Total Freedom (Total Freedom Series Book 1) Read online

  Total Freedom

  Ann Pratley

  Text copyright 2015 Ann Pratley

  All Rights Reserved

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Thank you!

  Upcoming Release: Total New Beginnings

  Introducing: Painful Deliverance

  Introducing: Darkness of Heart

  Introducing: Friendship of Desire

  Introducing: Alessandra

  Introducing: Cruising Through to Fulfilment

  New Release: The Golden Desires

  About The Author

  Chapter 1

  The Drabs, that's what we had been known as, as a band in our home town of Dunedin, New Zealand. We weren't the greatest band and only played a couple of original songs, but we were happy doing what we were doing and over time the crowds did seem to come to love us. That was back in the days of what seemed to be equally the best and worst time of my life. Things have changed so much since then.

  When I was 14 years old I attended high school like any other 14 year old, I dressed like any other 14 year old, and I got abused like any other overweight 14 year old - and like too many 14 year olds, I couldn't handle the abuse and as a result I let myself go and believed every word of what I was told. No friends, fat, ugly and totally useless. That's what I was told by people all around me - particularly my 'loving parents' and that was what I became.

  Even as a teenager I was well aware of the concept of nutrition and weight maintenance, but day after day everything just felt painful, like just getting through each day was hard work for me. Like no matter how much I searched, I just couldn't identify where or who I was meant to be. And I came to heavily rely on using food as my therapy. When I ate, I felt a comfort, like it was the one thing that could never hurt me … or demean me … or make me feel like I was a worthless nobody.

  Through that period I fell into a comfort zone visiting a local café that sold a wide plethora of foods - nutritious and not so nutritious, but I naturally veered toward the latter. Friends were non-existent to me - in my universe I was a nobody who no-one else ever even noticed.

  But one day, walking into my favourite café, something changed. Sitting in there was someone who I noticed and who immediately captured my attention because they were also alone. They also were very overweight, and they looked like they were as miserable as I felt, day after day. Immediately my feelings didn't seem quite so important - but his did.

  Approaching him I didn't feel the usual nervousness or anxiety that I did when contemplating saying hello to someone new. This person had such a look of despair and unhappiness about him that it actually felt natural for me to approach him and ask if I could sit with him. When he looked up he had such a look of surprise, but stammered out a quiet 'okay'.

  After I sat down in front of him, I could see that he couldn't have been far away from my own age, but I had never seen him before. He looked at me with such intensity in his eyes, periodically removing his eyes from my gaze as if he were not only shy but also extremely uncomfortable talking to people.

  "Are you okay?" I asked him, without even introducing myself. "You look … unhappy."

  He looked utterly confused, like it was a completely new experience, having someone ask him anything. But he then seemed to find some core strength as I saw him take a deep breath, as if summoning a hidden inner confidence, and hold out his hand.

  "I'm Craig," his quiet voice said. There was a level of doubt in it that made me think that it was a natural thing for him to expect someone at this point to turn and walk away.

  I held my hand out and shook his briefly, suddenly feeling strange at this new thing happening - someone was shaking my hand? I couldn't remember when even either of my parents had touched me. In every way possible, including lack of touch, my parents had gone out of their way to make me feel like I was an insignificant member of the human race, and it was literally years since I'd touched anyone.

  "I'm Debbie," I replied, embracing this moment of physical connection with another human being, and not rushing to remove my hand.

  We looked at each other, not saying anything, perhaps both understanding in that moment that we were enough alike - enough able to understand exactly where each other was right in this moment in our thinking and our lives - that a friendship was about to be formed. Something we both were so unfamiliar with.

  * * * *

  We spent an increasing amount of time with each other over the next couple of months before we realised each other's potential to be musicians - Craig on keyboard and me as a vocalist. A few people laughed at us when we went to band auditions, because being as large as we both were we certainly did not present the expected first image that some bands were looking for. But those who gave us a chance seemed to be quickly impressed with our quality. At last Craig and I had found something to do good at, and feel good about.

  Over the next year or two we played a few charity gigs around town, and through that, money started coming our way. At the time it seemed like everything was great, and the increasingly regular income from the band meant that both Craig and I could move out of our pressure-zone homes and get a flat with a couple of others. Total Freedom was what we called it - and our first original song was born.

