Today’s word of the chapter: ‘Phantasmagoric’. Definition: (Adjective) having a fantastic or deceptive appearance, as something in a dream or created by the imagination.
WARNING: This chapter is very, very vulgar and I apologise in advance if I upset anyone!
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Chapter Fourteen
I found my parents seated across from each other at the dining room table. My mother was aimlessly stirring a bowl of oatmeal and my father was staring at her like she might break. I couldn’t blame her is she did.
Immediately, I noticed the box of chocolates that sat beside the pink and blue bowl of her high-fibre breakfast. According to my phone, it was well past ten AM and he had somehow managed to buy her a gift even though it was a Sunday morning. Stores tended to open between nine and nine-thirty which meant that he must have arrived back home not long ago.
The minute my father noticed my presence, he jumped to his feet and pulled a box out of his back pocket. “Sadie, listen –,” he started.
I knew what he would say next but I didn’t care to hear him. I was not my mother. “Stop.” He halted a few steps before me and began stretching his arm so that I could view what was within the box. “Don’t,” I growled.
His arm retracted and he pushed the box into his front pocket.
As I stared at him, a memory of my childhood floated to the surface. I was no more than six years old but the event had been so traumatising that it was engrained in my memory to this day. I recall playing in our small backyard with a stray kitten that my mother had let me keep. It was an undernourished but adorable little animal that was all grey with a large white spot on its nose.
My father had stepped out onto the lawn and I remember running up to him with the kitten held delicately within my infantile grip.
I remember him pulling the kitten out of my hands and stroking its tiny head with one index finger as his other hand slowly closed around its neck.
I remember trying to tell him to stop and screaming out of pure shock and disbelief as he twisted its tiny head.
I remember the sound of its neck snapping.
I remember how he just laughed afterwards.
My father wasn’t an alcoholic.
He wasn’t a drug addict.
My father – my own flesh and blood – was a psychopath.
I knew why he was attempting to give me whatever gift lay hidden within the box. He was attempting to win me over so that he was on good terms with my mother. He didn’t want to lose her because, in his own weird way, he loved her too.
It is also why he had forced me to promise not to tell her about the kitten and what he did to it all those many years ago. I was told to convince my mother that the animal ran away while, in fact, he just took its lifeless body and buried it in the corner of our garden. If my mother knew... if she knew that he had killed a helpless animal right before the eyes of his six-year-old daughter then she would not be seated at that dining room table right now.
How could I possibly be related to a human being like him?
“Will you hear me out?” my father started.
“It’s a free fucking world,” I barked.
I saw a flash of red hot anger within his blue-green eyes but as quickly as it developed, it was wiped away. “I didn’t mean to slap you. I just lost control of my emotions and took it out on your mother and you.” His gaze shifted up to my mother who was still toying with her oatmeal and hadn’t glanced at me for even a second since I arrived. “I promise you, Sadie. I will never do it again.”
I nodded as though to show that I understood him and saw that his face softened and lost some of its anxiety. “Can you do us a favour?”
“I’ll do anything,” he answered quickly.
“Do you think you can stay somewhere else for a few days? Just until things cool down around here, please.” My voice was monotonous but I tried to be as polite as was possible because he was my father and I knew that he would be angered by any lack of respect from his daughter. I simply could not stand a replay of last night and wanted him to be as calm as was possible.
I was thinking about the simplest and most effective way to get the maniac standing before me out of the house.
“Is that really what you want?” Our matching eyes locked as he attempted to gauge my emotions.
“Yes.” My father turned around and I leaned sideways to look past his body at my mother who had set down her spoon and was staring at him with a blank expression. “Sadie is right.”
He cleared his throat. “Okay.”
I watched as he marched up to the short hallway that led to the front door and disappeared from my view. A second later, I heard the resonating bang of wood against wood as he slammed the door closed.
“Sadie!” My mother shot to her feet. “You have to go pack a bag.”
“What?” I stared at her in shock. “Why?”
“He’ll be back in a few hours and we cannot be here when he is,” she responded rapidly. “I have a feeling this will be worse than usual.”
I stared around the room frantically. “Where the hell will we go?”
“Just pack a bag and stop asking so many Goddamn questions, okay?” She brushed past me. “Listen to me for once.”
I stared after her as she jogged up the stairs at the other end of the room and vanished from my line of sight. When I was finally able to comprehend what she said, I sprung to action and followed her up our stairs that curved around such that our bedrooms sat right on top of the kitchen and living room.
