Living (Paperback)

Pages : 400
ISBN : 9781999676377
Weight : 381g
Dimensions : 203 x 22 x 127 mm

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- Sapphic romance
- Grief / depression
- Sexual awakening
- Celebrity

Ella buried her feet in the cold sand as the ocean washed over her toes. It was still dark, and the beach was deserted. She took a deep breath in a fruitless attempt to fight the nausea that was slowly spreading through her, then checked the time on her phone. It was 5:30 am. Not that it mattered, it wasn’t like she had anywhere to go after this. That thought brought her on the verge of a panic attack, but she turned her attention back to the ocean anyway and faced it.
The current looked strong, the water making a loud whooshing noise each time it covered her feet, before retreating silently. That was a good thing, she supposed. Maybe the storm was a sign that today was the day. She’d already been here twice, and she’d managed to overcome her despair on both occasions, something inside her telling her that maybe tomorrow she’d feel better. But she hadn’t felt better, and she knew nothing could take away the deep sadness inside her, the hole in her soul, that for some reason was only getting bigger, contrary to what her therapist had assured her would happen. She didn’t feel whole anymore, and she didn’t know how to be without Helena.
Her sister had always been the one to keep her grounded, and she’d been the only one able to make her laugh. Ella hadn’t laughed in two years, since Helena died. She’d worked hard and had done what was expected of her. She’d gone through life on autopilot, putting on a smile when required. But she couldn’t be in crowds anymore, and apart from a couple of appearances to promote her movies, she hadn’t given a personal interview since before that night. It was a miracle she was still able to continue her career in the movie industry. Going out at her peak was probably for the best because if she didn’t, there would be no career left if she carried on ignoring her fans and the people who mattered in Hollywood.
The second anniversary of Helena’s death had seemed like a fitting date, two nights ago, when she drove around aimlessly, desperate to get away from her life. Playa del Rey Beach was the most peaceful place she’d been able to find then, and now, she knew it was her only way out. The only way to see her again.
Ella wobbled as her feet sank deeper into the wet sand. She was barely able to stand after washing down a couple of tranquilizers with half a bottle of vodka, the alcohol necessary in case she freaked out, lost her nerve and went back home, just like she had yesterday and the day before. Trying to fight the overwhelming nausea, she held onto her stomach and sank down on her knees. It wasn’t enough to stop her from vomiting, and within seconds, the vodka shot out of her mouth, creating a pool in front of her. She hadn’t eaten today. In fact, she couldn’t remember having eaten much at all in the past few days. She didn’t derive any joy from food anymore, or anything else for that matter.
A wave came up and washed the vomit away, tugging at her long, blonde hair, imploring her to venture into its depths. That would be her soon. Washed away. She grimaced at the sour taste in her mouth as she leaned forward and buried her head in her lap. Ella had thought about what would happen after she was gone, of course. The thought had all but consumed her. In a couple of hours from now, the director of her current movie would throw a tantrum on set, assuming she was late. He’d call her manager, who would then drive to her house, let himself in and realize Ella wasn’t home. Would he call her mother? Did he even have her number? And if he did, would her mother be worried about her? Or would she just shake her head in disappointment at Ella’s work-ethic and ignore the fact that she was missing? Ella wasn’t sure. Even though they didn’t speak anymore, she was fairly certain that her mother loved her, and that had been her only source of hesitation in her decision. She’d read somewhere that surviving a child was the worst thing that could happen to a person and her mother had already been through it once. She would be very, very rich though, after Ella was gone and perhaps that would be a small consolation. Her mother had always been about the money, and her talented daughters had been her way of obtaining it. As she got up again and stood there on the long, quiet beach, she realized she’d never felt so lonely in her life.
It was her birthday today, and it would have been Helena’s birthday too. Her manager had arranged a party for her tonight, with tons of A-listers in just the hotspot of the moment. It was supposed to be her first private social gathering in two years. Private perhaps wasn’t the right word, as she didn’t know any of her guests well, and there had been no one she’d been looking forward to seeing or meeting. The party would be talked about for years to come if they didn’t find her in time, and even if the first beach goers found her in an hour, the news of her death on the day of her big party would certainly make for an amazing story, giving her invitees the chance to display their ‘humanitarian’ side and align themselves with mental-health charities in order to increase their appeal. That was how it worked in her business. Nothing was real.
The vodka gloom spread in the pit of her stomach and grew deeper, just as she’d expected. Then again, she knew that without it, she’d never have the courage to do what she was about to do. Carefully, she set one foot in front of the other and made her way into the water. The back of her long, white dress dragged behind her, the hem swirling wildly in the current. She thought she heard a voice but didn’t look back, instead wading faster into the water, the level now reaching up to her knees. The last thing she wanted was to be ‘saved’ because the consequences of surviving would be unbearable. Even more paparazzi following her around, even more headlines.
‘Ella Temperley attempts to drown herself on Playa del Rey Beach’. Or: ‘Star of ‘Born Naked’ walks into the sea. Chasing headlines or cry for help?’ People she hardly knew would wrap an arm around her and ask her how she was holding up without any real concern while putting on their warmest smile for the paparazzi. Her mother would probably grab the opportunity to write another book, just like she had after Helena’s death, spilling her most intimate secrets.
The voice behind her grew louder now, and there was no doubt that someone was calling her. Ella started wading as fast as she could but wasn’t making much progress. It felt like running on a treadmill, and although it didn’t seem like she was moving, the water reached up to her waist now. An imposing wave crashed against her and she was suddenly dragged down, the force of the ocean tumbling her around and making her lose her bearings. She didn’t fight it for the first few seconds, disorientated and confused. Her first reaction was to swim back up, but she kept spinning and didn’t know which way was up anymore. The real panic hit her when she realized that she wouldn’t be able to take her next breath. She’d just breathed out when she was dragged back under, aware that there was no oxygen left in her lungs. Wasn’t that the whole point? Wasn’t this what she wanted? She scrambled around, desperately searching for the way up, her eyes wide open but unable to see anything. Oh my God, I’m going to die. Her heart was beating so fast and hard that she could feel her own pulse like a deep bass as she started flailing wildly, desperate to get some air. Her feet and hands reached up and down but the water was now so deep that she couldn’t even find the ocean floor. Never in her life had she been so scared and never in her life had she wanted to live so badly. Right then, Ella knew she’d made the biggest and the last mistake of her life. The pain in her chest was excruciating and the darkness before her eyes turned to white as she had no choice but to give in to her screaming lungs and open her mouth, breathing in, liquid flooding her body causing what seemed like a never-ending stream of pain, panic and desperation. Her muscles spasmed, gave up, and she couldn’t move. Then, her conscience faded into nothing.