Yours Forever: A Holiday Romance

by Bella Winters

  “I won’t ever see you again.” I see a baseball bat being pulled out from behind the man’s back which confirms it. I’m in real trouble. I glance my eyes everywhere, trying to search for an escape but there isn’t any way out. Bodies surround me everywhere. This man isn’t giving me any chance to get away. He clearly doesn’t know what my skills are when it comes to fighting. Admittedly I have no fighting skills, but that might not be the case I suppose.

  “Please,” I beg. “Please just let me go.”

  “Don’t start begging.” The man with the baseball bat doesn’t look impressed. “It never suits people when they start begging just take it like a man, okay?”

  “W… why not a gun?” The men move closer to me. The circle moves closer to me, I can feel the air squeezing out of my lungs. Any minute now I’ll pass out and make their job easy for them. “Wouldn’t that be cleaner?”

  “Easier for you maybe,” the man laughs. “But more boring for us. Also, loud.” He shrugs in a blasé manner, making it obvious that this is something he does all the time. “Little Katie gave us this place out of the kindness of her heart. I don’t want to abuse that trust by getting her in trouble.”

  The world spins violently around me, I can barely see anymore. I blink frantically, trying to regain my vision but fear has it now. The man steps forward and lifts the bat above his head. I flinch which only makes him laugh. He’s toying with me, playing with my emotions, like a tiger with a mouse.

  “Okay, I… I’ve learned my lesson… I won’t… I won’t…”

  But I don’t get to finish my sentence, because then a bat slams down on the side of my head leaving me with a blinding, red hot pain. It burns down my neck, down my back, to my knees. My legs shake, I can feel myself falling to the ground. It’s almost as if the bat has rid me of a lot of my brain function and I can’t cope anymore.

  Then I fell a kick at the back of my leg, sending me the rest of the way down. I’m helpless, tumbling like a blade of grass. There isn’t even enough of me to fight back. I might not stand a chance but I can’t even do it. My arms slowly move upwards to protect my face but it’s too late. They’re already beating me on every part of my body, trying to leave none of it unscathed. If I survive this then every inch of my body will likely hurt forever more. I won’t be the same person anymore.

  But I don’t think I’m going to survive this.

  The blackness is coming for me, I can feel it. It’s like a circle around me trying to claim me. There’s a part of me that wants to claw and cling to life, to hold on to what I’ve worked so hard for. I want that life, the one that I was just working towards, the one I was just about to get…

  Police today, interview tomorrow.

  Maybe that’s not going to happen now. Maybe nothing is going to happen now. Maybe it’s time to just give in to the blackness.

  Chapter Eleven - Tia

  The day starts just like any other. I have no idea that my world as I know it is about to come to an end. I’ve been trying my hardest to work out where I’m going next with my life and packing up my belongings along the way so at least I’m making progress to moving on with my life. I know that I need to get away from my family, that must have been evident since the damn day that I set foot back into my home, I just need to decide where I want to go. Yes, start up money isn’t a barrier, but that’s not all that I need to think about. When I go, I want it to be right. I sure as hell don’t want to be back here in a few months time with my tail between my legs, needing to start again.

  As I pad down the stairs to grab myself some breakfast I try to gear myself up. I do this every morning at the moment, I’m trying to brave the moment when I’ll actually tell Mom that I’m leaving. I want to do it, I want her to know that she’s driven me away, but I keep stopping myself at the last moment. The second I say those words it all becomes real and I guess I don’t want that to happen until I’m sure of where my next move will be. I keep thinking that maybe I should move near Diana, Helen, or Alexa, just so I have someone I know around me, but I’m not too sure. I don’t know what I want.

  “Morning,” Mom calls out brightly, as if she can’t see the inner turmoil snaking through me. “You look tired today.”

  “Yeah, thanks,” I grumble back while taking a seat at the dining table. My head shakes in shock as her greeting words. “Good morning to you, too.”

