Beverly Hills Brat

Chapter 10

I regretted waking up the second I opened my eyes. My head was throbbing and I felt an intense wave of nausea crash over me. 

I groaned as I struggled to sit up and gather my thoughts. 

No no no. This cannot be happening. 

I had fallen asleep in the lounge, surrounded by empty vodka bottles and a sushi platter that had gone bad hours ago. I cannot believe I wasted my last night of luxury by sleeping on the ground instead of in my plush king sized bed with silk sheets and memory foam pillows. 

I jumped up and began running towards the spiral staircase that led to my bedroom. I could feel the earth spinning and I felt as though I was going to faint at any second. But I knew that I had to keep moving. This may very well be my last chance to step foot in my own house ever again. 

In my drunken stupor, I remember crafting a plan to grab a few essential items from around my house. I had to be selective and grab things that wouldn't draw too much attention. I hated feeling like a thief in my own house. These precious items all belonged to me, but it felt as though I was rifling through a stranger's things. 

I could feel the physical pain in my chest as I entered my designer closet. The high gloss white shelves towered from floor-to-ceiling and were stacked with Gucci, Prada, Versace and more. My closet had been carefully designed by the same architects who worked on the Vogue headquarters in New York City. Anna Wintour herself had designed my wardrobe to ensure that my signature style wouldn't be replicated by anyone in Beverly Hills. 

A single tear rolled down my cheek as I realised that I was going to have to leave it all behind. There was no way I could carry all my things with me, and there wasn't enough time to get it packaged and delivered.  My closet of bags and shoes were about to disappear in front of my very eyes.

The police would be here soon. I heard the detectives talking last night as I left the Bentley mansion. They were dead serious as they discussed seizing all of our possessions, eviction and repossession. 

My only choice was to grab what I could before they got to it and disappear into the night. 

My largest Louis Vuitton suitcase lay open on my bed. The next couple of minutes was a blur as designer clothes and a few pairs of shoes were tossed into the bag. I packed my Macbook and charger, along with a few sets of expensive jewellery my parents had gifted to me. My bag was already getting quite full and time was ticking by at lightning speed. 

I looked up at the photos decorating my mirror and felt more tears stream down my cheeks. The girl in those photos was surrounded by friends and family as she travelled the world, dined in 5 star restaurants and switched cars as though they were purses. 

I grabbed as many photos as I could and stuffed them into an envelope before tucking it into my bag. I couldn't help but cry as I realised that my personal photography studio and dark room was filled with precious photos that I would never get back. My only consolation was that there was just enough space in my bag for my favourite camera. I tucked it in carefully and zipped the bag. 

I froze as I heard police sirens racing towards my house. Grabbing my suitcase and cell phone, I bounded across the hall towards my parents' bedroom. There was a ledge adjacent to their balcony that was perfect for sneaking out. Whenever they were away on business trips, Giovanni was paid to stay over and ensure I didn't leave the house. I always made use of this secret ledge to meet my friends without Giovanni suspecting a thing. 

I shivered as loud voices filled the downstairs area, barking orders to seize all possessions. 

I had to move fast. My suitcase was already on the ledge. All I had to do was climb onto the ledge and jump.

I took a deep breath, but just as I was about to jump, a shimmering light from my parents room caught my eye. I focused on the light and realised that it was my mother's gold heart-shaped locket. My father had given it to her the day she gave birth to me, and she has worn it every day since. Inside the heart locket, there is a smaller, identical heart. It symbolises two beating hearts, a.k.a mine and my mum's, that she carried while pregnant with me.  My mother always said that even though it was her least expensive piece of jewellery,  it was priceless to her.

Even though I was angry with my parents for betraying our family like this, I knew in my heart that this locket was far more important. 

I could hear the police bounding up the stairs, getting closer and closer to me. Without a second thought, I shimmied back through the window, grabbed the locket from the bedside table and shimmied out the window again.

Clasping the locket tightly in my palm, I pushed the suitcase over the ledge and jumped to the ground. 

Police cars and SWAT dogs swarmed the front of our mansion. 

The sound of blaring sirens filled the air as I rolled my suitcase through the secret escape garden at the back of our house. 

All of a sudden I was on a quiet street behind my house, opposite from all the chaos and mayhem. 

For the second time in my life, I began walking hopelessly with nowhere to go. Dragging a suitcase of my possessions, I couldn't help but wish that this was all some horrible nightmare.

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