Beautiful Misery

1. RUNNING FROM MISERY

Trickles of ice cold water seared my trembling skin, biting my flesh with its ruthless assault. Reminding me that I'm not alone...I'm never alone. Counting the wall of small blue tiles—fitted in a pathetic attempt to replicate a mosaic of the ocean—I systematically went through my familiar motions to ward off yet another panic attack. Curling into myself, I breathed heavily against my bare knees. After having spent several nights in cheap motels, I began to notice the subtle details that gifted each patron with an eerily depressing atmosphere.

The tasteless bulk-buy mints staged on every eggshell coloured pillow. Mini fridge's dwindling in over priced hard liquor. Old Cathode ray tube television sets decorated with hideous doilies, distracting us from the half a dozen channels playing B grade black and white films. Dingy showers with low water pressure set to only one temperature, negative zero degrees. Two flickering lightbulbs—one glimmer away from giving out—lighting the shoebox they call a deluxe room. At least they're consistent.

Fuck, even death would shy away from this place.

The rapid pounding of my heartbeat against the confines of my ribcage slowly began to calm, my laboured breaths falling into a familiar rhythm. Sweeping my tongue along the several droplets of water dribbling from my lips I shakily staggered to my feet. My limbs were achingly stiff from the near paralytic nightmares that kept me caged within the horrors of my past. Fisting the slimy shower curtain, I yanked it back. Stepping over the small bathtub's soap scummed rim I stared at my reflection in the stained mirror above the tiny basin.

'You want this, stop fighting me-you want this!'

Curling my fingers around the basin's edges, I glared at my reflection. The sound of Mr Hale's growl rang in my ears, mocking me, taunting me...reminding me; he's always here.

'Fucking bitch...you little cock tease...'

Wincing from the memories clawing to the surface of my mind, I gripped the cool porcelain harder. I was losing the fight to suppress them...I was surrendering, again.

'I'm always here...'

Feeling the sharp jabs of his index finger against my temple I abruptly shoved away from the basin. Slamming shut the the doors in my mind, leading to pure darkness, I snapped back to reality just barely saving my sanity. "Gia?" Macy's sleepy rasp echoed through the thin door I'd haphazardly pushed ajar two hours ago. Stripping out of my drenched singlet and night shorts I wrapped the small towel, hanging from the lopsided drying rack bolted to the wall, around my shivering torso. Pulling the door back I padded across the floor—covered with a rough industrial brand carpet—to the slab of concrete they had the portentous audacity to call a bed. "Did you get any sleep?" She asked gently, lowering the bedsheets as she brushed her finger through her sleep tussled hair.

"No." I managed to choke out a reply, swallowing past the lump in my throat, the aftershock of my nightmares always left me feeling reserved, closed off...miserable. Macy had become well accustomed to the signs and understood not to push for anymore.

"Let's hit the road early today, I'm feeling this motel about as much as the last four." Shuddering dramatically she pushed out of bed to crouch in front of one of the smaller suitcases she'd insisted on bringing with us. Dragging the zipper open noisily she pulled out a fresh set of clothes and her flamboyant toiletry bag. "The shower any warmer in this one?" Shaking my head, no, I dug through my duffle bag. "That's cool, it's not like I've been having fantasies about steaming hot showers or anything." She groaned shuffling into the cubicle that encased both the toilet and bathroom. "Fuck..." She grumbled. Based on the faucet's ungodly squeaking, that preceded her cursing, I assumed she'd discovered the disturbingly low water pressure in this dilapidated shit hole.

Linking together the three metal hooks on my plain maroon bra, I slid a pair of plain black panties up my thighs. Stepping into a pair of distressed, washed blue skinnies I pulled a grey, long-sleeved cotton shirt over my head. Yanking my arms through the maroon sleeves I took a seat on the lumpy edge of the mattress. Rolling my sock over my toes, I slipped each of my feet into a pair of warn Converse sneakers. "I swear motels are where souls go to die!" Macy hissed tossing her damp towel into a dark corner of the room. Unclipping her long hair, she skilfully brushed her fingers through each silky strand. "Ready?" She huffed, perching her hands on her narrow waist.

"Yeah, lets go." Zipping up my bag, I pulled the double straps over my shoulder. Packing up her suitcase, Macy dragged the wheeled bag behind us as we left the seedy room- bedsheets frighteningly as strewn as we'd found them. Walking down the row of half-a-dozen beat up cars and pick-up trucks I sidled up to my utility vehicle or ute. The second-hand repair yard I'd found it at had mentioned it was favoured in Australia.

"Hand the keys over babe. You haven't slept in days." Macy pointed out, her tone left no room for argument. Dropping the keys into her extended palm I circled around the front and climbed through the passenger side door. Hauling my duffle bag into the back, I slumped against the threadbare leather seat and sighed heavily. Lifting her bag into the back she jumped in and smiled brightly. Keying the ignition, she strapped on her seatbelt as she reversed. Macy's near miss with a battered Mazda, as we drove out of the complex, didn't even enlist a blink from either of us—I doubted any new dints or scratches would go noticed by the owner either way.