I darted into my room that was the first on the right and stood before my wardrobe. Everything I owned was rather uniform so I wasn’t exactly spoiled for choice as I pulled out a duffel bag and started filling it with big shirts, basketball shorts, sweat pants and various jumpers.
My mother whizzed past my door with a duffel bag of her own possessions and I followed shortly after.
“Where are we going?” I asked again as we slid into her car. “Don’t we need money?”
My mother stared at me. “Will you just trust me this one time?”
I nodded and began fastening my seatbelt.
She stepped down on the accelerator and I was pushed forward into my seatbelt as she swerved around the car parked ahead of us. After a similar experience like last night, my father had bought my mother a silver Mercedes convertible. It barely made a dent in his finances because his law firm was rather successful and wouldn’t suffer in the least if he spent a small fraction of its earnings.
We drove for around half an hour through winding streets and down foreign roads until finally stopping before the gate of a four star hotel that was locally known for its brilliant customer service. Although, the fact that it was so highly rated also meant that it was rather expensive so I hadn’t the slightest idea about how my mother expected to afford it.
The gates slid open and my mother waved at a guard as we proceeded through. He raised his hand and nodded politely. She lowered her foot onto the accelerator and progressed forward. The hotel was widely known for accepting guests only for dinner or access to its swimming pool which meant that it was unnecessary for my mother and I to be questioned about our reason to visit.
She found a free parking space and reversed into the lot. I watched silently as she fumbled with various parts of the car before it finally fell silent. She sighed heavily. “We’re going to have to stay here for a while,” she announced.
“I guessed,” I responded drily.
She nodded, pulled her door handle and – without waiting to see if I was following – stepped out. I opened my door with caution so as not to hit the car beside ours that looked to be rather new and polished. I then squeezed through the opening, shut the door and shuffled backwards so that I could retrieve my duffel bags from the back row of seats.
My mother adjusted the top of her black turtleneck and smiled faintly as her eyes locked on mine. She would be so beautiful if life hadn’t decided to pick a fight and turn her into the shell of a woman that she was.
“Ready?” she asked.
I nodded.
We swerved around cars and up the gleaming stairs of the glamorous Barnes Hotel. We were greeted by a smiling door man that bowed and then cheerfully waved us through with a twirl of his hand. For a moment, I panicked over the possibility of my father being in this same hotel until I realised that he despised the owner and always ranted about refusing to ever step foot on the grounds. No wonder my mother chose it.
She speed-walked to the reception desk and I left her to handle the business of checking in while I took a seat in the spacious lobby. I gazed upwards and found that I was drawn to a large and dazzling chandelier as it shifted slightly which caused the artificial light to glitter and reflect off the crystal pieces of its skeleton, adding life to the inanimate object and, thus, creating a phantasmagoric effect.
“Sadie, come on!” my mother whispered shouted to avoid gaining the attention of other hotel-goers and then waved her arms. We were already safely within the building so I failed to understand her sense of urgency. Plus, she was only standing about two meters away so I could not comprehend why she didn’t just take a few steps forward to beckon me properly.
I stood and reached for my duffel bag before groaning and following after her. I suddenly felt very, very indolent.
The elevator pinged to indicate that we had arrived one our floor – third – and I practically had to jog to keep up with my hasty mother. She scanned the card, pushed open the door and then frantically signalled for me to enter. I stared at her in puzzlement as I ambled into the room and dropped my bag on one of two double beds.
Check-in wasn’t until two so I wondered what sorts of favours she had to pull in order to allow for us to enter at this times.
“I have to leave, do you think you can stay here an–.” She stopped abruptly to scrutinise my face. I observed as she lowered herself onto the bed and tears brimmed on the lid of both of her eyes. “I am so sorry, Sadie,” she admitted in a slightly choked tone. She leant forward and placed both elbows on the surface of her knees. She ran both hands down her face and rested them over the bottom half of her face. “I am so, so sorry.” She shook her head as though in disbelief.
“It’s not your fault,” I attempted to cheer. But secretly, I could feel tears of my own fighting not to spill. “He just has some issues and I’m sure my lip and cheek will heal eventually.”
“You don’t understand.” She straightened her back and stared at me. “It’s not about the wounds healing.”
“Then, what is it about?” I managed to utter.
“The simple fact that as your mother, I should have gotten you out of that household before something like that could happen.” She shot to her feet and wiped her wet eyes. “I’m going to go and get rid of the car; do you think that I can leave you here alone?”
I nodded and watched as she tossed the key card onto the bed spread of my soft mattress.
