My Destiny Ch 11

Welcome to the next chapter in Elizabeth Richards' life. Originally, this was where I intended to start the story, but as I developed my original draft and watched the main characters develop their own stories, I chose to give you, the reader, more than just a single condensed chapter.

My main character has been given a complex story starting from her being a victim of unspeakable domestic violence through to a life dictated by her own desires and perfectionist personality. Elizabeth is bi-sexual but leans towards her long term same sex desires.

While you could take this chapter as a standalone, I encourage you to start at the beginning to get the background elements I have presented.

I am introducing PTSD and mental health struggles that our veterans and first responders encounter. PTSD is a very cruel mistress, those who give their lives to the service of their countries can embrace. I have simplified the symptoms for the story but left enough details for the reader to get a feel of the illness.

As always I look forward to your comments and feedback, I hope you enjoy this next chapter.

"I don't need this shit tonight"

, I screamed as I kicked my bag in frustration.

I had only been back in Washington for a few days after being recalled from my current UN deployment to Ukraine. I was halfway through my latest 12-month detachment to the UN War Crimes Commission when I was withdrawn from the field and, along with my current second in command, dumped into a heavy lift military aircraft that was bound for the United States. It was only after the plane took off that we found out the reason for this unplanned trip, we were required to front a congressional panel to discuss our current investigations.

The nearly 12 hours stuck in the cargo hold of the transporter did little to improve my mood. The thought of spending my time answering questions from politicians and self-important twats made my blood boil. I had fronted many of these committees during my time as a field investigator, none had been of use or benefit for the important work I was involved with.

After we were landed, we were met by some congressman's aide who tried to sound important as he ushered us to a waiting car. The drive to our destination was quick but still gave my mood time to grow worse as we were taken straight to the congress building instead of our accommodation.

It was apparent from the minute the door shut behind us for the "secret" discussion that this was not the usual useless fact-finding committee, but rather the start of some panicked political cover-up. For the next three days, I was interrogated, questioned, and threatened by a group of white house executives, politicians and government lawyers. They were not interested in our findings, rather they wanted me to agree to "clean up my findings along the diplomatic lines" that would not create unnecessary issues for the Presidential office or the Russian Government. I was not surprised by the direction the discussions headed, but unfortunately for their plans, they picked the wrong person to participate in their whitewashing arse covering exercise. My integrity had never been for sale, a fact the committee chairman struggled to accept. They also overlooked that I worked for the Australian Govt and was assigned to the United Nations for the duration of my current deployment. Eventually, after receiving numerous threats about secrecy and national security, I was dismissed from the proceeding.

The early release from the politician's endless questions gave me several valuable free days before I needed to return to Ukraine. This time would allow me to decompress with a good book and pleasant music before I returned to the horrors of the battlefield.

My plans for a long hot bath and some well-earned peace were scuttled even before I made it to my room. My director had left a message with the hotel's concierge asking me to stop by his office for a "quick chat." As I knocked on his door, I knew two things for sure: first, the chat wouldn't be fast and second, I would not like what he was about to say.

At first, he kept the meeting light; he even offered to make me a coffee, which put me on edge, then, with the smile of the devil, he dropped his bomb. There was a formal function being hosted by some defence industry powerhouses being held that night and I had gratefully accepted an invitation to attend. I could have been knocked over with a feather when he dropped the news before trying everything in my playbook short of a good old-fashioned tantrum to avoid this torture. He allowed me to rant for a few moments before suggesting I hit the shops to find something more suitable to wear as my stained work shirt, cargo pants and boots were not suitable for the red carpet.

I kicked my bag again for good measure and let out a string of profanities ending in a good old "for fucks sake". Before, I sat on the bed and stewed in my self-pity.

The fact of the matter is that I was worn out and needed a break from my front-line duties. I had been pushing myself to the extreme for over twenty years, trying to prove myself. My lifestyle choices have caused me to live a nomadic life, jumping from one overseas investigation to another. I was very passionate and good at my job, but my management and various field commanders took my time, skills and knowledge for granted, and I let them.

