Chapter one.

As Tracey slipped her feet into her fluffy warm slippers, she glanced across the room at her duffle bag and suitcase. They were packed with enough things to last a two week holiday, but they weren’t bursting at the seams.

    ‘Yarrawonga today.’ She sighed, almost wishing she hadn’t gotten out of bed.

Tracey had woken with a start that morning. It wasn’t uncommon for her to have crazy nightmares that she didn’t understand. But something about the one that had woken her this morning was weird and creepy.

She yawned and scuffed over to the big window with her head hanging. It wasn’t that Yarrawonga wasn’t appealing to her, it was just that she felt like the trip had been forced onto her by her parents and her brother Alex would probably do his usual annoying crap in the car all the way there.

    ‘Six hours of Alex!’ she complained quietly to the open air, ‘six hours of hell!’

Her clenched fists turned white at the knuckles and she stiffened her arms by her side, taking in a lungful of air and trying to calm herself.

 She finally shrugged her shoulders after a brief moment of consideration.

‘I can only make the best I can out of a bad situation,’ she sighed in quiet defeat as she left the room dragging her feet and running her fingers through the back of her shoulder length hair to detangle a couple of knots.

She went into the kitchen still feeling depressed about having to go. She’d turned eighteen two months ago so why was the strict strangle hold of rules still tying her down? Why did she let her parents tell her what to do? Two questions she didn’t like the answer to.

She wasn’t really accepted amoungst her peers growing up because she believed she was smarter than them and they knew she really was – her IQ test had proven that in grade five.

Tracey had never been much of a follower. Her peers would deliberately do things to test their boundaries but Tracey never saw the point.

Now it was apparent that she’d always been a bit of a goody-goody two shoes and she was also a bit of a loner who didn’t really feel worthy of having close friends. In the whole scheme of things she’d pretty much made herself a puppet to her parents wants and desires and never really embraced who she herself wanted to be. It was the reality of her life and probably partly because of the way she had been raised.

Mum said, ‘Morning Trace,’ as she struggled into the room wrestling arms full of towels.

    ‘Morning Mum,’ Tracey answered, ‘what’s with all the towels?’

    ‘Taking them with us.’ Mum grunted as she stuffed them into an already over filled stripey bag.

    ‘Right…’ Tracey said in disbelief.

Tracey knew her mother had a problem but she never believed it would seem this bad! She was a perfectionist with so many things.

Mum glanced up, ‘You remember last year, Tracey,’ Mum reminded her, ‘we got there and had to wash all the towels in the unit because the cleaner hadn’t done her job?’

Tracey hated that memory. Her mother had gone frantic carting twenty or so towels all the way to the laundry that was there for the convenience of the people staying at the resort. She’d taken over both washing machines to get all the towels clean, after which she had sent Dad into town to buy them each a brand new towel which she expected them to use for their evening showers while the other ones dried. But Tracey had been allergic to the chemical dressing in the fabric on the towel, which was supposed to be washed out before use and she broke out all over with a nasty and embarrassing rash.

Tracey frowned at her mother, ‘Don’t remind me,’ she retorted.

Alex was sitting in the corner snickering with his eye staring at the little screen on his iPhone. Tracey just glared at him, trying not to rock the boat.

She was glad when they were finally in the car and on their way. Surprisingly, Alex was being very well behaved. She didn’t doubt that it was because Mum had convinced Dad to buy him that iPhone a few weeks ago. Yuppy! Tracey thought.

She decided to keep to herself and read her books in the car. It meant she didn’t feel bored and the time always seemed to go faster when she was reading a good story.

By the time Dad pulled the car into a parking space in the quiet little town of Yea, She had finished the final three chapters of the book she was reading and started on the next book in the series.

    ‘Toilet stop kids.’ Dad said quite bluntly.

Mum added, ‘And lunch stop if you’re hungry?’

Tracey was glad to be able to stretch her legs. Mum opened the boot of the car and pulled out a cooler containing sandwiches she had made. Tracey took a ham, cheese and lettuce one and held it under her chin while she unzipped her duffle bag. She grabbed out a singlet top and backed away from the car. She ate her sandwich on the way to the toilet block and tossed the plastic wrap into the bin. She changed out of her t-shirt and into her singlet top in the toilet block. The spring heat was quite intense – just a hint of the stifling summer that was approaching.