  She places the newspaper on the table, one I’m sure she’s only pretending to read, and she examines me more closely. Her eyes rake over my body as if she’s picking up all of my insecurities one by one. I almost want to fold my arms across my chest to hide myself but I know there’s no point. That’ll only make her worse.

  “You know, you could always come to a spa with me today,” she muses thoughtfully, probably assuming that she’s being helpful. “My masseuse is a very nice man. Handsome too.” She sends me a wink as if we’re girlfriends rather than mother and daughter. It makes me feel sick that she can just act so normally when she knows that I know the truth about her and Dad. Isn’t she embarrassed at all? “I’m sure he’ll be able to fix you up and put a smile on your face.”

  I roll my eyes and push myself into a standing position. Then I move my way over to the coffee pot. I need some caffeine if I’m going to get through this without losing my freaking mind. “Yeah, we’ll see, Mom. I don’t know much about that.”

  The liquid pours into the mug and I focus on that sound rather than the drivel coming out of Mom’s mouth. If she honestly thinks I’m going to go on a girly day out with her then she’s got another thing coming. Once it’s full, I press the mug to my lip and allow the delicious heat to sear through my throat. Then I move back to my seat, grabbing the newspaper as I go. Maybe if I put it up in front of my face, she’ll take the hint that I really don’t want to talk to her.

  “…so I think it’ll be good for the both of us to spend some time together, don’t you?”

  “Hmmm,” I murmur while flicking open the pages. She continues to talk but I pay no attention. My eyes simply scan the words as if I’m drinking them in. I’m not really reading anything, until…

  “Oh my God.” My heart stops dead in my chest, sickness rises up into my throat, I have to gulp to keep it all inside. “Holy fuck.”

  “Tia!” Mom has the indecency to sound shocked by my curse word, as if that’s the worse thing that happens in this house. “What was that for?”

  “Oh, my God.” I ignore her, pushing back my chair and moving away from my coffee mug as I forget all about it. The words in front of my eyes swim and dance, grabbing my attention much more fiercely than anything else. “I have to go.”

  I bolt back up the stairs before Mom can say anything else, taking them two at a time as my heart pounds boiling hot blood right through my body. My brain buzzes as if I have a large bee inside there, clouding up my thoughts, I don’t know what the hell to do anymore. This is… it’s just too much.

  Once I’ve flopped back onto my bed and I stretch my body out, I pull the paper back out and I find the article once more. It’s still there, it hasn’t vanished into thin air as if I’ve imagined it, which I half expected it to do. But nope, it’s still there.

  ‘Stephen Jones, small time musician, found dead in local bar.’

  No, it just can’t be. This can’t be possible. I reach across to the night stand and I grab Stephen’s pick which I roll between my fingers as I read. Maybe we only spent one night together and maybe he ditched me at the end of it, but I still feel like we shared something special. I still feel like we had some sort of connection that I really enjoyed. Now he’s just… gone. Dead. Vanished.

  ‘Barmaid of the Crown, Katie Miller, found the beaten body of Stephen Jones and was the one to contact the police. “I don’t know what happened,” she told us. “I locked up the night before and no one was in the bar, then the following morning I unlocked it to find him.”. She did not know Jones, but had seen him play at the Crown a few weeks before. “He seemed troubled, like he knew
that he was in trouble.”’

  I scrunch the paper between my fingers, growing angry with each passing word. Stephen certainly didn’t seem troubled to me. When we met, he seemed happy as anything, and that gig he played was absolutely amazing. There was no way he knew that he was in trouble. The only strange thing to happen was that he vanished in the middle of the night after we had sex and I didn’t seem him for the rest of the time that I was aboard, but that doesn’t mean anything… does it?

  Not able to solely believe the words written in the paper, I click onto the Internet to try and find out more. Everyone knows that online journalists are much quicker than traditional ones, so I’m sure that if there’s any more information to be found, it will be online.

  Nope, nothing. Absolutely nothing. This is madness!

