Chapter 2

Erika's pov:

My room was now stripped of its usual vibrant clutter, it felt oddly spacious and eerily quiet. The once colorful walls, adorned with posters of my favorite band and photos of cherished memories, were bare except for a few remnants of tape and tiny pinholes. My desk, where I had spent countless hours studying, was now cleared, its surface spotless but for a lone pen lying in the corner.

The closet door hung ajar, revealing a few stray hangers clinking softly against each other in the otherwise empty space. In the corner, a small cardboard box labeled "memories" sat sealed, filled with the last few personal items I couldn't part with just yet. The room, now void of my presence, echoed with a sense of finality, each empty space a silent testament to my departure and the new chapter I am about to begin.

I stood in front of the narrow, dusty path that led from my home to the main road, a lump forming in my throat as I glanced back at the only place I've ever known. The red-tiled roof, weathered by countless Okinawan summers, seemed to glow in the early morning light. The lush green of the surrounding hills framed the scene like a picture, and for a moment, I wished I could freeze time.

Mama stood a few steps behind me, arms crossed and eyes fixed somewhere in the distance, avoiding my gaze. The silence between us was heavy, filled with all the words left unsaid.

"Do you have everything?" Mama finally asked, her voice clipped and businesslike.

I nodded, hefting my backpack higher on my shoulder. "Yes, I double-checked."

Mama's eyes flickered to the small suitcase at my feet. "Good. You need to stay organized over there. Don't let things get out of control."

"I know, mama," I replied, keeping my tone even. I know mama's stern demeanor was a mask for the worry and sadness she felt, but it didn't make her cold goodbye any easier.

A car horn honked in the distance, signaling the arrival of the taxi that would take me to the airport. I turned to face her mother fully, steeling myself for the final farewell.

"I'll call you when I land in Connecticut," I said, trying to bridge the emotional chasm between us.

Mama nodded curtly, her eyes now glistening despite her efforts to appear indifferent. "Just make sure you do. And remember what I told you about staying focused. College is not a vacation."

I bit back a sigh, "I remember. I'll be fine."

There was a long pause, the weight of our strained relation pressing down on us both. Finally, mama stepped forward, her rigid posture softening just a fraction. "Take care of yourself, Erika."

Erika nodded, feeling a swell of conflicting emotions—relief, sadness, and a touch of resentment. "I will, mama."

With that, I turned and walked towards the waiting taxi, each step feeling heavier than the last. The driver loaded her suitcase into the trunk as I slid into the back seat, the familiar scent of the village mingling with the new car smell, creating an odd aura of dislocation.

As the taxi pulled away, I looked back one last time. My mother stood at the edge of the path, a solitary figure against the backdrop of our home. Mama raised a hand in a stiff wave, and Erika mirrored the gesture, the distance between them growing with every passing second.

The ride to the airport was a blur of passing landscapes and swirling thoughts. My mind flitted between memories of home and the uncertainties of the future. I knew this move was the right decision for me, a chance to pursue my dreams and carve out my own path. Yet, the strain in my relationship with my mother left a lingering ache in my heart.

At the airport, the bustling crowd and the flurry of activity were a stark contrast to the quiet village I was leaving behind. I navigated the check-in process with unexpected efficiency. I found my gate and settled into a seat, the weight of my journey settling around me like a comforting, albeit heavy, cloak.

As the plane took off, I watched the island recede into the distance, a tiny dot in the vast expanse of the ocean. I surprisingly did not feel homesick.

The flight to Connecticut was long, giving me plenty of time to reflect. I thought about mama's stern warnings, my own determination, and the dreams that had led me to this moment. I knew the road ahead wouldn't be easy, but I was ready to face whatever challenges came my way.

For now, I focused on the journey ahead, my heart filled with hope and a quiet resolve. I was leaving my home behind, but I carried its lessons and memories with me, guiding me as I stepped into my future.