Broken

CHAPTER 1

Tears fell down Veronica’s face as she closed the door to the horrible life she was leaving behind. She walked out of her father’s house, got into her car, and drove. She didn’t even look behind her—she knew if she did, she could never leave her sisters to whatever fate awaited them. She took a deep, painful breath. She had never been so scared in her entire life. She led a life that would have most people sleeping with one eye open. The fear of the unknown was scarier than the monster she was leaving behind.

Sometimes in life, there are only two options, and in Veronica Burns’ case, both options had unfortunate endings. It wouldn’t have mattered what she chose; her fate was sealed. She was shaking, and her heart was beating so fast, but she was alive—even if she still had to deal with the effects of her tragic life. She didn’t know she was capable of such terrible things. She was broken. She was way past the deep end. She was drowning in her own pain and sorrow.

Veronica drove south for hours until her eyes were so heavy that she couldn’t see the road clearly. She pulled into a small town just off the highway and found a motel. It was cheap, and the guy at the front desk didn’t ask her for her ID. All the better. She paid for her room and left the office with a room key in tow. After retrieving her bags from the car, Veronica set off to find her room.

It was an old motel that didn’t look like it got a lot of business. The lighting in the room was dim; the walls were dark wood paneling, and the room had old red shag carpet. In the middle of the room was a double bed with brown and orange bedding. A musty smell greeted her the moment she opened the door, and it immediately turned her stomach. Veronica ran to the bathroom and threw-up until she thought there couldn’t possibly be anything left in her stomach. She sat on the cold, wet floor and cried. It wasn’t just the smell of the room making her sick. She was disgusted with herself. She hated the person she had become. And nothing, nothing could change it. Veronica Burns’ life was over.

She wiped her eyes and picked herself up off the icy floor, regained her composure and walked back into the primary space, making a beeline for the radio. She picked her bag up off the ground and threw it on the bed, digging around inside it until she pulled out the box of hair dye. A flashback of her father came to her mind.

"LOOK AT YOURSELF in the mirror. Your hair used to be golden like the sun. It used to sparkle like your mothers did—but now, look; it’s just dull and brown. He tugged at her hair. It hurt so much, and she feared he was going to pull it right out of her head. He shoved her face up against the bathroom mirror as he pulled out a box of blonde hair dye and a bag of makeup. Tonight is an important event for me, and I need all my girls to look beautiful. Fix yourself up. He let go of her hair and turned her around to look at him as he touched her face. I love you, sweetheart, and I want you to look your best. Daddy bought you a nice new dress to wear to the party tonight. It’s on your bed," he said in a soft, comforting voice, and then he kissed her forehead.

Veronica looked down at the hair dye in her hand. It was auburn with multi-tone highlights.

Well, this will work. I don’t want to look like this girl anymore. I want to be someone new, Veronica said aloud. She didn’t care that she was talking to herself; maybe she was crazy. After everything she had been through, how could she not be crazy?

She moved into the bathroom, popping the top on the box of hair dye as she went. Veronica applied the hair dye and then put a plastic bag over her head so it wouldn’t run all over her neck and face. Then she turned her attention to the bathtub, suddenly aware of her tense and aching muscles. It was a dated shower tub, but it was clean enough. Beggars couldn’t be choosers, after all.

She plugged the tub and turned on the facet, applying a liberal amount of body wash into the tub. Veronica was acutely aware of the way every inch of her body ached as she lowered herself into the warm bath; her arms, legs, and back were throbbing. But her stomach hurt the most. She had horrible, discolored bruises all over her body—but her stomach looked like she had been hit by a car. Veronica shut her eyes so she didn’t have to see it anymore and lay back in the bathtub. Even trying to relax, she thought back on her life and cried again.

"You are very special, Veronica, and I love you very much. You are so beautiful, with your blue eyes and golden hair, like me. Tears ran down her mother’s face as she tucked her into bed. No matter what happens in your life, remember I love you, and you are important to this world. Sometimes bad things happen, and we don’t know why, so we blame ourselves. Never blame yourself for anything bad that happens to you. Never blame yourself. You are perfect. You have made me so happy. I always wanted a daughter; that’s why I got you. Please forgive me for all the bad things I have done. I hope your life will be so much better than mine. Veronica’s mother touched her face and kissed her cheek. Sweet dreams, my darling."

