Phoenix: The Beauty in Between (A Beautiful Series Companion Novel)

Do they really want me gone that much? I think disbelievingly, as I hitch my bag on my shoulder and get out of there. Soon after, a car from the security company is driving up our street. I keep walking and keep my head down. I don’t want to risk being arrested right now. I’m pretty sure my parents wouldn’t bother coming to get me if I was.

For the rest of the day, I walk. There is nowhere else I know of to go. I can’t visit a friend, because they’re all at school, and I certainly can’t go home. I end up sitting in a park, rocking back and forth on a swing.

It’s here that it finally hits me.

I’m homeless.





Chapter Four


Six months earlier

“What do you mean you can’t trust me?!” my mother yells in the other room. “Haven’t I proven myself enough for you?”

My parents are fighting again.

“You ruined that trust years ago Susan!” my father bellows back.

I tuck my knees into my chest and try to keep very quiet. If I move and they see me, I’ll get dragged into this fight too. I don’t know why she does it. But when she’s angry at Dad, she’s angry at me too.

Adam and Sophie look over at me. “I don’t think they can see you,” my brother whispers. They know this happens, but no one saves me. No one stops her. I guess they’re scared of going against her and becoming me. I don’t really blame them.

Trying to shut out the sounds of their yelling, I focus on the television. I can see the characters on the screen moving and talking. However, I can’t hear anything besides the angry raised voices in the next room and the thumping of my heart.

When the door bursts open, I suck in my breath. Adam and Sophie glance at me, but keep their focus on the television.

“You’re an arsehole Oliver! I'm sick and tired of this,” my mother yells before coming to a stop beside me. I think she actually came looking for me. “And you!” she says, pointing her finger in my face. “You’re no better!”

“I swear mum. I haven’t done anything. I’ve just been sitting here. I wasn’t even listening,” I ramble. When my mother gets into these moods, her tirades can go on for hours. Please don’t do this, I beg her internally.

When her hand draws back, my brother and sister take their cue and leave the room quietly, just before the loud slap fills the room when her hand connects with my face.

Tears sting my eyes as heat radiates off my face, but I refuse to cry. For a while, I actually fight back, trying to convince her that I haven’t done anything. That she doesn’t need to keep yelling at me.

But she doesn’t listen, and I run out of fight.

Eventually, I have nothing left to do but cry and listen, as she tells me every single thing that she finds wrong, or insulting about me.

As I look at her twisted, angry face, I can only imagine that she hates me. I don’t know why. Although I wish I did. I could fix it if I knew. I could be a better daughter.

Hours later, she’s repeated herself at least ten times, and she’s run out of steam. I’ve been grounded – again. For the life of me, I can’t tell you why…





Chapter Five


“Where were you at school today?” Maddison asks me over the phone. “Your note said you were going home to get ready. What happened?”

I’m sitting on the front step of my house, waiting to see if a member of my family is going to come home. They must be here somewhere. The window I broke earlier is already fixed, so they can’t be far.

I figure that if I can just make them talk to me, then they’ll have to let me back in. I don’t care if they ignore me. I just want somewhere to live until I’m old enough to go to university. I know that if they let me, then I can stay out of their way. I can make it work.

The thought of having to survive on my own scares the living shit out of me. I don’t want to be a homeless teen. I don’t know how to be a homeless teen.

“I wasn’t feeling well,” I lie as I keep my eyes focused on the street and watch for some sign of their return.

She tries to move on with the conversation and starts telling me about how one of our friends was trying to get the attention of a boy two years ahead of us. I’m only half listening. I’ve got bigger things to worry about.

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