Day one

Around seven in the morning, my phone starts buzzing loudly, waking me up as I turn around in bed and groan. My head pounds, eyes hurt and my face feels puffy. With another groan, I push myself up.

I walk to my bag, my phone is still in it from last night. Fishing it out, I hit the snooze button and head to my bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth. That's when I realize I look like hell.

My hair could not be in any worse condition than now; there are dark circles around my eyes and my whole face is puffy and I look extremely pale. I start splashing cold water to my face, my cab will be here anytime now.

Walking back to my room, I look around, making sure I haven't missed anything. With my mind occupied, I almost miss the incessant buzzing of my phone. Answering it, I realize it's the cab driver and I tell him my room number so he can come up and help me carry my stuff out.

Two minutes later, he's at my door and greeting me with a warm smile. We carry the four suitcases down the stairs motioning me towards his huge SUV, he begins placing everything in the trunk.

Once I get into the car, he follows after before starting it. We're out of the campus in no time. I focus on my surroundings; it's probably the last time I'll ever see it. I try my best to stop my mind from wandering off to things I'm not ready to think about yet.

An hour or so later, I arrive at the airport. The driver helps me unload my belongings from his car. I remain a few seconds there, rooted in front of the entry, taking in the warm California weather. I don't know if I'll ever come back here, so I just stand and savor the moment.

With a sigh, I make way into the airport. The rest is a blur as I do everything mindlessly and can't seem to focus on anything.

It feels like life is moving too fast for me to catch up to it. Everything is happening in the distance. It's as if I'm not there, just my body, and I'm looking at everything from the far corner. It takes around an hour for me to finally get into the plane.

Most of the ride, my mind keeps replaying last night along with all the conclusions. I don't realize how the five and a half hour flight goes by. It feels like a half an hour flight when we land in New York, my hometown.

As I walk out of the airport, I spot my dad's driver smiling brightly. A cardboard sign is held in his hands, my name printed on it in block letters.

"Hey Frank," I greet him as he walks up to me.

"Eleanor, finally back!" he enthusiastically says, making me smile at him. He loads the SUV's trunk all by himself, not letting me touch anything. "You must be tired; you had a long flight," he kindly says as he opens the door for me to get into the SUV. Shutting it, he climbs in on the driver's seat and starts the car.

The rest of the drive is spent with small talks, him asking about my college and how it was and how long I will be staying in town. I really had forgotten the density of traffic in New York. It's only three-thirty and we are already stuck in a traffic jam on our way to North Hills; home.

Past five thirty, we reach home and he stops the car in front of the house's entry. He starts taking my suitcases inside, again, not allowing me to touch anything. I stand on the green grass in front of my home.

It's been more than a year since the last time I visited here. It doesn't give me the feeling of home anymore.

I take in the neighborhood. My entire childhood has been spent here, yet it feels so foreign. Memories flood in; every day, Frank driving me to school and back, sometimes Jaceon visiting. That's the sum of the memories I have from here.

Frank comes out, biding his goodbye before driving off.

I walk into the house, closing the door behind me. Not bothering to go into the living room, I go straight towards the staircase and walk up.

On the wall next to me hangs the framed pictures starting from the beginning of my parents' marriage to my childhood and later on. A few pictures have been added from the past year. I spot my brother and his fiancée in their engagement ceremony, and a family picture from the same ceremony. They all look so happy in it... it doesn't look or even feel like someone- as in their daughter or sister- is absent. They look like a complete family even without me.

I shake my head to push away the thoughts and make way to my room. It hasn't changed at all from the last time I visited.

I close my door behind me, stand in front of the bookcase, and take in the room. The majority of my memories are summarized in this very room.

It feels dull. In the center of the room, my bed with a baby pink bedsheet sits with white nightstands at each side. My wardrobe is on one side, galaxies and stars drawn on it. Next to it is a full-length mirror with a small desk on the other side, where all my bracelets, watches and perfumes used to be placed on. Across my bed, I have my study desk with racks and racks of books on either side of it. The fourth wall just has a door in the middle of it, which connects my room to my private bathroom.