The next day, they found her mother dead in her bed. She had overdosed on pain medication.

Veronica was confused and overwhelmed by the events of that night. The memories haunted her.

Veronica’s life had always felt different from other people’s lives, but she didn’t realize that until she was older. She never went to school with other kids; she had been homeschooled by her mother. Other than playing in the backyard, she never remembered leaving her house as a child. No one ever came over for visits, and if someone showed up unexpectedly, Veronica was told to play in the basement. Her bedroom and playroom were in the basement. She never met her grandparents or any of her parents’ friends or family. After her mother died, things really changed. Veronica’s father became a different man; he was strict and cold with her, and she felt like he didn’t love her anymore.

Veronica spent most of the year after her mother died locked in her room. Her father was angry and stressed out all the time. Veronica didn’t mind being alone, but she didn’t want her father to be mad at her. She believed her father blamed her for her mother’s death. She wanted to please him more than anything in the world. She just wanted to make her daddy happy.

One day, her father came home from work, and he was in a rare good mood. He let her out of the basement and made her dinner.

"Veronica, I am sorry the last few months have been so hard. But we are going to move into a new house in a new town, and life is going to get better for us," her father said, smiling at her. Veronica believed her father, and she had hope in her heart that things were going to get better.

They moved to a little town called Envy. Veronica was so excited to see her new house. It was a big, old Victorian-style house, all yellow brick with green shutters and a huge porch. The house came fully furnished. There was a bedroom with purple walls and a canopy bed. She couldn’t believe her eyes or her ears when her father told her that one was her bedroom. She was allowed out of the darkness of the basement to the light of a beautiful room.

Veronica felt like a princess; that was how happy she was. But she didn’t understand why she and her father needed a house with six bedrooms. Her father was right; things were getting better for them. He took her out to stores, and they did things together like fathers and daughters were supposed to do.

They weren’t in town long before Veronica’s father opened up his own practice. He had been a very successful lawyer back in the city. It didn’t take him long to do just as well in Envy. After a year, he became Harold Burns, Mayor of Envy. Everyone loved him. He was a great public speaker and played the role of the sweet widower, raising his only daughter by himself.

On Veronica’s thirteenth birthday, her father had planned a fundraiser to benefit the town. She watched the way her father spoke and interacted with people. She also noticed the way women looked at him. He could have had any woman there. Veronica hoped her father would marry again one day so she could have someone in her life, too.

Harold wasn’t the most attractive man, but he was a very smooth talker. He could convince people to do things his way easily. He was the kind of man that always got what he wanted.

After the fundraiser, Harold took Veronica out shopping and to dinner to celebrate her thirteenth birthday. It was the best day she could remember.

But that was when the happy times stopped, and everything changed. That was the first night Veronica slept in her father’s bed. That was the first time she wished she could go back to the basement, where she was protected by the darkness.

"You are a woman now; you’re old enough to make Daddy happy. You want to make Daddy happy, right?"

"Yes, of course, Daddy."

THE MEMORY MADE Veronica cry even more. It broke her heart thinking back. It seemed like every time Veronica thought her life was bad; it got worse.

After that day, Veronica became a replacement for her mother. She would cook and clean the house for her father and meet all his needs during the day and at night. She cried most nights during and after. But after a while, she just got used to it. The more she did what her father wanted, the better he would treat her, so she quickly learned to do what she was told. Her father even got her a tutor so she could be home schooled. Harold didn’t let Veronica go to public school, but she was very smart; things just came to her naturally.

Life got weirder when her father started adopting little girls. It was like he was collecting them for his sick and twisted needs. A new twelve-year-old girl was brought home every year until each bedroom housed a beautiful young girl. He would treat them as any loving father would. He bought them all beautiful things and made them adore him. Then, come their thirteenth birthdays, he would put their love to the test by taking away their innocence, and abducting their beauty.

All the girls stuck together and tried to take care of one another. They were sisters in every sense of the word. They took comfort because they had each other. But Veronica felt guilty and humiliated that someone other than her had to live that life. She wished she could set her sisters free from their prison, but she didn’t know how.

