Noen Eubanks - notes

one

I had always wondered what it had felt like to be stripped of everything; an empty package shipped into a land of strangers and new, unwanted beginnings. Despite that, I had never expected that I, myself, would ever experience such. I had lived in Ohio my entire life, staying in one house with one loving family. Then one day, the sky fell upon the Earth. An affair in the form of unspoken words, a battle in the form of silence.
My family broke into scattered pieces like a China dish full force to the concrete of life. My father had been having an affair. A tear-stained crack in the flawless promise of fidelity and trust. My mother, in her despair, had gained custody and gathered my 9-year-old brother and I, moving to Georgia, where my grandmother owns a small home.
My life had gone from a pristine white bow of perfection and happiness to a mess of jumbled thoughts and broken emotions locked behind closed doors in a matter of days— and even then, there was nothing I could do about it; no words I could speak to comfort my crying brother to whom knew only the pain of scraped knees and broken crayons— not a single phrase I could mutter to my mother who had been the victim of a completely broken world, who tried so hard to be strong for everyone but could only stand so much, who cried in the wee hours of morning before my brother and I woke up so no one could detect her pain, her weakness. I could do nothing to prevent the strain of life placed upon the people I cared about the most. And it broke me more than anything else ever had.
   My thoughts drown my reason as I hypnotically stare into the swiftly passing trees from the passenger seat of my moms SUV. Will this new life fix the problems my old one had planted? Will the liberty of new beginnings reverse the wedge of pain between the world and myself—or will I simply become a shell. My father once said that humans can find happiness anywhere; I believed him then. Now his words are shreds of wasted breath, a scream of desolation veiled by oblivion. There was a time that my fathers words mattered. It was long ago.
"Shannon, we're here." My mother spoke softly, gently shaking my brother awake and turning the car off as she gathered the new house key and moved towards the trunk. I helped my mother unpack wordlessly, for there was nothing I could say. The boxes remind me of my family. Dull on the exterior, but much different on the inside. No one would have anticipated the cruel fate of us all. I put and unpacked the last box, yawning and gazing at the clock — 9:31 pm.
After planning Monday's outfit, I crawled into my nee bed in my new house with my new life and wondered how it could have been if things were different, if the world had been so kind. My eyes drift to sleep as anxiety gnaws at my insides at the thought of school tomorrow. Had the world any mercy to spare?

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I know Noen isn't here yet but I'm soo tired, he will be in the next one I pinky promise!