  But with that extra money came differences in lifestyle. Craig and I had both had eating problems before, caused I think by our inability to properly deal with emotions and the pressures from our families, and now we could buy even more food. We ate, drank, and when we got bored we got into mild dope. At the time it all seemed just so amazing - get home from school, eat dinner, set the gear up at the gig, go to the pub for a quick drink, perform and then go home and have a really good joint. At the time we really did both believe that life couldn't have been any better.

  I could see Craig growing larger every day and I became ashamed to look in the mirror - but when I sang to the crowd I felt confident because they listened, not looked. Over time no-one else really mattered - all that did start to matter was that we got our joint at the end of the night.

  In my mind, life seemed perfect. Craig was my greatest friend - he'd pull me out of depression when it hit and I would do the same in return. Despite our lifestyle, we both were getting good enough grades at school, and more and more people were wanting to know us. That had been my biggest dream for the longest time - to have lots of friends.

  But then one day it was over. I woke up one Thursday morning and I knew deep inside of me that I just couldn't do it anymore. My weight and size had gotten way too far out of hand. My hair and skin were drab and always felt unclean to me, no matter how much I washed. And I realised that my associates gained through singing weren't really my frien
ds because they had let me become what I had, just as I wasn't a good friend to Craig because I hadn't told him to get a grip on his attitude towards life and himself.

  By lunchtime I was out of that flat and out of that town. I left Craig a note:

  Dear Craig,

  I have to be on my own for a while - pull myself together. Don't worry; I'll be okay.

  I love you!

  Debbie

  Inside I knew he would be hurt when he found that note but it would be the best thing, for both me and for Craig. Besides, he'd get over it - that was what I wanted to believe in my mind, even though inside there was also worry about how hurt he would be, and what the result of that hurt might be.

  * * * *

  My new life consisted of a one-bedroom flat and a casual waitressing job at night. In addition, I took on temporary office work during the day when I was needed - something my good grades at school did well for me. I indulged in no alcohol and no drugs. I slowly but surely rid my life of it all and the mirror became my best friend as I learnt all about self confidence and experimented on a new, clean image. I also learned to love going to the gym where there were aerobics classes that provided good music and a lot of fun. Although it was a slow process, I could visually see my body changing, and I felt like I was starting to truly wake up, after a long period of drifting without motivation in a sea of lethargy.

  As time wore on I wrote to Craig a few times but never received any reply to any of the letters I had written him in previous months. I found myself praying every day that he hadn't taken an easy way out of a state of mind that wasn't pleasant or simple to correct.

  After two years of following a very strict regime, which eventually included professional voice training, I decided it was time to find my roots again.

  Chapter 2

  Dunedin didn't seem quite so small when I returned those two years later. The air seemed clearer, the grass greener, and the people friendlier. I could view it through new eyes and with new found appreciation.

  As I walked through what seemed like upgraded shops and streets, I ran into a couple of girls who had stuck with the band wherever we had played. At first they seemed confused in whether they knew me or not. It was as if I looked familiar to them but they just couldn't place me - and that made me feel absolutely fantastic. When they explained that they were in search of a flatmate I eagerly accepted. The timing could not have been any better. There was no mention of Craig or the rest of the band members - just praise for the quality of the band when we were together.

  The next few weeks presented me with the opportunity to become a regular part time typist. The job provided me with just enough money to live on but the hours were excellent. It meant that I could earn money while slowly finding my ground again. I so much wanted to ask someone, anyone, about Craig, but the fear of what I might hear was too great. All I could imagine in my head were two possible extremes. Either he had become so confident and happy that he was now settled down with someone who loved him and he had forgotten about me completely, or he had done something extreme to no longer feel pain or depression. Any ground between these two extremes did not register in my mind at all.

  Sally and Tina, my new flatmates, had huge social confidence, which was really good for me. They introduced and reintroduced me to lots of people, many of whom I recognised their faces but hadn't actually known. On the sixth weekend of my return to Dunedin they decided to have a 'little' party. It seemed a good idea - right now I was ready to live life as it should have been lived from the beginning. The 'little' party actually, as they always do, turned into a very full house of people. I found myself approached by a few guys, which was something I wasn't used to. The level to which my parents had driven into me how useless and ugly I was, resulted in my confusion at the contradiction of the sudden compliments and interest. Between dances I sat on the sofa and started enjoying a conversation with Sally's cousin, Steven. Thinking he was attractive to look at and great to talk to, I couldn't understand why he seemed to be unconfident about himself. Then I found out.

