Path to Secrecy

All in a day's work

Copyright © 2014 by Shazzaam_

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Monday, 29th September, 11:00 am

I'm friends with the monster that's under my bed, get along with the voices inside of my head.

Rihanna's meaningful music blasted through my head as I tracked each tree whizzing past my window. My temple rested against its icy coldness, sending tingles along my skin and a shiver to caress my spine. The smooth performance of the Bentley Continental GT loosened the atmosphere, a congenial feeling making the negativity vanish into thin air. My eyelids gradually closed, my body ceasing the radiating drowsiness from the car's smooth performance. My hands slowly clasped together, my fingers entwining with such gentleness allowing the friction to suddenly increase its warmth.

"Hey, snap out of it."

Reawakening in shuddered movements, I blinked away the snooze that was so warmly inviting and sat up straighter. My hand curiously wiped an eyelid that felt the need to accept the former offer of sleep. Yet another enjoyable trip was on the horizon.

It was a bizarre Monday morning and unsurprisingly, we just so happened to be on a road trip. A one way trip, where our final destination will be a lasting. A painful nine months had breezed by since my father's accident and the decision to move on was finally, finalised. Although my mother, Andrea, more specifically stated it was on behalf of her clients who were apparently badgering about no opportunities to meet their favourite designer and her renowned skills of work, I judged it was for a new scenery.

Since my father's death, Andrea had taken the role of both a mother and a father dealing with many issues as an optimistic individual despite the grief we were succumbed in. Renowned as a fashion designer of the brand name 'Belleza' we never endured financial difficulties. Though after Jonathon's death, his insurance company had called to discuss the legal issues needed to be verified, Andrea handed the case to our lawyer barely prepared to return to reality. To say the distance between financial complications and my family couldn't possibly be calculated, even in the future.

"What?" I retorted, a deep frown smothering my forehead as I grouchily tugged one of my earphones out.

Andrea beamed a wicked grin, curving her lips at my attention. "Let's play a game. We have a long way ahead of us." She glimpsed at the road and I sucked in a deep breath, tugging out the other earphone.

"Fine."

She continued. "Okay, I spy with my little eye," she paused, wiggling her eyebrows before returning her vision back onto the road. I calmly stared at her, smiling slightly at her enthusiasm, "something begin-"

"Road."

She stuttered, blinking with mild confusion. I pursed my lips, nodding my head while following her line of sight. "Oh umm-"

"Tree."

"Hey!" She whined, slapping a hand over my eyes.

"Door." I tilted my head away, my blonde bangs falling over my cheek bone. I pushed them aside, the pearl ring on my finger gently tugging on a few hair strands.

Another grumbled stutter. "Wait!"

"Pimple- which oh so magically popped upon your nose." I edified dramatically. Initially, Andrea was wondering whether I was transmuting into some outrageous actor from a play. I gasped at her nose in turn causing her to flinch and horrifically check in the rear view mirror. She glared at me and I beamed, baring my teeth. "Gotchya."

The exaggerating trick had never failed in succeeding from when I could remember. Though I didn't entirely understand her outrage  over a feeble blemish that naturally developed under the skin. Now hypocritically, I wasn't one to talk due to my lack of experience within that department, but surely it was the works of television advertisements, whom would become bankrupt the second women discovered their rare beauty.