Heading towards the highway I made an effort to contribute to the conversation we were having. At times my attention faltered and I found myself studying the blur of cars speeding past us on the lanes to my right. Drawing my knees close to my chest I considered how far we were from what I'd always know as home, East LA was a blur almost like the vehicles whizzing past...unfortunately the hellish memories remained fresh and imprinted in my brain like a stain, a branding that owned me. We'd been on the road for five days, stopping at shabby motels to sleep and shower. I could no longer deny that this was exactly what it looked like, running, I was running. From my past, my mistakes, my fears...and the evil I'd let into my life.

"I haven't seen Joey in forever, God I miss him." She sighed.  "Seeing each other every six months is torture..." She whined. It still astounded me to no end that Macy and Joey had made it this long, despite the distance. Relationships are hard enough without the added obstacles they'd faced. "I can't believe he has his own place now." She was beaming and that managed to bring a genuine smile to my lips. I was happy for her, for them. "Okay so he shares it with his cousin but that doesn't count." Chuckling softly at her clarification I tilted my head to face her.

"I don't know about this, Mace...I mean won't it be weird shacking up with your boyfriend and his cousin?" Toying nervously with with my tattered shoe lace as it came loose, I debated the potential for how uncomfortable things could get. Joey and I had gotten along fine on the two separate occasions we'd met, but this cousin of his...was a stranger to me. Nightmares, panic attacks and paranoid tendencies aside, I'd never met the man. That alone would be probable cause for apprehension. "This is kind of a big step in your relationship...I don't want to fuck this up for you, again." Cringing at even the thought of keeping Joey and Macy apart any longer I internally punished my own naivety, the afflictions of my past had forced her to choose between her loyalties as my best-friend and commitment to the love of her life.

"Stop, Gia. Joey knows you're heading out with me. He offered before I even had the chance to make my demands." Swooning, she grinned. "He know's I'm not about to move to a new city to shack up with my boyfriend when my best-friend needs me." Lifting one hand from the faded leather of my steering wheel, she theatrically flicked her strawberry blonde curls over her shoulder before holding out her pinkie and wiggling it about. "I have that man wrapped around this perfectly manicured little finger of mine..." She sang with a pitch to her voice that amplified the trophy wife persona she often enjoyed mocking.

Macy was basically that perfect mix of girly-girly and sophisticated independent woman that drove guys crazy. She was breathtaking on a bad day and something else all together when she put in effort. Her beauty was both every man's best dream and worst nightmare. Headstrong, stubborn and sexy. The only thing that shocked me more than the prevalence of their relationship was how Joey had survived my best-friend.

"It feels like I'm intruding..." Trailing off into silence, I returned my focus to the shoe lace tautly wrapped around my finger.

"Babe, it's just till you get sorted." Pouting she gave me a pointed look. "Besides, we both know as soon as a room opens up in the dorms, you'll ditch me." Glaring at me quickly she returned her attention to the four-wheeler cutting lanes as though it were an Olympic sport. Tensing I eyed it carefully, it looked familiar. "It's only fair that you make up for your neglect of my sensitive emotions by spending as much time as humanly possible with me." Sighing her eyes flicked to mine briefly before pinning the four-wheeler again. "I'm going to hate not living two doors down from you." She admitted, tears welling in her pale green eyes.

Pouting as we fell back into a comfortable silence, she swiftly merged between the two furthest lanes, leaving the asshole in the four-wheeler in a cloud of pollution—informing me that a tune up was long overdue. Resting my temple against the cool glass window, I closed my eyes, resolving to idle between napping and taking in the "scenic" ambiance of the highway. My brain's reluctance to subdue the constant torment my life had been for the past year kept me in a continuous state of mental and physical lassitude.

Because sleep, came plagued by the debilitating memories— that I had no doubt would haunt me till the day I die—of Mr Hale's endless abuse. And consciousness, brought the striking horror of the possibility that he will find me again.

Jerking awake, I glanced at the empty seat beside me. The distinct stench of petroleum drifted into the vehicle, awakening my senses further. "We almost there?" I croaked unattractively as Macy climbed back into the ute carrying a bag full of snacks.

"Almost, we're about thirty minutes out." She explained, planting the bag in my lap. Nodding, I scrounged around in the bag for ice cream. Frowning I turned back to face my best friend who should have, by now, known that my idea of a road-trip snack is a tub of ice cream. "Their fridge was broken so that shit melted hours ago." Glaring at her skeptically I fell back into my seat. "I'm serious." Rolling my eyes, I glanced at the side mirror.

Macy's phone rang loud enough to be an alarm, pulling it out of her front pocket she held the small device between her ear and shoulder. Pulling the car into one of the three lots beside the air pumps she exhaled, clearly exasperated. "I'm good daddy, we just stopped to get some petrol." Closing her eyes frustratedly, she toyed with the ends of her hair. "Yes we're being safe, we've taken enough rests." Macy found her father's overbearing fussing a nuisance, I on the other hand couldn't help but find it comforting. You appreciate the love and care a parent has for their child when you grow up never having experienced the same from your own.