My work and life choices came at a substantial personal cost in that I allowed the love of my life to drift away from me. Losing Bella was my greatest mistake in life. It is one mistake that I can never forgive or undo the damage it caused. While we remained in contact as friends, I never saw her descend into a hell of a marriage that saw her and her children abused for over ten years.

I had only discovered the hell Bella was living with her family ten months prior; I remember the horror of that late-night phone call from my friend Annie as clear as a bell. Between her sobs she told me Bella's parent had been killed in a traffic accident. They had died instantly when a piece of mining equipment fell off a passing truck and smashed through their windscreen.

I was on the road heading to my friends within half an hour of receiving that life-changing call. The 12-hour drive allowed my mind to travel through time back to when life was simple and how we all enjoyed each other's love and friendship. The trip, along with the next few days, was a haze. The interactions with the police and arranging a funeral were the hardest tasks I had ever been involved in, but with my sister Julie and our friend Annie, we helped Bella survive the loss of her parents and our loving and dear friends.

Bella was a shattered soul. Her bubbly personality was replaced by a lifeless zombie. She was stepping through the motions trying to survive her soul-crushing loss. At first, I put it down to her total grief, but then I noticed that around her husband, she would tense up and drop her head like she was in shame or frightened. I also noticed that her children, Margot and Kevin, acted tense around him.

The funeral was horrible, as was the wake, but near the end, while I was sitting with Bella, her husband came over, grabbed her shoulder and told her they were leaving as he was ready. He then said, "

I told you to never talk to lesbian slut again. Do you want me to beat the perversion out of you again?

" I stood up to confront him when he did the best thing for me but dumbest for his welfare; he backhanded me across the face.

The next few minutes were utter chaos. Ryan's cousin Bruce, a soon-to-be-retired police commissioner, came barrelling through the crowd like a wounded bull while I reacted and kicked this twat right in the balls before punching him in the face. I would have got a second hit in, except Bruce hit him with such force he needed an ambulance to take him on his way. There was total pandemonium for the next few moments as the fight rolled around the floor, Bella and the kids screamed while friends and family came to their aid.

As Bruce dragged the near unconscious twat out of the room Bella fell into my arms crying, and when I held her tight, she cringed. That was when my failure to my friend became real. I stood her up and pulled her blouse forward, revealing the bruises and scars. My rage boiled but nothing like Bruce's anger when he saw the damage to his only niece. Several family members had to hold him back from going another few rounds with the whimpering husband.

After her husband was placed in the back of an ambulance, safely secured with handcuffs, I took Bella and her children back to my house where I knew they would be safe from harm. Julie helped the kids get comfortable while I looked after Bella's needs. After I made up her bed, we sat on its edge and with her in my arms cried until we were empty. Eventually Bella fell asleep in my arms and as I rocked her I swore I would never allow these special people to be harmed again.

The next few days were a whirlwind of activity for us all. As the depth of their horror-filled lives became known, our focus turned into resetting their lives and safety. At first, her marriage was good; her husband had accepted her children, and they were happy. Her perfect life changed forever after one of my visits. When we greeted each other with a kiss followed by a tight hug, that in my mind, was very normal and platonic. After I left, he slapped her hard and questioned her about our relationship. In her fear, Bella told him we had been lovers at school. This news set him off, and she received a severe beating. Over the next few weeks, he apologised and excused his behaviour, but the beatings became more regular and harsh.

She tried to escape a few times but was always caught out and punished. Bella told me that the routine was always the same: abuse, me receiving the blame for her depraved behaviour before he would punch or whip her into submission. While this was enough for me to contemplate murder, what Margot and Kevin told me made my blood run cold. Both these lovely kids had been abused by their stepfather mentally, physically and sexually. They had both been digitally raped by their stepfather on more than one occasion. Margot was tormented worse with him telling her he was going to fuck the virginity out of her when she reached the right age.

