SWEET, SWEET, NIGHTMARE.

CHAPTER ONE

   DANIELLE'S P.O.V

      The waves, unlike the turmoil in my being, are calm and peaceful. They slowly roll and crash; their white caps cresting over and plunging back into the water, displaying the beauty of the sea from the shoreline. I bury my bare feet deeper into the sand on the shoreline which is wet from the sea water. I take in a deep breath of the fresh salty air and sigh. As I had hoped, walking along the beach had successfully cleared my head, calmed my nerves somewhat, and reduced the tension which I still feel.

    After what I assume are hours of enjoying the serenity of the beach, I decide to return to my hotel room. In my right hand are my sandals and my left hand holds on to the shawl draped across my shoulders. The receptionist greets me with a smile as I make my way into the lobby and I return the gesture. On nearing the elevator, I realize its doors are closing and quickly wedge a foot between the doors to prevent it from completely getting shut.

    The elevator is occupied by a man whose unbelievably good looks catch me off guard but the glare he shoots at me tells me that he does not appreciate my company. I quickly utter an apology, make my way into the elevator and check what floor the elevator is headed to and thankfully, it is headed towards the same floor as I am. The silence in the elevator is so stifling, it causes my toes to wriggle in discomfort.

    Curiously, I take a look at the stranger behind me. His attention is directed towards the phone on his right hand which is busy with texting. His left hand, decorated with a Rolex watch sits in the pocket of his perfectly tailored suit pants. From the looks of it, he is a man of material substance and I seize the opportunity to gawk at him. As he starts to raise his head, I look away so fast, I think I give myself a whiplash. I can feel his eyes boring holes into my back so intensely, that I loudly sigh in relief once the elevator comes to a stop. I hurriedly exit the elevator, not minding that I might look undignified.

    My hotel room eases open with a satisfying beep as I swipe the key card across the lock. I dump my sandals and shawl on the floor as I make my way to the queen sized bed which I drop onto. My phone vibrates, notifying me of a new text message. As I reach for it on the bedside table, I mentally prepare myself for the barrage of messages that are sure to have bombarded my phone.

  57 missed calls and 28 new messages from Dad.

    "Holy moly" I whisper in exclamation as I go through the messages.

    
  Where are you?

We need to talk about this!
 
You can't hide forever.
 
Stop being a child, Danielle! Behave like the lady that you are.

  "Lady, my ass!" I scoff.

  Why should I listen to what he has to say when he won't listen to me?

  I drop my phone in annoyance not bothering to read the rest of the messages. I look around the hotel room, not quite knowing what to do. I have spent the past two days locked up in the room, neither seeing nor speaking to any one and living off of the junk and bottled water in the fridge.       

    Deciding to make the most of my time at the resort, I pick up my make shift diary which is a souvenir jotter that I found alongside a pen inside one of the bedside drawers. The first five pages of the jotter are filled with my written thoughts which had been driven by my anger towards my father. I turn to a fresh page and write out the possible fun things to do at the resort using the hotel map as a guide.

1) Diving?
     Sounds fun.

2) Bungee jumping?
    Hell nah! I'm terrified of heights.

3) Swimming?
    Sure thing.