What now? I thought, deflated
My question was answered as I heard the drowned sound of a splash through the glass of our closed hotel window.
While packing, I had remembered to throw a swimming costume into my bag and picked it out. Swimming always seemed like one of the few things that could calm my mind.
That and the right music.
But I did not have my phone because it was still at Ivy’s house so I was going to have to sacrifice the welfare of my hair.
It would be worth it.
♣ ♠ ♣ ♠ ♣ ♠ ♣ ♠ ♣ ♠ ♣ ♠ ♣ ♠ ♣ ♠
I arrived early on Monday morning so that I could avoid the immediate flow of questions from my friends because of my sudden disappearance on Saturday night. With the help of a little make up that I had bought once my mother arrived back at the hotel with a common Toyota, I was able to hide the fresh mark of my father’s assault. To distract anyone with sight from the wounds on my lip, I had applied a thick shade of red lipstick.
I was sure that multiple girls would think that I was trying to gain the attention of a boy because not a single one ever wore lipstick in school and thought that anyone who did was trying too hard. I couldn’t care less. Just as long as I survived this one week.
My mother hadn’t bothered with hooting and waving as she disappeared down the highway today. It was too soon.
I sat on the stairs to the locked school building until an attendant arrived and twisted the keys to the looming doors of our fortress-like school. He smiled down at me for a moment and then entered the building with a mop and bucket.
I hope that gave you an appropriate image of just how early it was.
My mother hadn’t minded driving me in so early; she understood what I was trying to do. I was grateful last night when she didn’t start questioning me about the lip injury. She knew that my father was correct. In order to get that wound, I must have been “whoring around”. But she didn’t ask. And I wanted to hug her for that.
In the mess that I could only call my life, I came to realise that I hadn’t thought of Phoenix once since my mother and I ran away. Somehow, he didn’t seem quite as important in the midst of attempting to escape my abusive and mentally unstable father.
I was reminded of his existence when my gaze drifted across the football field sized parking lot to the corner where he would have parked his motorbike and stared at the sky as he puffed smoke rings into the expanse above. I would give almost anything to get a quick view into what he was thinking about on every one of those days.
Probably who his next victim is, I thought bitterly.
An assassin. Why couldn’t he be anything but that? Like a cashier or part time mechanic?
Then again, if he was any of those things then I probably would not have been drawn to him on that first day not long ago.
I began to wonder who his employer was. Maybe he worked freelance?
I didn’t want to think about it. I didn’t want to think about the fact that he took human beings lives for a living. To get paid.
However, how could I hate him? He housed me when I was in the most fragile of states. It was the most unexpected of reactions from someone like him. I had supposed that a person with his personality would just let me go when I said I wanted to. But he didn’t.
Although, I couldn’t wrap my mind around the fact that he carried me into his room and took off my pants.
My mind quickly zoomed from Phoenix to my father.
I wonder where he is. I imagined him arriving home to find that we had deserted the space and coming to the realisation that we probably would not be going back. What did my mother mean when she said “I have a feeling this will be worse than usual.” How could it be worse?
The thought of what he might do as the domineering and psychotic person that he was once he finally understood that his family had kicked him out scared me. He was the kind of person that could easily gain access to a weapon.
I closed my eyes.
My chest heaved. Up and down, up and down. Frantic.
I held back the tears as a voice pulled me out of my reverie. “Are you okay?” I didn’t personally know the girl that was staring at me sympathetically and nodded weakly as I stood. I didn’t have my backpack because it, too, was at Ivy’s house. “Are you sure?” she persisted.
I smiled softly. “Yeah,” I managed to squeak.
I recognised her as a year thirteen and watched as one of her friends arrived on sight and called her over. She smiled as if to say “sorry but I have to go now” and then jogged over to her friend and began having an exaggerated conversation with arm flailing, fake choking and loud laughter.
It was depressing to think that the world never waited. My problems meant absolutely nothing because, no matter what, society would not stop to commiserate. After all, I was only one in seven billion.
The girl smiled warmly once again as she walked passed where I was leaning against the banister by the front doors and crossed the threshold, into the building.
Why was I standing outside there?
Why did I even bother coming back to school today?
My mother had given me the tempting offer of skipping today but I felt as if I had to come. I needed to face my problems head on before they circled around me and engulfed my very being like a fist around my throat. I stood by the door and avoided the curious gazes of milling students as I searched for Jason’s dirty blonde hair and icy blue eyes.
I wasn’t in the mood for my “friends” right now.
Luckily, he arrived before them. I scrutinised his gangly figure as he approached the school building with his face cast downwards. When he approached the stairs, he didn’t realise that I was standing there until I growled his name.
