
To women everywhere battling to overcome life’s little tests. If I can do it, so can you!
To Mum and Dad. I will make you proud. I promise. The worst is over.

Also by M.G. Crisci
7 Days in Russia
Call Sign, White Lily
Donny and Vladdy
Ergonia. Land of Giant Ants
Indiscretion
Mary Jackson Peale
Only in New York
Papa Cado
Papa Cado’s Book of Wisdom
Project Zebra
Salad Oil King
Save the Last Dance
She Said. He Said.
Still Standing
This Little Piggy
Learn more at
mgcrisci.com
amazon.com/M.G.Crisci/e/B003509QRK
twitter.com/worldofmgcrisci
YouTube.com/worldofmgcrisci
Facebook.com/worldofmgcrisci

Also by Vicki FitzGerald
Briguella
Kill List
Still Standing
Learn more at
vickifitzgerald.com
Twitter.com/AuthorVickiFitz
Facebook.com/vickifitzgeraldauthor
Instagram/vickifitzgeraldauthor
YouTube.com/vickifitzgeraldauthor
Copyright© 2020 by M.G. Crisci and Vicki FitzGerald
All rights reserved,
Including the right of reproduction
In whole or in part in any form.
Orca Publishing Company, USA
Edited by Robin Friedheim and Darren Bane
Cover Design by Gold World Media
ISBN 9781456634414
Manufactured in the United States of America
First Edition
1.
THE BRINY DEEP
“In the end, one needs more courage to live than to kill themselves.”
― Albert Camus
2017…
How the hell did I come to be in this place?
Demons riddled my inner self. Hate, anger, bitterness, and sadness attacked relentlessly and randomly. Sledgehammers rocked my being. How to make this madness stop? I just wanted to be normal again, but I knew there was no route back to normal.
Circumstances had changed me forever. I knew I couldn’t be fixed; I’d been broken too long. I was abandoned and rejected. All that remained were randomly shaped, disjointed pieces of my former self, unable, or perhaps unwilling, to form any coherence. Any logic I once possessed had been crushed beneath a mass of terribly poor choices.
I was no longer in control. I felt hollow, as though my insides had been carved. My body robotic, no longer connected to my soul, had driven me to this desolate seashore. I wanted my inner demons to be punished. No, I wanted me to be punished! The ominous dark clouds would be my final canvas.
I dragged myself toward the angry white foam. A bright full moon reflected the haggard shell of the dreadful creature I no longer recognized. I felt the sea spray whip hair strands across my face, lashing my cheeks. Again, and again.
Oddly, my leg started to vibrate. A forgotten mobile phone buried deep in my pocket began to call silently; it added to the madness of the moment. Instinctively, I knew it was John. I longed to say my final goodbye, but I knew he’d talk me out of killing myself. When things were right, he had that kind of calming presence. This time, I would have none of it. I howled wantonly, as I continued towards my destiny.
I closed my eyes and leaned forward, preparing to let go. I could feel the power of the waves smashing against the craggy cliffs. I would take one final deep breath before tumbling into the briny deep, and eternal damnation. I felt it was all I deserved.
My phone vibrated again. I hesitated for what seemed like an eternity. Why should I answer? Reluctantly, I pulled it from my pocket. It was another voicemail from John. I was torn; one side of me wanted to finish what I had begun; the other wanted to hear his voice one final time. After all we had done to each other, I still loved him.
I pressed the phone against my damp hair, closed my eyes, and listened as I entered the sea. “Vicki, please come home. We can work things out. I love you. Emily and Matthew need their mother. You are their true North…and mine.”
Tears cascaded down my cheeks. I’d thrown my life away and I was full of regret, but I couldn’t turn back the clock and erase it.
I stared into the dark abyss as the waves grew ever more violent. I wondered. Was redemption even remotely possible? A wave smacked me in the face. It was my answer. I began the struggle back to shore.
A few feet from the safety of dry land, my legs collapsed; I crashed to my knees. The angry waves rumbled, but I no longer wanted to die. I dug my hands into the sand and hung on for dear life. My willowy body shivered in the foreboding darkness. I could taste the wet sand fill my mouth.
Fate, or something, intervened; the waves began to recede. I gathered myself, clawed and dragged my physically and emotionally spent body to the safety of the promenade. I lay motionless as the moon reappeared from behind the clouds. My heart was pounding a thousand beats a minute.
I promised myself, “Never again.” I lied.
2.
WONDERFUL WORLD
“We are not given a good life or a bad life. We are given a life. The rest is up to us.”
― Ward Foley
1981…
My childhood was WONDERFUL—not a care in the world.
I basked in the sunshine of an innocent, untroubled childhood surrounded by laughter, hugs, and smiles, the compliments of a deliriously happy Mum and Dad, two loving grandparents who had courted from their teenage years, and an older sister, Shelly, who was my guardian and protector.
Shelly and I were treasured from the moment we were born, and I felt cherished just for being me.
Because of my support circle, I always felt safe, never afraid, and I knew if ever I fell, Mum and Dad would pick me up and mend my wounds. I was fortunate to have such a wonderful life and family.
Importantly, while I never wanted for anything, I wasn’t a spoilt brat. We were taught about the values of money, dignity, and respect, values that I still hold dear—despite all that has happened.
Bonds