Great Escape - Luke Hemmings AU (IN PROGRESS)

1- Sydney

If you had told me this time last year that I would be packing my bags and moving halfway across the country, back to Sydney where I grew up, I would never have believed you. Six months ago, I lost the boy I thought I was going to marry to cancer, I gave up on my studies, started drinking more than I should have. Basically, I was spiralling which apparently was obvious to everyone around me except myself. In order to make my worried parents feel better I agreed to take some time away from education, leave the city that harbored so many bad memories for me, and move back to Sydney to re-evaluate my life.

It seemed like someone had taken a remote and hit 'rewind' on my life.

I stepped into the airport lounge and scanned the surroundings for my mum, who was looking back at me as if I was a ghost. I suppose I sort of am in a way, the whole vision I had for my life had gone down the drain in the space of mere months, and now everything I do feels like I'm learning to be me again. Whatever that means.

"Oh, Daisy!" my mum gasped, pulling me in for a hug. Her hair was significantly greyer than I'd remembered and she looked thinner, too.

"Hi, Mum"

"How was the flight? Are feeling okay?"

"It was fine mum, and so am I," I tried my best to conjure up an authentic smile or else she'd worry even more. It turns out that having a mum who worries so much about you can be both wonderful and very, very exhausting.

"You know it's my job to worry about you, don't you?"

"I just wish you would take some time off sometimes mum, I am almost twenty,"

"Yes, and two months ago I had a phone call from the hospital asking me to pick you up because you drank yourself half to death, Daisy."

She had a point, but I still hated the fact that I was being treated like a child. It wasn't like I was an irresponsible teenager on a bender. My boyfriend of three years had lost a long battle with cancer and I was doing all I could to cope. Maybe I didn't always make the best choices, but it's hard when your life is suddenly turned upside down and the world expects you to carry on.

"I know mum, and I said I was sorry. I'm here aren't I?"

She sighed and tucked a silvery strand of hair behind her ear. I could tell she wanted to say something, about how irresponsible I've been and how I need to use this chance to turn things around. She ultimately decided against it, perhaps realising that I didn't need to hear that right now.

"Did you look at that apartment I emailed you about?" she took my suitcase and began walking towards the exit.

"You sent me hundreds mum, but yes, I found one that I can move into,"

She seemed to genuinely smile for the first time since I'd been back. I tried my best not to be offended by this, although I suppose I've become a source of anxiety for her the last few months.

When we reached the car she stopped and loaded my things into the boot. I climbed into the front seat and looked out of the dusty window at the Sydney sky. Even though I had only been gone two years, it felt like a different city. Last time I was here, I was a different person.

Do you ever wish that you could take back time, just for a little bit? What I wouldn't give to be lying in the Sydney sun without a care in the world right now, before everything changed.

"Ready, sweetie?"

I was so lost in a daydream that I'd barely noticed my mum get into the car.

"Sure, sorry," I felt that forced smile creep on to my face again and hoped it was somewhat convincing.

"If you're not okay, we can stop and talk about it,"

"Please Mum, I really appreciate you trying to help, but I just don't want to think about things for a while," I felt bad, but I knew I'd feel worse if I reminded myself of what I was trying to get away from so soon after I'd landed.

"Of course, I just want you to know you can talk about things," she looked at me hesitantly, like she was afraid I would snap.

"I do,"

I placed my hand on hers half-heartedly. It was almost as if I was the one looking after her when it should have been the other way around.

We drove the rest of the way in silence, only talking for me to give her directions.

Of course I wasn't so selfish as to ignore the effect this had on my Mum. She had definitely gotten skinny while I was away, her hair grey and thin and her eyes dark with tiredness. I felt terrible that she had to worry about me all over again, like I was a child who couldn't look after herself. I wished she could switch off every once in a while, for her own sake. It must be so hard to constantly worry about things, even harder to find out your daughter has gone off the rails halfway across the country and you can't be there to tell her it will get better.

We pulled up outside the apartment which, admittedly, I hadn't paid much attention to choosing. It looked nice enough, the brickwork faded with time but otherwise in good condition. It was strange to think that this place was home for now.

"Well, I suppose this is me then," I tried my best to sound enthusiastic, but instead it came out like a question.

"If you don't like it, your old bedroom is always available,"

I knew exactly what my mum was trying to do.

"I need some independence, Mum. You can trust me to take care of myself while I'm here, I promise,"

"I know, I know. Make sure you eat some fresh vegetables every day and drink lots of water. You can call me if you need anything. And for God's sake Daisy, just stay away from the hospital," she attempted a smile which was almost as transparent as my own.

"Thank you Mum, I love you,"

"I love you too, sweetie,"

I unloaded my things from the boot of the car and watched her drive away. I hoped she would be able not to worry the whole time I was here, maybe I would call her later and tell her that everything was fine, and I was fine, and it would all be fine.

But first I had the task of making this place a home despite barely knowing where I was or what I was going to make of my life here. I had received the keys in the post in advance, all I had to do was walk in and unpack but it seemed momentous somehow. In some ways it felt like I was cheating on everything that had happened, like if I started fresh and moved on with my life it wasn't fair on everything and everyone I was leaving behind. I knew how stupid that sounded, but I stood outside with my suitcase nonetheless, unable to go inside.

I finally steeled myself after a few minutes and decided that once I was inside, half of the battle would be won. The entrance was small and well looked after, with a wooden staircase in the centre leading up to the apartments and a row of letter boxes either side marked with numbers. I was 63.

When I stepped inside, it was smaller than I had imagined from the pictures, although I only glanced over them. To the left was a kitchen area, functional and large enough for me to cook for myself. The living area was square and plain, leading into the bedroom. The bedroom was functional again, a large double window placed over the bed looking out over the city. If I peered carefully enough, I could just about see the ocean drawing out and then crashing against the shore. My own little piece of Sydney. My mind wandered back to university before I caught myself and threw the thoughts away.

It didn't take long to unpack as I didn't have much. A small amount of personal items, bedding, kitchen utensils and crockery, towels. The only luxury I allowed myself was a small keyboard that I'd had since I was a teenager. I was hoping to get back into writing music and tinkering on the keys as a distraction while I was here, an outlet for my thoughts.

Mum always spoke about how important it was to have an outlet.