Chapter 1
The sun is already up when Chelsea wakes, exhausted from packing her remaining belongings last night. Wearing her pink teddy bear onesie, she swings her legs out of bed and sits up. She wipes the dirt from her eyes and drool from the corner of her mouth. Chelsea looks at the clock; it’s 6:00 AM, two hours before the movers finally arrive.
“When will life get any better?” she said to herself as she struggled to get her balance to stand up from the bed. She rubs her eyes and wears her oversized eyeglasses.
“CHELSEA! COME DOWN HERE!” her mom yelled from downstairs.
“Ugh… Yes, I’m coming!” she yelled back.
Chelsea went down the stairs, rubbing her eyes post-wake-up, when she saw her mom frowning, looking at the boxes she had organized last night.
“So, you decided to move out?” her mother said sarcastically.
Chelsea sighed; she had to endure another moment of nagging from her mother. The yelling feels like a blade that slashes her ears.
“Chelsea, I worked for years, and you’re leaving me alone?” her mother said.
Chelsea took a deep breath as she tried to control her anger. No matter how many times she explained to her mother, she seemed to refuse to understand.
“This house is not for me anymore, Mom. I need to make my own life.” She said.
Chelsea’s chest felt heavy. She felt guilt and hesitation about whether she had made the right decision to leave her parents for good. She can’t imagine that leaving her home will be this emotionally complicated. Why does leaving home feel like torture, even if I am already of the right age and capable of making my own decisions?
Chelsea rolled her eyes and cringed as she watched her mother give her another round of a lecture. She had had enough. It is time for her to start a new life and be firm with her decision to stand on her own feet. The breadwinner era is done, and it is time for her to write her own path and chase her dreams. A life independent from the influence of her parents. It may sound harsh to them, but she has more worth than being treated like their own insurance policy.
The cycle of paying back to the family has been overused and toxic; it affects her life, and today is the day to end it. By the time her mother stops her lecture, Chelsea exhales.
“Mom, you may not support my decision now. But I believe this is for good,” She said.
Chelsea turned around and walked back to her room to freshen up and do her final preparations.
She has a happy family, well, it used to be, until unrealistic expectations suffocate her. Chelsea came from a middle-class, Asian household. If there is anything she’ll miss from her family home, it is the fried rice made by her mom, with eggs and bacon, or even hot dogs. She really adores her mother’s cooking, which she will definitely miss so much. When she was still a kid, her mother would even wake up early to prepare food for her before the school bus arrived.
Chelsea’s mother used to work as a bank teller, then she took an early retirement, knowing that Chelsea was finally working as a graphic designer. Her father works as an engineer in an automotive company. She never had a sibling. She is thankful she is the only child, or else, it might kill her conscience more if she left, in case she has one.
The movers finally arrived at exactly 8:00 AM, just in time after she finished doing her final routines. As they put her boxes in a truck, she booked an Uber, giving her room and her house one last look before she left for good. She then looks at her mom.
“Mom, I will miss y–” She said, but was cut off by her mother.
“Just go! And don’t bother coming back!” Her mother slams the door and locks it, but she still hears her sobbing behind the door.
Her heartache, tears start to form in her eyes too, knowing she is leaving her childhood home with a heavy heart and a mother who despises her now. She felt selfish; maybe she is, but her love remains for her parents, who helped her become a strong-willed woman. She turned around and looked up at the bright sky. And for the first time, she can finally breathe.
During her car ride to the city, she can’t help but check her phone. She kept her photos of the time when she treated her parents to a lunch date, and even the simple movie nights at home together. She smiled; she will miss those moments for sure. But behind those happy photos is a cycle of trauma that she wants to stop from worsening.
Chelsea closed her phone and thought deeply. For us to be at peace, I should step up and face real life. No matter what it takes, no matter what it costs. After all, change is inevitable.
An hour has passed, and she has finally arrived at the apartment complex located in the heart of a vibrant and busy city. This is where I will start making my dreams come true. Soon, the movers followed through, as she talked to the apartment manager, the movers expertly carried her boxes to her apartment unit, swiftly and efficiently.
Chelsea started signing some leasing papers and kept her own copies. Then, as she entered the elevator, she walked towards Unit 708, her new home, for the next few years. She enters the unit and locks the door. She now starts to feel overwhelmed as she stares at the boxes that she needs to unpack and arrange in their own respective places.
“Go, Chelsea, go!” she cheered for herself with a scowled face. She started unpacking a box that was labeled “Kitchen” written in a thick, permanent marker.
Chelsea regained her focus and grabbed a piece of cloth, starting to clean the counters while mumbling words of frustration. Focus, Chelsea. If you can’t beat the unpacking, you don’t deserve this apartment. You silly woman! One by one, her kitchen is starting to be filled with things.
Chelsea’s guilt in leaving her childhood home still lingers. She tries to brush it off, but the harsh words from her mom still sting. She sat down on the couch to relax for a bit. She’s been unpacking for a couple of hours now. She took a deep sigh. This apartment is strangely quiet. If mom is here, I can hear her loud mouth talking on her phone non-stop. I should have found a place for my turntable or speakers first, just to beat this silence. I am not used to it.
However, that silence was not long before she started to unpack for her bedroom.
“Ahhh. Ungh…” A guy is moaning just right beside her unit.
What the heck was that?! She thought. Her eyes are puzzled, and she leans her ear against the bedroom walls. The sounds became more sensual as she heard a bed creaking as if someone was ramming on something…or someone? She gasped. But it’s only freaking 3 p.m.!
“Damn, Chelsea. Stop with your imagination,” she shook her head until the moaning grew louder and louder. It is a moan of a guy. Unfortunately, it is not imagination; it is reality.
Chelsea gagged. Interestingly, she is starting a new life with a real-life porno soundtrack. She is not used to hearing such lewd sounds. As much as she wishes to unhear it, her mind is now poisoned. A prude and ignorant person like her can’t help but cringe. She is dumbfounded. Of all the things she will hear in this apartment, it’s going to be a moaning guy next door. No wonder she is still single until now.
She took a deep breath. Focus, Chelsea, get your game on so you can rest early and continue what remains tomorrow. She told herself. Soon, the moaning stops. God knows what that guy is doing now.
Later, she finally put her clothes in a closet, put her trinkets and decorations on some empty spaces to make it look lively, then she fixed her bed, pillows, and placed a small bear-shaped lamp shade on the bedside table. It had already passed 7 p.m. when she finished. She decided to order some Chinese food takeout for dinner to replenish her strength from the stressful and tedious packing. A while later, she finds herself in the shower, cleansing herself from the grime and dirt she had throughout the day until it’s time for her to sleep.
Wearing her pajamas and hugging a teddy bear, she looks at the ceiling. “Tomorrow is going to be a great day,” she affirms to herself. Only if this other series of moaning stops, she might believe that tomorrow will be great for her.
