Beautiful Misery |1

2. SHACKLED TO MISERY

Every battle can be won. You can rise up against any oppressor—make a stand. You can fight and conquer any enemy. You can lead an army into war—become legendary. You can even run and hide when the cards are not in your favour— live to fight another day. One of the very few people who'd cared for me in my life, had taught me this when I was young.

But, every battle cannot be won.

You cannot rise up against your memories—they suppress you before you can make a stand. You cannot fight the fear when it has a perpetual hold on you—the horrors keep you shackled. You can't run or hide—your memories are bound to you...anywhere you go, they follow.

If only you could wipe the slate clean, break free from the shackles that keep you chained and defeated...if only you could forget.

Coiling under the limited cover of my dashboard, I rocked back and forth feverishly I shook my head, imploring someone to make it stop. Praying for anyone to save me. With Mr Hale's arrival came unbearable torture. For defying him. For fighting him. For running, I had to be punished.

Wincing at the way my body ached in memory of his perception of how one should discipline disobedience. I drove my feet further into the floorboards. He was a demon, disturbingly captivated by the art of torture.

"Gia..." The pounding of blood against my ear drums cleared abruptly, allowing Macy's worried voice—which had previously been a backdrop to my panic—to march to the forefront of my senses. "Gia! Fuck-look at me!"

"No!" I screamed, clawing past her to my door which she'd foolishly pulled open. "C-close it!" I stammered attempting to grab at the leathery padded door handle.

Cupping my face forcefully, she shook me. "Stop Gia. Look at me." She commanded. Stiffening, I shakily pointed towards the four-wheeler as its door swung open. Sinking back into the safety of the small space beneath my dash board I shook violently. "Gia, it's not him. Look." Opening the door wider, she gestured towards the four-wheeler.

Gripping my wrists, she yanked me forward harshly. "Look." She spoke authoritatively, knowing I'd obey. I could barely breathe. Tilting my head hesitantly I watched as a young guy with dreads winked in our direction before climbing back into the drivers seat. Skidding away from the petrol pump, he sped out of the station.  The oxygen left my lungs in a rush, relief flooding through my body and calming my mind. Falling against Macy's chest, I cried into her shirt.

Loosening her grip on my wrists she wrapped her arms around me, holding me closer. "He's going to find me...I can feel it." I whispered through a muffle of cries. Brushing her fingers through my hair she gently soothed me.

"He's gone, Gia." Her tone was much softer, she was back to herself and no longer exploiting my fear of intimidation. "That son of a bitch ran. My parents are the only ones who know where we're going." She explained calmly, keeping me in her embrace. "He's never going to find you, let alone hurt you, again." She promised, hate forcing the words to grate in her throat. Urging me back onto my seat she returned to the driver's seat. "This is a new start for you Gia, don't let that fucker win." That was the last either of us spoke, pulling out of the station Macy followed the navigation app on her phone.

Glancing at her I cringed, somehow I'd managed to fuck things up for her yet again, her mood had deflated significantly. Within a few short minutes I'd sucked her excitement dry. Moving across the country to be with Joey hadn't been an impromptu decision on Macy's part, her initial plans had been to move out here during the mid-semester break. Within the first week of starting college I'd gotten myself mixed up with a monster of man...in fact it would be an insult to the entire male population if I referred to him as a man at all, he was an animal.