On her way back to the car, She took a quick detour past a little coffee shop. She looked at the snacks available and decided on a can of coke and some cheezles. Not the healthiest option but she was on holidays. It was a treat to herself.

She handed the lady behind the counter correct change and stepped back outside into the crisp dry heat.

Glancing over to the car, she could see Alex sitting in the seat behind her Father with his feet dangling under the open door. He must have really thought he was someone important the way he was sitting there trying to look hot in his mirrored sunglasses and tight black t-shirt. Tracey ignored him and went around to her own side of the 90’s model Ford. Mum was already in the car too. She had her window down and her elbow resting on the door.

    ‘Man it’s hot,’ Tracey complained, ‘are we sure it’s not summer?’

Mum let out a fruity giggle, ‘It is quite warm today. I bet you can’t wait to get there so you can go for a swim.’

Tracey paid no attention to Mum’s remark. The truth was she wasn’t looking forward to going swimming at all because it meant she would have to get into her bathers and be seen by other people. She sighed, rested her head against the closed window and just watched the scenery move past the car in a blur, then it all went blank.

When Tracey woke it was to the sensation of her annoying 15 year old brother, Alex sliding her book under the side of her bum.

    ‘Stop it, Alex!’ she grumbled, a little croaky in the voice from having been asleep for a while. She felt groggy and sweaty and she couldn’t wait to be able to relax under a hot shower.

Alex grinned at her, ‘Stop it Alex!’ he echoed, pulling an incredibly annoying face.

Mum tried to turn her head around far enough to see them, ‘Both of you stop it!’ she asserted, ‘I’ll not have the pair of you starting up your usual annoying behaviour.’

Mum certainly meant business and even though Tracey really hadn’t done anything wrong, she didn’t dare to argue with her mother. She turned her head back to the window and realised they were just coming into Yarrawonga.

Finally. She thought, feeling a bit relieved that Alex had left her alone most of the way.

When they pulled up at the resort Tracey decided to get out and walk to their unit.

    ‘I’ll meet you over there, Mum.’ She said as Dad went into the office to collect the keys.

    ‘OK honey.’ Mum agreed.

And with that Tracey went for a wander around the resort in the fresh air.

She always liked to check everything out when she arrived there because the management people were always changing things around.

This year the resort wasn’t really any different to the previous year. She smiled and breathed in deeply, the fresh air almost becoming part of her essence. ‘I’m glad I came.’ She muttered under her breath. The air smelled so good. Someone was barbequing meat and onions and the aromas were teasing her senses as she walked around. Crickets were beginning to chirp. It was very late afternoon but Tracey didn’t have a watch on her arm and she couldn’t be bothered reaching into her pocket for her phone to check the actual time.

She made it to the unit and Mum and Dad had already nearly finished unpacking the car.

Tracey saw her small case and her duffle bag resting against the sofa bed nearest the door. The three-seater next to it was occupied by mum’s huge pile of towels.

Drats. She thought in annoyance. Alex had commandeered the upstairs bedroom again. When they were kids they used to share the room but for the past three years they had taken it in turns of one sleeping up there and one sleeping on the sofa bed. The sofa bed was uncomfortable, lumpy where the thin mattress poked through between the springs and just a general recipe for a bad back. Tracey had had to sleep on it last year. Now apparently Mum and Dad had allowed Alex to take the upstairs room again meaning she would have to sleep on it again this year.

    ‘Why do I have to be stuck with this rotten old uncomfortable thing again?’ she kicked the base of it. She sighed deeply and noticed Alex was leaning over the banister, smirking at her.

    ‘Ahh the life of luxury.’ He sneered as he moved away from the banister and Tracey heard him jumping on the bed like a petulant little brat.

    ‘Mum why do I have to have the sofa bed again? I didn’t even want to come. But this is ridiculous!’ Tracey snorted abruptly. She felt a flash of anger force its way up her neck and into her face.

    ‘It’s just a bed honey.’ Mum snapped.

Tracey knew not to argue with that tone. ‘Yeah I suppose so.’ She conceded, not really convinced deep down.

I need to get out of here, She thought. I need to be away from them all; all three of them!

She was feeling trapped now and her depression was starting to kick her in the guts.

