Tattered Beauty (Watty Awards 2011)

Chapter 28

Chapter 28

I woke from a dream of absolute terror to find myself in a reality of terror. Someone was kicking me, not hard, but certainly not gently either. I opened my eyes and came out of my blanket cocoon. “Poor little Hailey, fallen down from grace.” Kelsey’s condescending voice cooed. She stood above me and, I’ll admit it, she was dressed well—very well. “What, Daniel hasn’t bought you a palace yet?”

            “No, actually,” I sneered back. “I don’t need a castle to be happy.” It had been months since we spoke. Maybe even longer since I’d seen her last.

            “Well,” she said, flipping her long, newly highlighted hair. “Brandon said he’ll buy me a mansion.”

            Brandon—the boy she met and slept with at the King’s Halloween Ball. Had it really been almost five months since then already? Apparently. I didn’t know Kelsey could actually be in a relationship. She tired of boys quickly. But, then again, so did Brandon. He was the sleazy best friend of Daniel—don’t ask me why. He drank a lot, smoked a lot, and had an inordinate number of mistresses around the world. He was also in possession of his grandfather’s fortune which enabled him to live the life he did. The typical playboy type of New York.

            “Why? Just to prove he loves you? You always test guys this way.”

            “No, so we can have a place to live together.” Kelsey explained it as though I were an incompetent child. Money and partial fame had done her poorly. Instead of sweet, bubbly, beautiful Kelsey, she turned into a fake-tanned, Chanel toting, wannabe diva bitch.

            “Why? Is your whorehouse not roomy enough for two?” I snapped.

            She glared at me, “At least I have a place to sleep. You have fun in this dark alley. Hope you don’t get murdered or raped or whatever.” And she strutted away in her Jimmy Choo helps, stepping over the puddles of melted snow pooling on the sidewalk. There was one thing I knew for sure: she looked absolutely ridiculous in a cheetah printed overcoat that was the latest from London.

            I sat back further in the alleyway. Hopefully no one else would spot me. The paparazzi was the last thing I needed right now. I might have been able to rock my unraveling sweater and long peasant skirt as some kind of grunge, boho chic, but probably not.  These styles only existed within glossy magazine pages on perfect models, not on the streets.

            In the light I was the glamorous Hailey Jameson. But in the dark I was homeless, unfortunate Hailey Jameson. I wished I could be in the light all the time. Nevertheless, I guess everyone’s life has its shadows. Without light, there can be no dark. And whenever there is light, there is always dark; coexisting peacefully together.

***

Days passed uneventfully. For a week or so, I hid in the alleyway. I snuck out only under the cover of darkness for food and bathroom breaks. Under night’s spell I was just any young girl trying to get home. If you can consider the gravel behind a building “home”.

            On the morning of March twenty-second, I received a text from Daniel. “Good morning, gorgeous girl. I’ve got quite the day planned for you! Now, go to the place where we first met. There will be a clue for you.” A scavenger hunt? How exciting…and completely cliché. But adorable nonetheless. Guess I would roll with it! Today I wore a long, black lace skirt and an off the shoulder cream colored top. I was working with kind of a gypsy like style. I’d let the critics bash me today; I was on a mission.