Why Does The Protagonist In Pine Leave Home?

On the day my family buys a new car, everyone excitedly starts making plans for the future. On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, they'll drive my brother, Jake Walt, to the science museum. On Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, they'll take my mom to the gym. Most importantly, they'll drive my younger sister, Emily Walt, to and from college every day. Even though she's required to live on campus, my parents can't bear to let her commute alone, so they'd rather make the six-mile round trip every single day. They map out everyone's schedule except mine. When I leave for graduate school, I take a rideshare by myself. But after Emily uses my payment account to buy herself a new phone, I no longer have enough money to pay the toll and the driver abandons me at a highway rest stop. Stranded under the blazing sun, I call home, hoping for help. Instead, I'm met with nothing but blame. My parents scold me for inconveniencing them. "We're taking Emily to school. You expect us to turn around and waste all that gas?" My childhood friend, Patrick Green, says I brought it on myself. "I warned you not to go so far away for grad school. This is your own fault." Jake mocks me. "You made good money over the summer, didn't you? You're old enough to figure this out yourself instead of expecting everyone to rescue you." Looking at the money left in my wallet—the rest of my summer earnings already "borrowed" to buy Emily's college supplies—I finally realize the truth. In this family, I'm never treated like a daughter. When the elevator is overloaded, they push me out without hesitation. When the new house's fingerprint lock only allows five users, they give the last spot to Emily's dog instead of me. If there's never been room for me in this family, then it's time to stop trying to force my way in.

At ten years old, my parents divorce, each remarry, and abandon me to be raised by Grandma. When we see each other again, it's the summer after the College Entrance Exam. Mom and Dad both walk into the restaurant to book private dining rooms, and it just so happens to be my turn to seat the guests. Mom links arms with her stepdaughter, Alesha Callen, and smiles proudly as she instructs, "My daughter scored a 625 in the College Entrance Exam. We'll take your biggest room." Dad, holding his son Robby's hand, claims the room right next door. "It's my son's seventh birthday. We'll need a large room, too." They lock eyes for a brief moment before quickly looking away. Mom chuckles. "Throwing such a big birthday party for someone so young? You certainly spoil him." "Your daughter's the impressive one," Dad replies politely. "She's got a bright future ahead of her." And yet, neither of them recognizes me—their biological daughter and Jethroville's top scorer in this year's College Entrance Exam. I wipe the grease from my hands and carefully note down their requests. Mom orders a table full of seafood, saying that it's Alesha's favorite. Dad hands over a birthday cake he baked himself, instructing me to place it in the fridge. Just before they walk off, Mom asks offhandedly, "What about the other one? I haven't heard anything from her at all. Did she fail the exam?" Dad blinks. "I have no idea. She hasn't contacted me." I don't bother looking up. I just continue replying to a message from the real estate agent. Once I sell the old apartment Grandma left me, I'll finally be able to go somewhere far, far away with absolutely nothing holding me back.

On the first day of every month, my mom will give me my allowance based on the number of times I had checked in with her last month. "You'll receive 20 dollars for greeting your parents once in the morning and once in the evening. But last month, you only hit ten days' worth of quota, so you can only receive 200 dollars. This also means your 300-dollar punctuality fee will be deducted as well. "After adding on 150 dollars for your basic necessities, you shall receive only 350 dollars for this month's allowance. Remember to write a reflection report on your lack of punctuality later. I'll only transfer you the money if your report is acceptable." I become so overwhelmed by anxiety that my voice starts trembling. "I was busy with my finals last month, Mom! I had to line up outside the library at 5:00 am every day just so I could secure myself a seat! That's why I couldn't call you in time!" In a choked-up tone, I plead to my mom, "I need 600 dollars for the train ticket all the way home during the holidays! 350 dollars really isn't enough for me! Mom, can you please—" But my mom cuts me off firmly, "The allowance system is something that I've specifically designed for you so that I can help you get rid of the bad habit of wanting to receive everything without putting in hard work! Why can't you just understand that I'm doing this for your own good?" After that, she ends the call mercilessly. Just as I'm filled with despair and helplessness, a blond appears before my eyes. He's willing to buy my train ticket for me, but in return, I need to leave with him.

While packing Ethan's flight bag, I found a custom solo wings pin. The engraving on the back read: For Lark, to celebrate your first solo. Beneath the box sat the receipt for Skyler's flight school tuition, paid in full by Ethan, along with a photograph. In the photo, she was sitting in the pilot's seat. Ethan's gloved hand rested over hers on the control yoke. Seven years ago, I had sat in that same seat. Back then, I was one step away from my first solo flight, but Ethan talked me out of it again and again, always claiming it was "for my own good." He said flying was dangerous, that someone had to stay home and take care of things. I put down my logbook, pressed the wrinkles out of every one of his captain's uniforms, and spent seven years living by his flight schedule. Only now did I finally understand. It wasn't that he didn't want to take anyone flying. He just didn't want to take me. What made it even more absurd was that the night Skyler first flew through the clouds, I was alone in a hospital, losing our baby. I called him over a dozen times. At three in the morning, he finally called back, his voice flat and indifferent. "I just took Lark through the clouds. Next time something comes up, give me a heads-up." I put the wings pin back exactly where I found it, then pulled the crumpled ultrasound printout from the bottom of the drawer and tucked it inside the logbook that had been gathering dust for seven years. This time, I wasn't going to wait for him to look back. He convinced me to leave the pilot's seat, then turned around and put another woman in the sky. So I would leave him and take back the sky that had always been mine.

After deciding to leave Azurea and follow Clara Miller to Northwood City, I was cast out by my parents. "That girl is an orphan–what can she possibly give you? If you choose a life of hardship now, you’ll spend the rest of your life suffering! Once you walk out that door, don’t bother coming back!" I left anyway. For five years, I watched Clara rise step by step, becoming one of Northwood City’s most respected psychologists. Just as she had promised, she gave me a home. As the New Year approached, I planned to take her back to Azurea to reconcile with my parents. However, just before boarding the plane, she abandoned me again–this time for a depressed patient threatening to take his own life. She let go of my hand, her eyes full of pain. "Julian Vance… he’s just like I used to be–alone, with no one to rely on. If I don’t go, he’ll jump. I’m sorry. Just this once. I’ll catch the next flight and meet you there." Then she turned and ran toward the exit without hesitation. I stood there, staring at the two plane tickets in my hand. She had saved everyone who needed redemption. Everyone… except me. Slowly, I tore up her ticket. Then I walked alone toward the security gate and turned off my phone. What Clara did not know was this: Some journeys home, once missed, are gone forever.

When I heard my younger brother was bringing his girlfriend home, I took annual leave, bought gifts, and flew back for the occasion. The moment I arrived, I found my luggage dumped carelessly outside the front door. My parents looked surprised to see me, but quickly recovered. "Ryan's girlfriend only wants to marry an only child, so we've been telling people Ryan has no siblings. You need to stay somewhere else for now and introduce yourself as a distant cousin from now on. "Don't blame us. Everything in this family will belong to your brother eventually. A daughter leaves when she marries." As they spoke, Ryan tossed the last of my belongings outside as though they were trash. "Finally. All that junk was an eyesore." My fingers slowly tightened around my purse, which still held the heavy gold bracelet I had bought as a welcome gift. Fine. Since I was only a distant cousin, they could stop living in my house. I turned around and pulled out my phone. "Hello. I'd like to sell the house in Maple Gardens. List it twenty thousand below market."