His eyes snapped upwards and for a moment, I saw fear in his eyes. Upon closer inspection, I discovered that the outer rim of his right eye was recognisably darker than that the rest of his face. His eyes swivelled across to the corner of the lot and he seemed to relax once he found that it was vacant.
The pieces slid into place and I groaned inwardardly. I could handle my own Goddamn battles. Why did Phoenix involve himself?
“Your schizo boyfriend jumped me,” Jason spat. “You should keep him on a leash.” He glared at me.
“He is not my boyfriend,” I barked. “And you deserved what you got.”
“You’re the one that threw yourself at me.” Jason laughed wickedly.
“What?” I shrieked in disbelief. But he didn’t respond. Instead, he pulled open the right door to the school and stepped into the building but not before smiling cruelly at me.
I wanted to punch that knowing grin from his face.
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The first of my “friends” to arrive was Ivy and even though she clearly spotted me, she didn’t approach the entrance. I stared at her in confusion and attempted to grab her attention but she was clearly ignoring me.
I realised what was happening when it was too late and Jordan, Bea and Zora had joined her. They walked around the side of the school to the smoker’s corner and I knew that they were silently asking me to follow. So I did.
But I really wished that I didn’t.
“If you didn’t want to hang out with us anymore, you could have just said,” Jordan barked.
Why were they angry with me? “I have no idea what you –”
“Jordan is right,” Zora interrupted.
“What are you –.” I was cut off, again.
“You didn’t have to try for Bea’s boyfriend in order to inform us. We would have listened if you just said it,” Ivy ranted heatedly.
What, I didn’t “try” with Jason! “What the hell? Is that what he told you?” I asked. My eyes had grown to the size of saucers as I spoke in amazement. “And you believed him?”
“I saw you run away from him,” Bea croaked.
I stared at her in amazement. A) She spoke and B) She believed him too!
Richardson American International School was an institute based in the South of England. It was initially a rundown castle that a rich American bloke named Micheal Richardson had bought and converted into the first ever American international school in the region. It was one of the only private schools in the city that only those that were more fortunate in life could attend.
I liked it merely because I didn’t have to wear an uncomfortable uniform.
Bea was of Scandinavian decent and didn’t like the sound of her accent in comparison to everyone else at the school that spoke with mostly British dialects. That was why she preferred not to speak at all.
“That’s not what happened, I swear,” I assured rapidly. "Why would I like Jason?"
“Oh, shut up,” Jordan growled.
I stared at the four girls ganged up in front of me in astonishment. How could they consider Jason’s account to be true over anything that I had to say? Did they honestly think that I could ever have feelings for someone like him?
Why was I still standing here before them?
“We know that you’ve only been hanging out with Phoenix Knight so that you could avoid us,” Zora snapped.
No wonder they believed Jason, they were already feeling insecure about what had happened with Phoenix and would accept pretty much any rumour that was shoved their way.
I stared at them and truly began questioning my skills as far as decision-making was concerned. Why was I friends with these people that had the audacity to choose someone like Jason's truth over mine? Why couldn't they leave me alone for once and not question every single thing that I did?
I took a few steps to the side but before I walked away, I glanced back at them one more time. I normally would not react quite as agressively as I did but I had finally snapped. I had finally lost all of my will to keep everything packed and sealed because my life was falling apart before my very eyes and I knew that there was little I could do about it. And their harsh behaviour wasn't helping.
“What’s going on in my life is much bigger that any of you stupid tarts and our stupid friendship but I’ve just realised that none of you selfish bitches are worth my fucking time so please go suck a dick or something because I. Don’t. Fucking. Care.” I rolled my eyes disgustedly as I proceeded to the school entrance and pulled the doors open enough to hear them clatter against the outside banisters.
Fuck their surprised expressions.
Fuck our “friendship”.
Fuck them.
Fuck Jason.
Just fuck the whole world.
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Dedicated to __Blue for the new cover! :)
Song recommendation of the chapter: Blood by the Middle East. It’s an old favourite that I absolutely WUV (Video on the side!!!)
Hey!!! So it turns out NaNoWriMo really isn’t taking that much of my time so I can still continue the tale of Phoenix and Sadie :) Maybe even update as often (daily) ;) That is only if you guys talk reeeeally nicely to me and vote and stuff :3 I am easily bought. haha
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BYEEEEE
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P.S. I wasn’t so sure about today’s word of the day and whether I used it correctly... Feel free to tell me how to correct it!