Prologue: Separation
When I was 10, I thought my life was perfect. I lived with my mother, Anna and father, Vlasis in Athens, Greece. We weren't poor. My father was a chiropractor and my mother was a teacher at the local high school. Our house was bigger than necessary for three people. I was educated at home with my best friend Yannis by his mother. My father grew up with his father. He was a dermatologist. His mother didn't work. My mother and his mother were friends from high school. Yannis and his family lived next door to us. They too had an unnecessarily huge house. Because our families were so close, we fenced our properties together as one. When I had a birthday, which was in April, we would decorate both properties. When Yannis had a birthday which was in June, we would also decorate the two properties. We were like a family. For ten years, I grew up with Yannis.
One day, during
the summer. Yannis and I were running around between my pool and his
pool. My father called me inside.
"Ella, we are going to be
moving to America soon."
That news, crashed my carefree
world. From then on, my life became a whirlwind.
All week, I
stayed in Yannis's house. I didn't want to leave. What if they
forget me? I thought to myself. I could live with
Yannis and his family. Yannis stayed faithfully by my side. He
held me in his arms tightly whispering.
"It's going to be ok
Ella, it's going to be ok."
How was it going to be ok? I was
going to leave my home, my other family, Yannis, and move to an
unfamiliar land far away. I cried staining Yannis's shirt. He
caressed my sandy blonde hair, rocking me back and forth in his arms.
On the day we had to leave, my parents had to pry be away from Yannis's arms. I clung to him with all my might, crying hysterically. Yannis also cried. He promised me he will never forget me. He promised me when he grew up he would look for me. My parents were stronger. My dad lifted me off the ground and carried me away.
On the plane I cried silently. Though I was in pain, I knew better than embarrass my parents. We arrived in New York. A bustling city with lights. I didn't care. I didn't care at all. Who cared that this was the land of the free and the home of the brave. I didn't want to be brave. This wasn't my home. Our house was sold and with the money we bought a house. It wasn't as grand, which made sense. My father started his chiropractic business again and my mother taught high school.
I never got over the fact that we left. I ran away several times. I didn't study in school. I picked fights. i ignored my parents' pleading. They punished me and I didn't care. i started to rebel. I dyed my hair blue. I hung out with a bad group of people that smoked and did drugs. Though I didn't do drugs, I cared for my health too much, I smoked every now and then. I felt like the promise Yannis made to me didn't exist. Why didn't he come and find me. He was probably happy now. But across the globe Yannis too was having a hard time.
I heard my parents talk on the phone once. Everyday, his parents would call begging to come back. They started to blame my parents for their sons odd behavior. I didn't believe it. Why would he have a hard time. He made a blank promise. How stupid I was. Why didn't I understand that a high school student couldn't just hop on a plane and rescue me. I was stubborn. Eventually, the pain dulled. I calmed down and started to turn my life around. Ruining my life just made me even more miserable. I started to excel in school and found better friends. I apologized to my parents. I was glad when they welcomed me with open arms.
In the winter of 2002, we got word that my father died in a car accident. This news caused my mother to go into a deep depression. The depression harmed her pretty badly. A year later, she committed suicide by jumping in front of a moving train.