Smiling warmly at the rapid fire questions, Mr Taylor was no doubt worriedly, sending her way I lent my attention to my side mirror once more. I watched as a frumpy woman hooked the petrol hose back into its port before wobbling around her Toyota Corolla and towards the small kiosk type shop. "God, it's like I'll be five for the rest of my life!" Macy groaned tossing her phone into the glovebox rather roughly.

"Mace, your parents just love you like crazy. They've watched over you for nineteen years...there's going to be an adjustment period, especially with their baby girl moving across the country to live with her boyfriend." I tried to explain, wishing she could see the love I could in their concern. "Shit, I can't even believe they're letting you do this." Nibbling her lower lip she fluttered her eyelashes innocently in my direction.

Tensing I lowered my feet from the ratty upholstery, of my seat, in order to better read the guilty expression on her face. I could have sworn that I felt my heart drop. "Your parents did agree to this...right?" I just barely rasped, unable to swallow away the dryness in my mouth. Panic dawned on me as she tilted her head to give me a lopsided grin. "Mace..." I warned. Combing my fingers through my hair, I leaned forward so that I could breathe. "This is the part where you say; of course I told my over protective parents about my plans to move across the country and live with my boyfriend, Gia."

"Well...sort of-" glaring at her, I shook my head. "-you know my father, Gia. He'd chain me to the goddamn house if he found out I'm moving in with Joey!" She quickly defended, gripping at the steering tighter than necessary.

"Mace." I scolded, suddenly more reserved about our decision to move out here.

"My father is dramatic about everything." She groaned. "He practically dismissed what we have for a one time fling. He point blank said that I'm not in love and Joey just wants to defile me, since nobody can "fall in love" within a week-" I could see her gearing up to go on the defensive and swiftly cut her short before she could emotionally sway me.

"He's not wrong, Mace! We don't even know for sure what he was doing in East LA." Violently unclipping my seatbelt I moved to shove open the door.

"He was there for his cousin; Rayne was working the LA circuit, you know this! I don't need a lecture from you too!" Pulling on my arm she gave my steering wheel a short break from her assault, before returning her lean fingers to wring the groaning leather. With a sigh, she looked dead ahead. "It's hard to explain...when you feel it, when you find him...you just know, Gia." Smiling softly she wore a unique glow exclusively reserved for when she thought about Joey.

Squeezing her shoulder I reassured her with my eyes that I would see this through no matter what. Macy had supported me through the darkest moments of my life, at a time when I would have willingly embraced death in order to escape the horrors of my reality. I owed her this. Softening at that she gave my poor steering wheel the reprieve that it was in desperate need of. "You have to tell them eventually." I offered. Nodding, she started the engine—excited once more. Smiling with her I leaned back into my seat, my eyes drifting to the side mirror yet again. Stiffening as the image of a familiar vehicle, pulling into the petrol pump where the Toyota Corolla had moments earlier been, filled the small glass mirror attached to my door. "The four-wheeler..." I breathed, feeling the fine hairs along the base of my neck spike and my skin crawl. My subconscious reprimanded my foolish decision to rest and failure to stay alert.

How did he find me? Had he been following me all along...lurking in the shadows and biding his time till I let my guard down again? He was playing another game—he hadn't fled, he'd simply camouflaged his existence—waiting till he had me at a disadvantage. My heart hammered against my ribcage...screaming for me to hide. Glancing around frantically I panicked.

Too many windows... He can see me!

There's nowhere to hide.

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Target audience: Intended for a mature audience, above eighteen as the content includes; coarse language, sexual references, drug and alcohol use, abuse and violence.

Bio: My sister introduced me to the inspirations behind many of my favourite movies, close to three years ago— since I've been reading anything I can get my hands on. Around this time I found my way onto a popular writing platform where readers and writers can connect—Wattpad. Trying my hand at writing I found people are asking for more.

Platforms: Wattpad, Radish Fiction and Prose.

Education: Having completed my primary and secondary schooling in Australia, I'm now on my final year of a Bachelor of Arts— majoring in criminal justice and Italian— before I complete my graduate diploma in education.

Experience: Payed experience includes Radish Fiction and recently the Wattpad Futures program.

Personality/ writing style: My readers love me for my sass and sarcasm. I'm quite headstrong and my female leads often depict this quality with their spitfire attitudes and stubborn nature. My writing style varies depending on the book and characters, I prefer first person, past tense when it comes to romance dominant novels but often turn to third person for more complex plot lines.

Hobbies/ likes: As far as hobbies go I'm not too adventurous, I've spent most of my university experience studying and working. I would say karaoke qualifies as a hobby, as does dancing— I excel at neither. I enjoy playing hockey, netball, basketball and touch...but only to discredit accusations of being a couch potato.

Location: Brisbane, Australia.