The girls were allowed to go to high school, to avoid rumors from the old nosy betty’s in their small town. It was easy to get away with one small young child being home schooled but not five teenage girls. The girls were so scared, they only did what they were told. They could not have friends outside of school hours. Veronica loved high school. It was the closest thing to freedom that she got to experience. She tried to take care of her sisters the best she could. Veronica always stood up for them when their dad was angry. She took the beatings for the other girls. Veronica felt responsible for her sisters, as she was the oldest, and Harold was her actual father. Veronica always felt guilty. If she could have been enough for her father, he wouldn’t have needed to hurt her sisters… but she wasn’t enough.

When Veronica was seventeen years old, she drove a bright blue Porsche. Harold had to work hard to keep up the image of his perfect life, as people in small towns are nosy and suspicious. He had to keep up that facade to keep his family secrets. Veronica was hopelessly devoted to making her father happy, but she was terrified of him, too.

VERONICA BROKE FREE from the memories, feeling the tears pour down her face. She could barely breathe. She was so ashamed of her actions, especially for leaving her sisters to fend for themselves. She had never been so selfish.

CHAPTER 2

VERONICA GOT OUT of the bathtub and dried herself off. She put on track pants and a t-shirt. She washed the dye out of her hair, wrapped a towel around her head, and walked back into the room to sit on the bed. She inventoried her funds. She had five hundred and twenty-seven dollars from her dad’s wallet, plus five-thousand dollars from what she stole from the safe.

That should last me a little while, Veronica thought to herself.

She kicked her bag off the bed and lay on top of the blankets. She dozed in and out of sleep all night, never turning off the radio or even the lights. She was too frightened to actually try to sleep. In the morning, Veronica grabbed the blow dryer, hair straightener, and makeup bag and went into the bathroom. She pulled the towel off her head and inspected the curled locks. The color looked almost burgundy, not brown. The hint of red made her think of the blood that had dripped off her fingers just hours before. Veronica shook her head and took a deep breath. She walked back into the room and found a pair of scissors in her bag. She returned to stand in front of the mirror, staring from the scissors to the edges of her hair.

Goodbye, she said with a sad, crooked smile on her face.

Veronica sheared off her long hair, stopping just above her breasts. She tossed the snipped locks into the garbage.

Then she focused on drying her hair. She opened the makeup bag and pulled out a shine serum, running it through her hair.

The hair dryer was replaced by the straightener. As it heated, she went to her bag and pulled out some clothes. Veronica put on a pair of jeans and a blue turtleneck and dressed. She had to hide all her bruises and scars. She bent down and put socks on her cold feet—only to pull up short, crying out as pain shot up from her abdomen. She stuffed her feet into her white running shoes before hurrying back to the bathroom. The cramping in her stomach was unbearable. Was that blood in the toilet? She whimpered in pain but cleaned herself up and hunted down a pad. Good thing she brought those—she knew she should go to the hospital, but that wasn’t an option.

The straightener was hot. Veronica straightened her hair in small sections. She took the scissors again and cut side bangs. She wanted to look like someone else, to be someone else. She hated looking at the person staring back at her in the mirror.

When she could do nothing more for her hair, she studied her complexion. She was a mess—her eyes were black and puffy, and she was covered in bruises. She pulled out the makeup bag and with cover-up; she hid the marks on her face and neck as best she could.

Veronica tried out new techniques with her makeup, experimenting until she was happy with the result. After a few minutes, she set the brushes and compact down, smiling to her reflection in the mirror. She didn’t look like Veronica anymore. Veronica Burns no longer existed.

Hello, Calisaya. Yeah, that sounds good. From now on, I am Calisaya, or Cali for short—even better. She smiled at herself. Yeah, I like that. Cali.

Cali packed up her things and checked out of the motel. She had no plan, no idea of where she was going or what she was going to do. She just knew she had to drive. To keep going.

So Cali drove for days. She slept in her car and only stopped for gas and food, and only when necessary.

Cali was bleeding pretty heavily; she needed help but didn’t know what to do. She stopped for gas but could barely pump it; she was in so much pain. She used the bathroom to clean herself up and bought some bandages and pain meds. That would have to do for now. As she was checking out, she bought a disposable phone. She knew she had to be careful, but she also knew she could not relax ever if she didn’t check in with her sisters. As she was walking back to her car, she noticed a restaurant just as her stomach was grumbling. It was about dinner time, and she realized she hadn’t eaten all day. She needed something other than fast food, so she went in.

Welcome to Barley’s Grill. A friendly young woman smiled in a greeting. Table for?

