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

a Beautiful Series Novella

by Lilliana Anderson

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2013 Lilliana Anderson

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal
enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to
other people. If you would like to share this book with another
person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If
you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not
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of this author.

Copyright
2013,
 
Lilliana
 
Anderson
All
 
rights
reserved

Without
limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this
publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a
retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means
without the prior written permission of the author of this
book.

This book is a
work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead is
purely coincidental. Any actual places, products or events
mentioned are used in a purely fictitious manner.  The author
acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various
places/products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been
used without permission and is by no way sponsored by the trademark
owners.

Dedication
–

To Lilli, the only one who didn’t make
it.

Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul -
and sings the tunes without the words - and never stops at
all.

Emily Dickinson

This has
probably been my hardest book to write.

Each time I
opened the document, a nervous feeling came over me. Writing
Paige’s story has forced me to look at all of my own hurt and pain.
It took me to a dark place, deep inside me, each and every time I
wrote it. It was difficult. It was confronting. But, in the end, I
think it was worth it.

No matter what
response I get to this book. I will be forever proud of myself for
getting through it. Some things happened in my life, just as I was
due to start writing this book that made me want to announce that I
wouldn’t do it. But I made a promise, and I felt I had to keep
it.

I do hope that
you enjoy reading about Paige’s life before A Beautiful Forever.
She is currently my favourite leading lady. I love her mind, and I
love her strength.

Hopefully, you
will too.

Lilliana
xoxox

First and foremost I must thank
my beta and proof readers for
working so hard for me on this novel. Marion of Making Manuscripts
(www.makingmanuscripts.com), Mary, Anna, Betchy, Billie, Celsey,
and Megan. Your input has made this book so much better than if I
had have done it all alone. Thank you! Thank you!

Thank you to my husband for being a stand in
proofreader while my usual one is off visiting Central Australia –
I really appreciate your eyes, your thoughts, and your
encouragement.

Thank you to my street team and to
everyone who has agreed to review for me – my heart fills up every
time I see your enthusiasm for my work! And I know I can always
count on Rachel, Isabel and April, who have been reviewing for me
since I broke their hearts with A Beautiful Struggle.

A big thank you also goes out to everyone
who has been watching my fan page closely while I wrote this, your
encouragement has been what got me through the lonely writing
process. I especially want to mention Kimberly R – she was the
winner of my cameo competition and was kind enough to work with me
to get her description right, so she could be the one person who
does something nice for Paige, without expecting anything in
return.

I also want to thank
my kids for cuddling up next to me while I
type and waiting patiently until I’ve finished my thought – you’re
all beautiful!

The very last thank you is to you, the person
reading right now – you are the whole entire reason that I have
worked so hard to create this book. Enjoy.

“
Mummy!” I
cry out in the middle of the night, woken from a bad dream that
seemed so real. I'm afraid to get out of bed.

“
What is it
baby? Did you have a nightmare?” My mother asks, smoothing my hair
back and kissing my head as she scoops me up in her arms and rocks
me gently.

I simply nod
as I press myself to her chest, listening to the vibration of her
voice as she tells me that everything is ok. It was just a
dream.

“
What are
you doing in here?” the gruff voice of my father says from the
doorway.

“
She had a
nightmare, Oliver,” my mother tells him, as she continues rocking
me in her arms. I cling tightly to her, knowing that soon she will
leave. Daddy doesn’t like it when she holds me.

“
You need to
stop coddling her. You have two other children who need you more
than that bastard does.”

I wonder what
a bastard is, as my mother presses her hands over my ears and
speaks to my father. I hear nothing but a muffled sound through her
hands, along with the hum of her voice through her chest. But I
can’t make out any words.

Shortly after,
she’s putting me back into my bed, and telling me that it’s time to
go to sleep. I don’t go to sleep though. The sound of my parents
arguing keeps me awake. I think they’re talking about me. Although,
they’re saying things I don’t understand.

By the time
morning rolls around, the house is quiet again. Rubbing my eyes, I
wonder if the whole thing was a dream.

Sitting up in
bed, I wrap myself in my own arms. I wish it was real. I miss
cuddling my mummy.

“I’d better go
home,” I announce, as I stand up from the side of the pool. I’ve
been hanging out at my friend Ramona’s house with her and two other
friends. She has this big heated pool that we all love dangling our
feet in while we talk about boys we like to look at, girls who
annoy us, and parents who just don’t understand.

“Don’t go. It’s
not even 5 o’clock yet,” Jess points out. She cocks her head to
look up at me and shields her blue eyes against the sun. Her
straight, shoulder length blonde hair falls to the side as she
regards me. “Surely your curfew isn’t this early.”

“It’s now at
5:30 on a Sunday, and 9:30 on Friday and Saturday - every other
day; I'm not even allowed out. If I’m a minute late, I’ll be
grounded. You know how strict my parents are,” I remind her.

“You’re fifteen
years old. It’s not like you’re still in primary school. I say just
go home when you’re ready. It’s not like they can do anything too
horrible to you right?” Ramona says from beside Jess. “What’s
grounding really? They say you can’t go out, and you sneak out
anyway. I wouldn’t let them push me around if I was you.”

