Moving On

Sitting down by the coffee shop, rethinking the decision of cutting off my family. Although I was feeling regretful, part of me knew that I made the right decision. As I stood up and was getting ready to pay for the cakes I've ordered, someone came up to me from the back and tapped me on the back, 'Hey....' he said with a shaky tone.

I turned around to find my long lost best friend Fredrick behind me, shocking how he grew taller by 5cm in 3 months. Fredrick was there for me whenever I needed someone to talk to, and to be honest, if it weren't for him I don't think I'd even get the motivation to continue high school.

'Long time no see Freddie,' I said feeling surprised by the sudden appearance.

'How are you Eloise?' he asked in a worn out voice.

To my surprise, he didn't seem as stunned as I was. Something was off about him, not that he asked about how was I, its that he called me Eloise instead of Ellie. He only calls me Eloise whenever he feels down or something serious came up. I know that its been 3 months since we've seen each other, its just that it isn't like him to look so down.

'I'm good...' I replied feeling a little strange.

He and I sat down as he started telling me about how everything went downhill for his dad and that they were going to lose their companies, cars and even their house. I told him he could crash with me in the new apartment I've started renting recently.

We took a cab back to my apartment that was located in Brooklyn and started unpacking since my furniture just got in today. I was so focused on trying to cheer Freddie up the whole day that I had to hold in my feelings just to make it seem that I'm doing alright. We dusted all the books till our nose stung (trust me, I have a lot of books).

'I don't know about you but my bones are starting to tickle,' I uttered.

'Cake!' both of us chuckled at the same time. I'm glad that he finally laughed after a long tiring day.

Freddie started being himself again, the funny guy is back! When we sat down at my usual spot in Jean Pies, my pocket started buzzing. It was my mother. I starred at my phone for a solid ten seconds and declined the call. Freddie realized that something was off and asked me about my conditions with my family. He knew how they've always treated me since I was young, he was the one who asked me to move out and encouraged me to do so.

Since I was young, my dad hasn't always been with us since he was always out "working" as he likes to call it. And if he were home, he would stress out his anger onto me, but never onto my brother. When I was 4, my father used a stick to hit my hand because I didn't want to eat my food. It caused an accidental cut through my veins. He started hitting my legs when I was 7, for the most ridiculous reasons; like I didn't say good morning to him or I didn't wake up on time. So since I was young my parents wouldn't let me wear dresses or shorts so nobody would know how my picture perfect father acts at home.

My mother was always the warm loving one. Or so I thought... more like I hoped so. I always envy my brother for getting all the love from both my parents, so since I was young I always pictured that I was the one being loved... Whenever I see my mother caring for my brother like she never did with me, I would imagine myself as my brother. Its stupid thinking back at how much I craved for her love. But who could blame the young innocent girl I used to be.

Things took a twist when I turned 12, that was when I met Freddie. We were inseparable, we tell each other secrets that no one know. If I were to be asked of who I felt most comfortable with in the entire world, it would always be Freddie. I told Freddie about how I felt about my family thinking as if everyone is going through the same thing. Luckily for me, Freddie finally told me that it was considered as abuse and it was not normal at all. Since then, I came to my senses and started dreaming of living my own life, a life where every breathe would feel as if I'm a horse freely running throughout the fields without having the worry of getting hit by every move I do.

Simultaneously, something seems off with my own father... He was in the country but he only comes home late at night or somedays early in the morning. He gets angry more often and as expected I'm the one whose getting beaten up, to the extend of blood covering my legs entirely. One day, I saw a text message from my fathers phone, there was a heart emoji sent and it wasn't from my mother. So I quickly went to tell my mom what I saw, she kept quiet and walked into her room. Late at night, I heard screams from my parents room. My heart pounded as if I was the one getting screamed at. At that point, I realized that I had developed PTSD. I was running out of breathe, feeling light headed. Little did I know that my father burst into my room, holding a stick and started hitting me non stop screaming that I've ruined his marriage. The stick broke and he started kicking me in the stomach. My mother rushed into my room trying to stop him but he just wouldn't stop. I didn't know what happened after, I guess I just passed out.

I didn't really talked to my parents after that, I tried avoiding to go home. Freddie was always supportive to me, somedays he even let me stay with him. He would make me smile every time I feel down. I'm forever grateful for having a friend like him, if it wasn't for him I wouldn't know what to do with my life.

When I was 13, there was a coronavirus outbreak and all of us were forced to stay home. And I could swear that at least once a week my parents would start screaming in the middle of the night. I tried to call Freddie but he wouldn't answer the phone. And without Freddie, I was lonely. I was in a house with people who wished that I wasn't theirs. I was in a house, not a home. One day, my parents sat both me and my brother down and told us that they would be having a divorce, I didn't know what to think of it so I just let it slide. I didn't know what to feel back then because I didn't know what to feel for my own family.

I'm 16 now and I can't recall what really happened that month. All I could tell you is that my father went out on a business trip and caught the coronavirus. The only thing I remember was my mom video calling the ICU and I was on the ground crying my heart out to the news that my father died.

To be honest, I consider myself to be quite lucky to have someone by my side while having to go through these situations.

'Thank you for standing with me throughout my difficult years' I said to Freddie.

'Who are you talking to Eloise?' a voice spoked behind me.

It was my mother.

'I... mom hi....' I said to my mother, 'Freddie of course'.

'Oh honey... Freddie passed away a long time ago...' she said in pithiness.

She hugged me as tears came rolling down my face and whispered, 'You can only move on if you accept that its gone'.