The room has basically nothing special in it, I had never paid attention to it... maybe now that I have some time off, I'll fix it and personalize it a bit.

The family dinner is in less than two hours, I wouldn't be able to get sleep, take a shower and be on time. So, I walk to my dresser and ruffle through it to see if I have anything appropriate to wear without needing to open my luggage just yet.

A soft knock on the door makes me stop as a girl around my age shyly opens the door. Her head hangs low as she asks if I need help with anything, and when I shake my head no, she offers a smile along with reminding me of the dinner and closes the door. I've never seen her before. I guess mom and dad hired her in the past year.

Somehow, I feel extremely left out, a way that I've never felt before. In this one year and nine months that I didn't visit home, it feels like life here had picked up its pace and left me far behind.

I'm an outcast... again.

It doesn't feel like I'm part of this family anymore. It's like I don't belong here any longer, but if I don't belong here, then where do I belong to? If it doesn't feel like home here, then where is my true home? It can't possibly be Stanford with its libraries and that room I lived in for four years , filled with students who can't stand me. I wonder if I'll ever have somewhere that'll feel like home.

Will I ever belong anywhere?

As I go through my clothes, I realize that none of them fit me anymore. I have lost weight like crazy and look awfully thin and most definitely, I'll look horribly hideous in these.

With a sigh, I start to open the two suitcases containing my clothing items and now that I have opened them, I might as well start unpacking in the right terms.

After forty-five minutes, I have completely unpacked my clothes.

I choose a blue and white short-sleeved plaid shirt with a comfortable pair of light blue jeans.

Mindlessly I start taking off the bracelets and the watch that I had put on less than twenty-four hours ago for my very first, very shitty party.

In my bathroom, I peel off my clothes, and walk into the shower, setting the temperature of water in a bearable temperature. At first, I just stand there doing nothing but closing my eyes and shutting off my thoughts. I focus on the burning feeling of the water running down my skin. For how long, I don't know.

Eventually, I press my forehead to the fogged glass of the shower cabin. Minutes tick away and I can't find the energy or strength to just get this god damned shower- and the whole night- over with.

With effort, I pull myself together and start my usual routine. I brush my hair for the last time before standing for a few minutes under the water, and finally, shut it and walk out. Everything I do is done with an unnecessary amount of concentration to prevent my thoughts from wandering off, and yet it doesn't feel like it's my body.

The realization comes from afar and settles in me; I haven't eaten anything from yesterday's lunch and still don't feel hungry.

With a gentle motion I take off the towel on my head and try to dry off the rest of the remaining wetness of my hair with it, slowly enough to not make it frizzy. I wish I had my mom's straight hair, it's so much easier! Standing in front of the mirror I blankly stare at my reflection. The longer I look at it, the louder it screams what a broken piece I am.

Sighing I walk out of the bathroom and now I can hear faint voices, showing my mom and dad have arrived home.

I check my watch and it dawns on me, I'm fifteen minutes late. I roll my eyes knowing my sister will nag about it.

I walk out of my room, I can hear everyone's voice clearly now, laughing and happy. Suddenly feeling extremely self-conscious, my heart starts beating faster as my palms begin to get sweaty. I start to bite my bottom lip anxiously.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, reminding myself that they are my family, my own parents... who love me. With a sharp intake of breath, I make my way down the steps, the voices getting louder as I go down. I slowly walk to our dining hall, where everyone is already seated around the table.

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((In this chapter I just mostly wanted to explore her chain thoughts and just her and I'm sorry nothing much happened in this chapter but I felt it necessary to showcase her emotions and thoughts even towards her own home... anyway I hope you liked it, if so, don't forget to vote and comment what you think about this chapter. Thank you for reading!))