bags and we'll be off, yeah?"

I scoffed and turned on my heel to wait for my bag. That was rude. He's being nice and trying to cheer you up. You'll have to apologize later, you douchebag. I picked up the blue suitcase, covered with drawings etched in Sharpie. Peter smiled when he saw it. "You drew those?" I nodded again. "You should trade pieces with Haruki." I scrunched my nose. "Who's Haruki?"

"Oh he's one of the patients back at the house." If I was a cat my ears would've perked up. "House? I thought this was a camp?" He smiled. Then he chuckled lightly and began walking. "No, Elija. It's nothing like that. It's like a therapy house for boys who were mistreated or had nowhere else to go. Sometimes parents don't get the memo and try to send their boys there for things they can't fix." I looked up at him. He's at least 4 inches taller than me. "Being gay?" I asked, tripping over my luggage in my struggle to catch up. He nodded.

As we left the building and navigated the parking lot, I saw a figure waiting by a car. "Uhm, is that your car?" I asked. However, I didn't get an answer as a pair of arms flung around my shoulders and hugged me.

"Hi! It's great to meet you!" He let me go and sent me a smile that made my heart skip. If everyone is this cute I'm not sure I'll make it...

"I'm Jake. The others are back at the house, but they're really cool so you don't have to worry!"

Peter took my bag from my side and took it to the boot. "They don't normally come along, but Jake was really excited and no one can really say no to him." Peter explained. I see where you're coming from.

Then Jake's clutching my arm again. "You have to sit in the back with me, okay?" I nodded as he tugged me to the car, while Peter chuckled from behind us.