Page 37 of Fractured Souls

Maybe today is my lucky day? Not only do I find a library three blocks away from the motel, but they have free water and coffee. I've never had coffee, so I just grab some water and find a computer to start looking. My mom and I used to go to libraries all the time when I was little. It was the best place to get books since you don't have to pay. We’d pick out new fairy tales to read at home and mom would use a computer while I read and looked at other books. This library is much larger than some of the ones I have been to. It's two stories and is fairly busy.

But I found a computer in this little room on the back wall. It says private study room. You can be in here for two hours according to the sign on the door. Hopefully I can get one of these any time I come here to avoid people. The less I interact with people, the better. Especially considering the state of my face.

I've been trying to think about all the stories my mom used to tell me, and Brielle came up a lot, so I'm trying to piece things together. The one thing I remembered most is her living on the beach.

“Princess Brielle had a beautiful home. The back of the house looked out at the beach, and you could walk from her back deck down to the water. The girl loved to go down and sit, pushing her toes into the sand. It grounded her and was her favorite thing to do when she had sad thoughts like you are having, baby girl.”

“Can we go to Princess Brielle and push our toes into the sand, Mama? Will it make me feel better?”

“Oh baby, I hope one day you will get to go to Princess Brielle and can do that, but not now, unfortunately.”

I look at homes on the beach, then I look up Brielle in Virginia Beach, but there are too many things coming up. If I had her last name, this would be easier. So I go back to looking at houses on the beach. Any of the ones I can see on Google Maps that have a back deck that faces the water. There are six closest to me. Two are for sale, so that leaves four. I don't really know what to do with this information now. I map out other places around town so I can learn my way around and write down all the directions I need, then print some off for me to take home.

After that, I decide to stop for the day. It's been five hours, and I'm exhausted, so I head back to the motel and crash almost as soon as I hit my bed.

* * *

One Week Later

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I have $203 left, and I've got nothing on Brielle. I'm starting to panic, and I'm really trying to hold it together. But I've been alone for a week now, and things are overwhelming. I'm starting to lose hope. Who knew that getting out of Moth—I mean Tammy’s would be the easy part? That this would be the hard part. Staying strong because I am on my own. I have to depend on myself. I have no one else. Its fucking terrifying.

I ended up going to those four homes a few days ago but no luck. One of them, an older man, commented on my bruises and said he could call the cops for me. When I said no and went to leave, he tried yelling for me and I took off running. I found a place close by to hide, taking a breather. Running when your body is aching and banged up on top of very little moving over three years… it hurts.

None of the people from the homes on the beach even knew someone named Brielle. I don't know what to do next. Every day I've gone to the library to try and search for her. I've asked around at local shops, and I've just walked in about every direction trying to think of anything else I can do to find her but keep coming up with nothing.

I'm losing hope that she's even real, which means I'm going to need to start thinking about other options and what else I can do to survive since going back to Tammy is not an option.

I’ll have to try and find a job. Maybe I can find someone who will pay me cash or under the table as I saw it was called when I Googled it. I am trying to stay positive and keep going. Every day I get up and move and leave the motel. But it's getting harder and harder. I feel like I am seconds away from a huge breakdown. But I didn't get this far to break and screw up and end up back with Tammy.

I have to fight. I am fighting for me, but I also need to fight to live a better life for my mom.Just keep holding on. You didn't survive to give up now.I feel tears burn the backs of my eyes, but I don't let them fall.

The only positive thing this week is that my bruises are healing. Slowly, but they are. I think a lot of the cuts on me are going to scar, and my ribs still ache, but they don't hurt as bad as the first few days. My face is still yellow and purple, but not as dark as it was. My neck is still pretty dark, but it hurts less every day. I can still barely make out the indent from the chain when she tried to choke me with it. I wish it would go away; I hate having a reminder there. I have enough scars to remind me of shit.

I decide I need to go out and try to pickpocket someone. That'll make me feel better, and I better start practicing doing it with adults and not just people at school. I really don't want to get under that $200 amount.

I get ready for the day and head out. Shortly after locking the door and walking down the stairs, there are guys standing around that are always there. They usually stare at me but have never said anything. Apparently, that isn't happening today because as I walk by, one steps in front of me.

“Look here, boys, the bitch’s face is finally healing up. Maybe we can have some fun now and leave some new marks. Wouldn't want her to lose the color on her face that made her pretty.”

The other guys all laugh, and I tense up.Okay, breathe. Don't panic. Turn around and run back to the room. You can get in fast. It'll be okay.

Before I can even try to turn around and run back upstairs, two of them step up behind me and block my way. One of them whispers in my ear, "Pretty scar you got there." He reaches forward and runs his finger down the scar on my face. "Maybe I should put another one on the other side to match." He cackles.

My whole body freezes up on me before I can even think of what to do.

Then the asshole in front of me pulls me to the side of the building and shoves me hard against the wall. I hit my head and feel my vision go in and out.

Don't pass out, don't pass out. Who knows what would happen if I did? I try to push him off, but he starts hitting my stomach hard, and I can't stop him.Why is this happening to me? Why can I not catch a break? I don't understand. I just want to be left alone.

When he goes to tear my pants down, I lose it.

This can't happen again. You are supposed to be stronger, Harley!

I scream as loud as my damaged voice allows, I scratch, hit, bite, kick, anything at all. I can feel my body protesting, but I refuse to be a victim.Not again.They all back off some when I don’t stop. Asshole one says, “Shit, what the fuck is wrong with the bitch? She bit me. She’s fucking feral. Let’s leave her.”

They move away some but then asshole two says, “I don't know, man, I like them a little crazy.” He steps forward, and I kick him in the balls as hard as I can, then take off running.

I don't stop. I can't. Just keep running. Don't stop.

---