“Guys get off
her back,” my best friend Maddison puts in. “Neither of you has
heard the way her mother goes off when she does something
wrong.”

“Yeah but her
brother stays out as long as he likes. He’s always parties and
things. Why is it so different for Paige?” Jess asks.

“It’s just the
way it is,” I say, checking my watch and thumbing of my shoulder
towards the gate. “I need to go okay? I don’t want to be late.”

“It’s okay,”
Maddison says, pushing up on her hands to slide herself back from
the pool. “I think I might head off too. I’m pretty sure I have
some homework left to do before tomorrow.” She shakes her feet off
and stuffs them into her flip-flops, before coming to stand beside
me. “I’ll see you guys later.”

“Ahh, homework,
schomework! You guys are no fun,” complains Ramona, as we make our
way through the brown Colorbond gate that separates her backyard
from the front and call out good-bye.

Maddison and I
live in different directions, so we part ways at Ramona’s
letterbox. “Don’t worry about those girls ok. I wouldn’t want you
to get in trouble again. It sucked when you were grounded last
time.”

“Thanks Mads,”
I tell her, giving her a quick hug before heading home. We all live
very close together in Miranda, which is in the Sutherland Shire
near Sydney, so it’s really easy to walk.

Just before I
reach the driveway leading to my house, I check my watch, breathing
a sigh of relief when I see that time. I made it home by 5:20.
There’s ten minutes to spare.

Something
sitting on the pathway catches my eye, and I stop, dead in my
tracks. I don’t understand what it’s doing there.

My eyes drift
upwards over the house. Everything seems so quiet. Slowly, I move
up the driveway and head towards the path. Out the front of my
house is a black gym bag. Sitting on top of that gym bag is a white
envelope with my name on it –
Paige
.

Frowning, I
reach out and take it. A sense of dread sits heavy in my stomach as
I stare at it, unwilling to open it. I’m afraid of what’s
inside.

As my heart
beats faster and my breathing quickens, I force myself to turn the
envelope over. Sliding my thumb into the small gap, I tear along
the top and slip the contents into my hand. It’s cash, wrapped in a
piece of paper.

My hands shake
as I unfold the paper, written on it is a single line of
handwriting. The moment I read it my eyes start to burn, and my
throat feels as though it’s closing.

What the hell
is going on?

This isn’t
your home anymore.

My hands won’t
stop shaking as I count out the money in my hands. Four notes - Two
hundred dollars.

Tears blur my
eyes as I shake my head from side to side while I pull my keys from
my pocket.
This isn’t happening.
I attempt to insert them in
the lock, but I’m slipping and struggling. It won’t go in.

“Just slide
in!” I cry to the key. I don’t know if it’s my shaking hand or if
the key just doesn’t fit anymore. My chest burns as I squeeze my
eyes shut and try to focus.

Blowing out a
steady breath, I wipe my eyes on the sleeve of my shirt. No matter
how I try it - the key doesn’t fit.

“No, no, no,
no, no,” I sob, as tears start to flow more freely. “Mum! Dad!” I
plea, pressing my forehead against the front door and knocking. I’m
trying to stay calm. This has to be some sort of joke.

When there is
no answer, I pound my fists against the door. “I know you’re here!”
I yell. “The car’s in the driveway! Open the door! This isn’t
funny!”

I start
thumping harder and screaming, kicking at the door, demanding to be
let in. But I don’t get a single response. No one even peeks out of
the curtains.

Stepping back
from the door, I look up at the second story. The lights are on,
but I can’t see anyone.

“Mum! Dad!” I
scream. “Don’t do this! Please! I’m sorry ok! I’m sorry!” I slide
my hands up the side of my head and clutch at my temples. I feel
like I might be sick. “Oh god. I don’t even know what I did,” I
mumble to myself, trying to sift through my interactions with them
over the last few days. I can’t think of anything. Surely there was
something - there must be a reason for this.

“What did I
do?” I screech.

Nothing. No
response. No sound. I'm alone.

Dropping on the
ground, my shoulders start to shake along with the huge sobs that
are tearing out of my throat. All that's missing from this scene is
rain. But the weather's perfect. My life is falling apart, and the
weather is perfect.

This isn’t
happening. Surely, this isn’t happening.

Reaching inside
my bag, I pull out my phone and call my home number. With my phone
next to my ear, I listen as I hear the ring on the line, along with
the digital ring of the handset from inside the house.

“
You’ve
reached the Larsen residence. We can’t come to the phone right now.
Please leave your name, number, and a brief message at the
tone.”

“It’s Paige.
I’m outside. Please let me in. I promise to never break curfew
again.
Please
. Don’t kick me out. I have nowhere to go… Mum?
Dad? Please pick up.
Please!”
I beg. “Adam? Sophie? Someone?
Let me in, don’t do this!” I cry. “DON’T DO THIS!” As the machine
clicks over to the engaged signal, I drop my phone on the grass in
front of me and rest my face in my hands.

I sit on the
front lawn crying for - I don’t know how long. Eventually though, I
run out of tears and drag myself slowly to my feet, walking over to
the gym bag full of clothes.

As I read over
the note again, the words ‘This isn’t your home anymore’ echo
through my mind. I feel like my life has just ended. I wish this
was some kind of awful joke my siblings were playing on me, but it
can’t be.