One, Cali sighed. She noticed the server’ nametag said Molly. She looked around the restaurant at all the couples and families out for dinner. She followed the server to the back of the restaurant to a small booth. She felt really lonely in that moment in her life.

Specials tonight are barbeque ribs with potatoes and coleslaw. Beer battered fish and chips and our famous barbecue chicken dinner with potatoes and steamed veggies. Molly smiled as she handed Cali the menu. Can I get you something to drink to start?

The chicken dinner sounds good. I’ll have that, and can I have an orange juice to drink? Cali smiled as she handed the server sat at the back of the restaurant and watched the way people were laughing and talking. It came to her attention that she didn’t know how to act normal or be normal. What was normal, anyway? She didn’t know, but she knew her life had definitely not been normal or happy. She really didn’t have friends other than her sisters; she didn’t know how to use social media, and her father would never have allowed that, anyway. Only her little sister, Claudia, could get away with things like that, but she differed from the rest of them. Cali tried to hold back her tears as she was suddenly overwhelmed. She was watching a father coloring with his daughter in the booth next to her. That’s the way a father should treat his little girl.

Cali set up her disposable phone and her hand shook as she was typing the number. She needed to make sure her sisters were ok; she had to find out what was happening. She was full of anxiety, and she could hardly take a breath. The server set Cali’s orange juice down in front of her, and Cali put the phone away. She would wait until she was alone to make that call.

Cali enjoyed every bit of her dinner; it was the best thing she had eaten in weeks. She enjoyed watching people in the restaurant. She needed to blend in, and she needed to be normal, so she didn’t stand out. Cali opened her bag and pulled out her father’s tablet, and she looked up where she was. She did not know what she was doing, why she was even running or where she was headed, but she knew she had to keep going.

The restaurant had died down, and the server finally came over to get her plate. I am so sorry I took so long; we are short staffed, and I am still new at this, Molly sighed tiredly.

Not a problem; you’re doing a superb job. I’m in no rush. I enjoyed my dinner. Thank you. Cali gave her a synthetic smile.

Can I get you a coffee to go? It’s my treat to you for your patience, Molly asked with a sweet voice.

That would be lovely, as I have to drive most of the night, Cali admitted.

Where are you headed? Molly asked as she was clearing the table.

North, Cali sighed; she really didn’t have a plan.

The server brought her over a coffee with the bill, and Cali left her a nice tip. Awe, thank you. I hope you have a safe trip. Molly smiled.

Cali stood up and reached for her bag, but the pain in her stomach was so bad she moaned in agony. She looked down at herself and saw that she was bleeding through her clothes. She took a deep breath and tried not to panic. She couldn’t catch her breath; her heart raced and head was spinning.

Ma’am, are you okay? asked the server as she watched Cali fall to the floor.

Cali opened her eyes. It took a few minutes before she got her vision back. Taking a deep breath, she looked around. Her memories were coming back to her slowly. She was in a small room of what looked like a doctor’s office, and when she looked down, she was wearing a gown. That was when the panic started. After frantically looking around the room, Cali found her bag on the floor and realized she wasn’t handcuffed to the bed. Okay, that’s good, she thought. But she didn’t know how she was going to get out of this situation without being found.

When she finally caught her breath, she tried to sit up, but she was hooked up to an IV and other machines. She touched her stomach and felt stitches, but the pain wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been. Just then, the door opened, and a doctor that appeared to be in her late forties walked in with a clipboard in her hand. Cali laid back in the bed as she tried to pay attention to what the doctor was telling her. She wasn’t ready to accept everything she had been through. She heard stitches and something about surgery. She recalled the doctor telling her they couldn’t find an ID, so she needed to fill out a medical form. But she couldn’t pay attention; she was in full-blown panic mode. She was worried about medical insurance and leaving a paper trail.

Suddenly, everything faded into white noise. She was still really dizzy and exhausted, and before she knew it, she had drifted back to sleep while the doctor was talking.

Cali woke up and found it was dark in the medical center. She moved and discovered that she felt okay. She sat up and looked out the window. It was nighttime, and only one car was in the parking lot. She unhooked herself from the IV and got a bandage to stop the bleeding. She carefully got dressed and went to use the bathroom. Then she rummaged around in her bag for a piece of paper and pen and five hundred dollars to cover her care. She wrote out a quick thank you note for their help and left it and the money on the bed. She knew it wasn’t enough to cover her medical bills, but it was what she could afford to let