  After fifteen very frustrated minutes, the only info I can find is what I already know. I guess Stephen Jones just wasn’t an important enough person to warrant more news than that which is sad. He had a whole life, and he was murdered, and no one seems to care. Except me… and his family in New Zealand of course.

  With a deep and sorrowful sigh, I fold the paper up and I tuck it away. I can’t look at the words anymore, they’re crushing me, making me feel ill. I didn’t have much with Stephen Jones, but with the shitty way that my life has been going recently this is just another thing that brings my mood even lower. It crushes me and makes me want to weep pathetically.

  I can’t stay here, I think with a hot determination. Even more than before. I have to get away. There cannot be any more excuses. No tears, no sadness, just action.

  I push myself off the bed and glance around my room. I don’t have much packed up because I didn’t want it to be obvious what I was doing, but I have the essentials. I have all I need even if I don’t have all that I want. I can just take all of that and leave right now. I can go and never look back. I can say goodbye to my murderous father, my pathetic mother and I can just become me… whoever the hell I am.

  With that one thought in mind I stand up and move over to my wardrobe. I ignore all of my fancier clothes and go for some comfortable sweat pants instead. I don’t know how I know it with such clarity, but I just know that I need to get out the country if I want to really escape this… at least for the time being. Moving to another state won’t be far enough I need to be somewhere so far away that all of this is a distant memory.

  Once I’m dressed I flick my laptop back open and I head towards the airline website. I figure I’ll pick somewhere on a whim, whatever flight is leaving today. I just need to get out before I succumb to the sobs and I spend another week on my bed crying. If I let the sadness of Stephen’s death to get the better of me then I don’t know how long it’ll be before I can escape. Maybe I didn’t know Stephen well, but I don’t think he’d want me to cave to depression.

  I grip tightly to the pick as I run my eyes over the available flights, waiting for inspiration to hit, and soon it does. There’s one flight that stands out, that grabs my attention without me even trying. The only seat available is in economy class which isn’t what I’m used to and won’t be pleasant, but there’s something about it that still feels right. It’s a country that’s calling out to me, drawing me in.

  New Zealand.

  Maybe I can’t have the guy, but maybe that isn’t the reason he came into my life in the first place. Maybe I was always supposed to go to New Zealand. Without dwelling too much on the decision, I hit book and allow a flurry of excitement to wash over me. Then I grab my bag and I race down the stairs with the hint of a smile on my face. Everything still sucks I know that, but I feel good to be taking action. It’s pretty much the first time in my life that I’ve ever done something so productive.

  “Mom,” I call out loudly. “I’m going.”

  “Where are you going?” she replies, coming to join me in the hallway by the front door. “And why do you have that big rucksack?”

  “I’m moving, Mom. I’m finally going.”

  “Oh.” She looks understandable stunned. “Right, I see. Where are you going.”

  The words roll off my tongue feeling so damn good. “New Zealand.”

  Mom clutches her chest looking like she might throw up. “You can’t leave the country,” she gasps. “You can’t just go like that.”

  “I’m an adult, Mom, I can do what I like.” I resist the urge to roll my eyes.

  “Your father won’t like it.” She shakes her head rapidly. “He’ll stop giving you money. You’ll be stuck out there in a different country all by yourself.”

  I think about the money that I already have in my bank account and shrug. I have more than enough to get me started, even without a steady influx, and I’ll just get a job when I’m out there. No problem. Actually, the idea of starting again all by myself with the pressure of having to do something with my life is nice. I feel like that’s exactly what I need right now.

  “I know, Mom.” I shrug. “But this is what I have to do.”

  With that I open the door and I scoot outside without looking back once. I know I’m making the right choice, it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks. I need this. I need to go.

  Chapter Twelve - Tia

  One Month Later…

  “Oh my God, I needed this night out,” my new best friend, Ashley, smirks and rolls her eyes. “Work is really riding my ass at the moment.”

