**Diary Entry**
Mums constant nagging about how little I help with my sick brother drove me to run away after school. She always made me feel guilty, but that afternoon, I grabbed my things and left without looking back.
Emily sat on a bench in Hyde Park, watching the autumn leaves swirl in the crisp breeze. Her phone buzzed againanother message from her mother, Margaret: *”Youve abandoned us, Emily! Williams condition is worsening, and youre carrying on as if nothings wrong!”* Each word cut deep, but Emily didnt reply. She couldnt. Guilt, anger, and sorrow twisted inside her, pulling her back to the home shed left five years ago. At eighteen, shed made a choice that split her life into *before* and *after*. Now, at twenty-three, she still wondered if shed done the right thing.
Emily had grown up in her little brothers shadow. William was only three when doctors diagnosed him with severe epilepsy. From then on, their house became a hospital ward. Their mother, Margaret, devoted herself entirely to himmedications, doctors, endless tests. Their father couldnt handle the strain and walked out, leaving Margaret alone with two children. At seven, Emily faded into the background. Her childhood vanished under the weight of Williams needs. *”Emily, help me with William,”* *”Emily, keep quietdont upset him,”* *”Emily, not now, its not the time.”* She waited, year after year, watching her own dreams slip further away.
By her teens, Emily had learned to be “useful.” She cooked, cleaned, and looked after William while Mum raced between hospitals. School friends invited her out, but she always refusedthere was always something to do at home. Margaret would say, *”Youre my rock, Emily,”* but the words left her cold. She saw the way her mother looked at Williamfull of love and despairand knew shed never earn that same gaze. She wasnt a daughter; she was a carer, there to ease the familys burden. Deep down, she loved William, but that love was tangled with exhaustion and resentment.
In sixth form, Emily felt like a ghost. Her classmates talked about uni, parties, futures, while she could only think of medical bills and her mothers tears. One evening, she came home to find Margaret sobbing: *”William needs a new treatment, and we cant afford it! You have to help, Emilyget a job after A-levels!”* In that moment, something inside her snapped. She looked at her mother, at William, at the walls that had suffocated her for years, and realised: if she stayed, shed disappear forever. It hurt, but she couldnt be who they needed anymore.
After her exams, Emily packed a rucksack. She left a note: *”Mum, I love you, but I have to go. Forgive me.”* With £400 saved from odd jobs, she bought a train ticket to London. That night, as the carriage rattled away, she cried, feeling like a traitor. But in her chest was something newhope. She wanted to live, to study, to breathe without hospital corridors haunting her. In London, she rented a bed in student halls, worked as a waitress, enrolled in night classes. For the first time, she felt like a person, not just a cog in someone elses life.
Margaret never forgave her. The first few months, she called, screaming, pleading: *”Youre selfish! Williams suffering without you!”* Her voice tore through Emily like glass. She sent money when she could but refused to return. Over time, the calls grew fewer, but every message dripped with blame. Emily knew William was worse, that her mother was exhausted, but she couldnt carry that weight anymore. She wanted to love her brother as a sister, not a nurse. Yet every time she read her mothers words, she wondered: *”If Id stayed, who would I be now?”*
These days, Emily has her own lifea job, friends, plans for a masters degree. But the past still tugs at her. She thinks of William, his smile on good days. She loves her mother, but she cant forget the childhood she lost. Margaret still writes, and every message echoes the home Emily fled. She doesnt know if shell ever go back, explain herself, make peace. But one things certain: the day that train carried her away from Manchester, she saved herself. And that truth, bitter as it is, gives her the strength to keep going.
**Lesson:** Sometimes leaving isnt betrayalits survival. You can love someone and still choose yourself.