All three found the courage to speak with the police and gave statements telling their side of the living hell that was their home life. These statements were enough to set a very pissed-off Bruce and his investigators to work. When the search warrants were executed, the police found thousands of child exploitation images on his computer. They also found a folder containing images of the sexual assaults he performed on Bella and her kids.

With the evidence and statements, the police had enough to convince a judge the safest place for this twat was actually behind bars to await trial. He was probably still crying when Julie helped Bella commence emergency divorce proceedings, pack up Bella and the kid's belongings, and move them into my home.

Julie managed to get a court order freezing all the marital assets, which included his secret bank accounts and hidden vintage cars and motorbikes, so he could not try to screw Bella over anymore. As it all turned out, his enemies numbered more than friends, and all his sins, even his second wife and family, became known.

While all the police and court action occurred, I arranged with Ryan's neighbour to manage the property until things settled down. Fortunately, Ryan had not yet commenced putting in crops, and there had been significant rain, so there was plenty of feed for the stock.

I was able to work from home for about six weeks before I needed to return to South to complete my pre-deployment training. It was going to be a 12-month stint investigating war crimes in Ukraine. The day I left Bella was the first time I ever felt ill with homesickness. I knew she was safe from harm, but I still loved her with all my heart and didn't want to leave her again.

The death of Hannah and Ryan, along with the abuse Bella and the kids had endured, was the final straw for a couple of really crappy years for me. First, I lost two very dear friends, Emma and Cassie, in a skydiving accident. The plane that was taking them on the jump lost power on take-off and crashed, killing all on board. Next, Annie's husband, Michael, was taken from us by a brain aneurysm. He had complained about a headache after work, and after kissing Annie, he turned to lie down, but as he turned, he collapsed. He never regained consciousness.

Just days after Michael's funeral, Annie went to see her doctor as she was feeling run down and out of sorts. The examination was the start of many hours of testing scans and biopsies before the doctor told her she had advanced stage four cancer.

I was still in town following Michael's funeral and Annie invited me to her place for a home-cooked meal with her and the kids. Over dinner, Annie calmly told us about her cancer and that she would be with Michael before the end of the year. Despite Annie's strength and calm, the news destroyed us. While Helena and Michael broke down in tears and hugged their mum, I sat in shock, hoping this was just some sick joke. I was speechless, my heart felt like it had been torn from my chest. I just couldn't accept my dearest friend was dying.

Annie allowed us to recover from our initial shock before calmly sharing our greatest secret, the truth about the children's birth mother. I always knew this day would come, but I was not ready then, and neither were the children. Helena and Michael were shocked with the news and just stared at both of us, not saying a word.

Annie died in my arms a short four weeks after her diagnosis. It hit us very hard seeing Michael's still fresh grave reopened so his beloved wife could join him in their final rest. The kids moved in with Bella Julie and their cousins after Annie passed. They had lost both their parents in a short time but also had to come to grips with our combined family secret. I knew it was going to take time for them to accept their new reality.

Now, here I was on the other side of the globe from my home, in a motel room, trapped into attending a function that I had zero interest or investment in just because my boss wanted to put me on display to a bunch of "important people". I couldn't help but wonder what I did to make my life so complicated and crap. I was mentally and physically exhausted, and if I was honest, I was at the end of my mental tether, I just had no more to give.

Despite being nearly 40, I still maintained my youthful and athletic body. I kept my bright red hair shoulder-length more for practicality than fashion. I was never one for makeup and always allowed my natural features and beauty to stand for themselves. Standing just over six feet, along with my no-nonsense personality, I stood out in a crowd whether I wanted to or not.

