Illusion

o n e

a.n. / (WARNING: chapter does contain anxiety. Thought I would put that out there, just in case.)

xoxo, tangledinhiscurls

9 months earlier

"I can't believe my baby sister's moving to New York!" My older sister, Britt said, as she leaned against my door frame.

I sit cross-legged on my bedroom floor, packing up most of my belongings into various marked cardboard boxes. I've been packing all morning, with Britt casually stopping by every so often to annoyingly reminisce about our childhood.

"Remember when you accidentally killed a worm in the first grade and you cried for days?" She asks me, smirking.

I look up from the boxes I'm packing up and roll my eyes. "Would you cut the whole 'memory lane' thing out? I'm twenty years old now, and I've been dreaming of this forever, it's about time I get out of here, we both know that."

Britt sighs. "It's just gonna be crazy to not have you live here though. I'm gonna miss you, Em."

I smile. "We'll text. And Skype."

"We better, because it's gonna suck living here alone," Britt says, coming into my room and falling onto my bed.

"Move with me," I shrugged. "Get a job and we can live together."

She shook her head. "Someone's gotta take care of dad."

"Oh yeah, right..."

The conversation suddenly taking an awkward turn, I quietly seal up another box and set it aside. Dad's been a topic we've tried to avoid as of lately. Our father can't live alone, and he never will be able to. Years ago, when our brother Dan graduated high school, he disappeared, unable to handle the weight of a father who'll never be able to support himself. I hadn't seen him since.

With just the two of us, we knew someone was going to have to put their life on hold eventually. Now, with me leaving, Britt had graciously agreed to be the one to live at home, but it still felt weird to bring it up.

"Thanks...by the way," I say softly, avoiding her gaze.

She nods, suddenly finding the loose thread on her top extremely fascinating.

"Need help carrying out these boxes?" Britt asked cheerfully, putting dad behind us.

"That'd be great," I said, lifting a few boxes of my own and leading the way down to the truck.

Britt had been amazingly supportive when I'd announced that I wanted to move to the city. I wanted to pursue photography and I wasn't getting anywhere here at home. I knew there'd be so many more opportunities in New York.

"You know what, I'll drive you to the airport," Britt said, startling me from my thoughts. "Who would I be if I didn't even see you off?"

"Ok", I agreed. "Let me just say goodbye and we can go." I pointed back into the house.

Dad was in the living room, typing something up on his computer. Once mom had died, he'd devoted himself completely to working. If he wasn't in the office, he was still finding a way to do work. It was a good distraction.

The TV was playing Spongebob Squarepants, just for background noise, and dad sat on the couch, unshaven, still in his bathrobe. He balanced a bowl of lucky charms on one knee, a laptop on the other, all while he thumbed through a huge stack of documents. My eyes catch on an orange cylinder bottle of pills lying on the coffee table and I swallow hard. He'll never truly be better. His eyes were red-rimmed, tired looking. I watched as he ran a hand haphazardly through his hair.