  “Yeah, me too,” I comment idly. I don’t mind though, I like the hard work. Landing the position as a staff writer for one of the smaller newspapers in Wellington was a pleasant shock and just proved to me that leaving America was the best thing for me… a fact that I have confirmed to me every single day. “Good job it’s Julia’s birthday then.”

  “Where is Julia?” Ashley puts her hand over her eye and scans the night club as if she’s just going to find her. The place is absolutely packed, I have to say I don’t think she’s got much luck in finding anyone, least of all Julia. “Is she with Nick?”

  “Who’s Nick?” I’m new to this group of friends, which I think they forget sometimes. I’ve only been in New Zealand for a month, but I have to admit it feels like much longer even to me. Sometimes it’s my life in America that seems like the distant dream and that I’ve always been here. All the drama with my parents, it feels like someone else’s problem now. It feels so disconnected from me, it’s wonderful. “Is he her boyfriend?”

  “Boyfriend is a strong word,” she chuckles and nudges me playfully in the side. “More like fuck buddy. He’s hot though, so I don’t blame her. I sure as hell would!”

  “You aren’t thinking about it… are you?” I might only really know this lot from work, but they don’t seem like the disloyal type. “Not if Julia likes him.”

  “Oh God no.” She shakes her head. “You know I’m only interested in Mr. Serscey.”

  Urgh, our boss. I have no idea what Ashley sees in him, but then I suppose it’s each to their own. Everyone has their own tastes and if that’s the sort of man she likes then at least we won’t ever fight over a guy. I don’t much go for the older, slightly balding, definitely married types. I much prefer people without attachments, closer to my age.

  “Right, sure.” I shake my empty glass at Ashley indicating that I need to top up. “I’m headed to the bar. Do you want anything?”

  She holds up her bottle of beer and smiles. “Yes please. I’m headed to the bathroom. Maybe Julia is in there… hopefully by herself. I’ll meet you back around here in a bit?”

  I know that won’t happen, losing friends in a night club is just standard, but I don’t mind. I actually feel much freer and confident here in New Zealand. It makes me realize just how tightly wound I was in America. Even at college I was like a coil ready to spring. No wonder things didn’t work out between me and Liam…

  Not that I’m thinking about Liam anymore. I don’t really think about anyone in that way. Of course, it’s challenging not to think about Stephen because I’m in his home town. I often wonder what he would
be doing if he were still alive and living here. Would he come to night clubs such as this one or would he be too cool? Would he be playing gigs all over the city or would he still be struggling to find his fame? Maybe this is the sort of place he used to come before he made the journey over to America. I just don’t know. I wish I did, but I don’t.

  I keep his pick with me the whole time, just wanting to keep his spirit alive. Just because we didn’t know each other for a long time, doesn’t mean he didn’t affect me. Meeting him drove me to this place and helped me to find my happiness. I will always be grateful to him for that. It is a shame that he isn’t here to share this journey with me, but I suppose I cannot change what’s already happened. It is what it is, I just need to make the best of what my life is right now. At least it’s good, at least I’m happy now. That’s the most important thing.

  I wave goodbye to Ashley, hoping that I’ll at least be able to find her before the night is up, and I push my way through the throngs of the crowd, trying desperately not to get stuck in the sweaty, swaying bodies. I can see the bar up there in the distance, but with the effort it’ll take me to get there, it feels like a mountain I have to climb.

  I sigh loudly and wipe some perspiration off my forehead. It’s just lucky that I’m much more casual about how I look these days and I don’t mind the natural look. I have a little bit of make up on but it’s not enough to get melted or smudged by the intense heat that’s floating through this room. I wipe my wet hand down on the skirt of my black summery dress and I push my way forward. I really do need a drink and this is the only way I’m going to get one.

  “Oof.” Someone bangs into the back of me and sends me flying forward. I bash into the person in front of me but as I start to apologize I realize that she’s too intoxicated to care. Instead, my eyes automatically fly around to find the person who bashed into me.