    ‘Going for another walk, Mum.’

She called it out as she stepped out of the unit not even waiting for a response and she wandered off in the cooling afternoon air.

Tracey had probably walked around the place three or four times. She wasn’t counting, but she felt a little better. She stepped inside the unit and slipped her shoes off and kicked them under the lamp table that would be her bedside table for the next two weeks.

Mum was in the kitchen, ‘Are you hungry, Trace?’ Her words were quiet and rational.

    ‘Not really, Mum,’ Tracey replied, ‘but thanks anyway. I’m going to make up my bed and have a shower.

    ‘OK honey. Well there’s some left over kebabs in the fridge if you get hungry. Alex has gone for a swim and your father and I are going to turn in and watch some pay TV.’

With that, Mum wandered off down the narrow passage through the galley kitchen into the back bedroom, which was the only room in the whole unit that had a proper double bed.

The unit had always seemed huge to Tracey when she was a kid but now it just seemed to lack privacy and space.

The lounge, dining and galley kitchen were all part of the one space. The bathroom and toilet was off the kitchen and the upstairs bedroom sat above the back bedroom with a small landing that overlooked the lounge and a carpeted staircase that curved at the bottom.

Tracey took a breath and set about fixing the bed for herself. She dragged a doona out of the linen cupboard under the bottom five steps – the cupboard that Alex used to try and lock her into when they were younger – and she threw it over her bed.

    ‘Home sweet home,’ she sighed, ‘for two weeks, anyway.’

Once she was done with her bed, she thought about eating something but her appetite really was missing in action. The depression she was feeling and the constant feeling that she was trapped with her parents, smothered and still being treated like a little girl was agonising.

One day soon I’ll have a job and I can leave. She thought as she went into the bathroom to take her shower.

The blissful hot water sprayed onto her smooth skin and she almost felt her mind drifting away to some far place then suddenly the moment was disturbed.

    ‘Go to them.’ A voice from nowhere said.

Tracey’s eyes shot open and her body, paralysed by fear, began to tremble. Her eyes looked around her. She wiped the steam from the glass screen on the shower to look out into the bathroom. There was nobody there.

    ‘Must have been the TV in Mum and Dad’s room.’ She muttered to herself.

This sort of thing had been happening to her all her life. She’d hear weird voices and explain them away somehow. She never mentioned it to anyone though. She was too afraid they would throw her in the nut house.

She finished her shower and got herself dry and dressed into her daggy cat skeleton pyjama pants and her musical genius t-shirt, which was black with a funny outline of a head with a treble clef for a brain.

She slipped the bath mat over the towel railing and wrapped her towel around her wet hair. Feeling refreshed, she bounced happily over to the sofa bed and tried to get comfortable.

After fighting with her pillow for about half an hour, Tracey finally decided to give up and she sprawled out on the three seater instead with her pillow and a sheet.

When Tracey opened her eyes the next morning she was surprised to have not really remembered dreaming. It was unusual but a pleasant surprise at least.

As she yawned she could smell freshly fried bacon and eggs. But she wasn’t hungry enough to eat it.

    ‘Morning, Trace,’ Mum said cheerfully, ‘would you like some bacon and eggs?’

Tracey stretched her arms and unswathed the sheet from around herself.

    ‘No thanks, Mum. I’ll just grab some toast and a coffee. I’m gonna go for a walk into town.’

Mum smiled at her, ‘OK, honey. Would you mind picking me up a loaf of bread while you’re out?’

    ‘Sure, Mum,’ Tracey yawned as she grabbed a slice of toast off the plate in the middle of the table and went to pour herself a coffee.

She scoffed the toast and gulped down the milky bitter liquid quickly and grabbed a clean change of clothes out of her bag.

    ‘I’m not sure what time I’ll be back, Mum.’ Tracey  told her mother as she squeezed past her in the kitchen to get into the bathroom, ‘but I’ll have my mobile phone on me.’

Mum flashed her eyes in Tracey’s direction. Tracey knew that look.

Mum’s response came out as a bark rather than an order. ‘We need the bread for lunch, so I’ll expect you back by then!’

Tracey was tired of being ordered around. ‘Fine, Mum!’ She grumbled as she closed the bathroom door between her and her mother and began to get changed.