Where the Skies are Blue

Chapter Twenty-Seven:

I can't sleep.

My legs are pulled to my chest as I sit on the porch chair, watching the sun slowly rise above the ocean. Watch as the water turns to beautiful shades of pink and red. A wonderful pink sky resembling cotton candy.

My throat aches. Bruises of hunter's fingers around my throat already left behind. A constant reminder of what happened merely hours ago. What was supposed to be a simple dinner of me meeting his parents somehow turned into him hurting me again. I shouldn't have cussed at him or egged him on when he was already on edge. I should've just kept my mouth shut and comforted him when he was in clear distress.

I prop my chin up with my hand, resting my elbow on top of my knee, my eyes tired and aching with the promise of sleep. But I don't want to sleep. My brain is too busy thinking over everything. Questioning myself about what I did wrong and how my life has taken such a turn when only a few weeks ago, things were so perfect.

Is this what my life will always consist of? Being trapped in this cycle of abuse, never being able to escape it? Life of poverty, horrible men, and fighting to make my way in the world? How exhausting. How lonely. The world forgets about women like me, like Katherine, like every other woman of abuse and neglect. My mother is far from perfect; she's created a lot of her circumstances, but at the same time, her life has never been easy.

She grew up in an abusive household, which, besides some stories she's shared with me while I held her hair as she vomited in the toilet, she refuses to speak about for the most part. Her mother married an abusive stepfather that she stayed with through all the beatings and all the torture. How does one escape that life when it's all they've ever known? When they believe it's all they'll ever deserve? Nobody saves them, nobody helps, and everyone just turns a blind eye. They think it's not their business to get involved. If nobody is going to save women and children in those situations, what are they to do? Besides try to make it out on their own, try to change their circumstances when the world is already against them.

Life is really fucking hard and, for the most part, unfair. And it terrifies me that it won't get any easier.

I feel my chest grow tighter. Like someone is grabbing my heart and squeezing it.

I had so much hope for this place. Thinking I could have a redo. A place where I can escape all the troubles of Arizona. Yet, it seems like no matter where I go, life is always there to catch up with me. Reminding me of how troubling it really is. I'll never escape it.

Someone then appears along the shoreline. My eyes follow them as they pick up a rock and skip it into an incoming wave. As they grow closer, I realize it's Ender. Awake as early as I am.

I stand from the chair and begin making my way down the steps and to the sand. It's cold out this morning, and I zip my hoodie further up, burrowing my hands into the front pockets.

The fog is coming in quickly. A thick layer is about to hide any visibility. Making this shoreline look like a scary movie.

When I reach him, his back is turned to me as he stares out into the water, his arms folded across his chest.

"Joshua Ender." I say, "What are you doing up so early?"

He jumps at my voice, his eyes wide as they look at me, his body relaxing as soon as he realizes it's just me.

"You're the easiest person to scare." I snort and stand alongside him.

Lifting his hand, he rubs a hand along his jawline, his body stiff. "Hey."

Every time I see him, I'm still in awe of how gorgeous he is. How alluring every inch of him is. How his presence instantly makes me feel calm and comfortable. I can tell he's awake because, like me, he can't shut his mind off. Something is going on. "What are you doing?" I ask.