Tonight was going to be one of the occasions that I wanted to hide in the shadows so I could make an appearance before slipping quietly into the night. However, the fashion gods had other ideas. At such short notice, I could only hire a stunning blue backless gown that perfectly hugged my body. The tight material highlighted my pert breast and firm butt. The open back showed my scars, a present from my past, but I had long accepted them and couldn't care what anyone said if they saw them.

I kept my arrival to the last possible minute in the hope the usual meet and greet line would have finished but my luck had abandoned me that night. My host and his wife were excited about showing off their visiting UN war crimes investigator to all the rich and influential dignitaries in attendance, and were waiting in the foyer for my arrival. After exchanging pleasantries, I was ushered into the formal greeting line to wait my introduction to the event's organisers.

I tried to be polite with my hosts as I waited for my turn in the spotlight, not taking much notice of the people around me. All too soon I was at the head of the line when I noticed two familiar faces. My heart skipped a beat as I took the steps to stand in front of my past life.

I looked into the eyes of someone I hadn't seen or heard from in over 20 years. At first, they seemed to struggle to recognise me, but then the shock on their faces betrayed a wave of emotions. He dropped the glass of champagne he was holding while she put her hands to her mouth in shock. As the host introduced me, I held out my hand to shake his, and with a calm and controlled voice, I greeted them, hello, Father, Mother, you both look well.

The stunned silence from my parents and my hosts and the line behind allowed me to move forward and away from my parents. Even though I am not a drinker, I took a flute of champagne from one of the servers and moved outside to the gardens, giving me space to get my swirling mind in order.

I was looking out to the darkness hoping to find an escape when I sensed her presence. When I turned to face my mother, two decades of love, hate and loss swirled through my body. For someone knocking on the door of 60, she looked pretty good. Her beauty had weathered OK, and despite a slight sag in her breast and an extra bit of weight around her hips, she had maintained her stunning looks. I put down my glass and closed the gap between us; I noticed her fingers twitching with nerves and tears in her eyes before I took her in my arms and held her tight.

"

Hi mum, I missed you so much

."

Neither of us wanted to break our embrace just in case this precious moment was just a dream. For nearly twenty years, I have not seen this woman who sacrificed her time with me, her daughter, to ensure I lived the life I chose.

Her coldness, to me, the day I was banished from the family home planted a seed of hate towards her, and it just grew strong over time. It wasn't until nearly six months into my punishment that I learned some truth about her actions. After my father stole my virginity and almost whipped me to death, she knew she had to get me away from him and my twin, Eric. She manipulated my father into thinking he was punishing me for my impertinence and whatever other sin I had committed by sending me to the other side of the world to finish my education.

Mum even managed to get my father to hire a lawyer named Julie to be my guardian while I finished my education. Julie was a brilliant and funny lady who bent over backwards to look after my happiness and guided my path towards independence.

Julie and I became lovers and friends. She introduced me to my love of scuba diving, which we shared on countless dives. Our worlds as we knew them were shaken when, as a bit of a joke, we took one of the ancestry DNA tests, and the results showed we were full sisters. This "obvious error" was confirmed when we took a commercial test. It was an impossible result, but it was true anyway.

As my university studies ended, Mum's final influence came into play, and I dropped off my father's radar, vanishing from my old life. Her last message told me to "live your life to the fullest....and that she hoped that one day she would meet me again." I cried and held the woman who had the most positive influence on the direction of my life, I realised that destiny had finally brought me full circle and returned me to my origins.

When we broke, I kissed her before helping her sit on one of the available garden benches. While a little surprised by the kiss, she didn't pull back. I held her hand, not wanting to let go of her again while we composed ourselves.

I would have stayed with my mother the whole evening, away from the spotlight and other people, however, this simple desire was interrupted when my father's silhouette appeared at the function room doors. For all the love and hurt I felt for Mum, I had more hate and loathing for this man, who gave me nothing but contempt for the simple fact that I was born a woman and, therefore, not worthy of his attention or effort. Mum knew this was her signal to join him to mingle before dinner was called.