  "How about a dance, Steven?" I asked casually, trying to hide the nervousness I suddenly felt inside.

  He 'umm'ed and 'uh'd but was finally straight up and bold enough to tell me he was actually in a wheelchair and couldn't walk. I looked at him, trying to see something that would tell me this was true, and as if reading my thoughts exactly, he pointed to his wheelchair, which was folded next to the sofa we were sitting on. He seemed uncomfortable about me not realising, but to me it didn't make him any less easy to like. Before I could say anything I was pulled away to dance with someone else - Dave, I think his name was, but all the faces were starting to merge into one. Until I was standing directly in front of a face that looked so familiar and yet stood out from the rest. For a moment I couldn't quite work out who it was. And then a stark realisation hit me - I was standing right in front of Craig.

  "Hello Deb," said the voice that I had always loved to hear when I needed some sort of security.

  We stared at each other, transfixed by each other's bodies, and the changes that not only I had forced myself to bring about. All at once I could feel a huge wave of emotion bring tears into my eyes. Suddenly the crowd stopped talking and the song that had been playing, now faded to a halt. As if a cord pulled us, Craig and I just fell into each other's arms - just like you see on a television show or a movie I suppose.

  "You look amazing," Craig said as we released our hold and looked into one another's eyes. I could feel people watching us and I didn't care. He guided me to one side of the room and we began to talk, just as we had done so many times in the past, before I had left.

  "Why didn't you reply to my letters, Craig?" It was a question that I needed an answer to, even though I could tell he was unsure of how to provide one. "For two whole years I have prayed that you're okay, so why no reply?"

  He started to look worried and then I realised that the crowd had started talking again. I felt more at ease but still hadn't received an explanation.

  "I wanted to write to you Deb, honestly I did. I wanted to write and tell you I was pulling myself together, but the fear of failing to be able to do it, and then if you'd thought I was changing and I wasn't..."

  Suddenly I knew exactly what he was talking about. The thought of failure now was okay but not over those two years - during that time, success was too important.

  "It's okay. I understand. But you should have at least let me know you were alright."

  I could see that he knew I was right, but before he could answer, a girl came up and took his arm, leading him out for a dance. I was relieved, but knew I shouldn't have been. Craig was my best friend and I should have had the time to talk to him. But looking at him right in this moment, it was like he was an entirely different person from when I had left, as I guessed I must have seemed to him in return.

  I returned to my seat next to Steven and watched Craig as we made small talk. Steven did seem to be a nice guy, and besides what did it matter if someone couldn't walk? We made our way out on to the verandah where the air was fresh and warm, closing the sliding door behind us so we could enjoy the quieter feel of outside.

  "Do you think that you and Craig will get the band back together?" Steven asked, breaking me out of my thoughts, which had drifted back to that exact subject. Just as I was going to try and answer, it struck me that Steven obviously knew a little about me already, and that thought did make me feel happy.

  "Have you heard of us?" I asked and he nodded.

  "Who hasn't around here? You guys kicked up a real storm when you were playing."

  We were both quiet for a moment as we looked at each other. I was waiting for him to continue the conversation and then realised that he was waiting for me to do the same. After contemplating saying something, I decided against it and turned away to lean over the balcony. For some reason unknown to me, seeing Craig again had just made me feel so confused, and maybe even a little bit angry. It was like emotions that I hadn
't let myself feel over the previous year or two, were now trying to resurface.

  As if I had sent those thoughts to him, Craig appeared through the door and before I had time to say no, he had his arms around me and turned me to face him. I looked up into his eyes and saw that he too was feeling a little bit confused.

  "Can we go somewhere and talk, Debs? I really need to," Craig said, seeming to ignore the fact that Steven was right beside us.

  Before I could say anything Steven had removed himself and gone back inside, leaving me feeling guilty inside. I reached up with my hands to put a little distance between me and Craig.

  "What do you want to talk about, Craig?"

  I knew I was sounding like I no longer cared for him, but I couldn't help it. My emotions were all on such an overload that they were resulting in me feeling confused and flustered, unable to identify how I was feeling or even how I should be feeling.

  Craig looked hurt, like he was trying to figure out where his Debbie had gone - before she would never have sounded like this.

  "I guess I just felt like we have a lot to talk about. If you'd rather not, we can do it some other time."

  He looked like he was close to tears and I also couldn't hold back from crying either. Reaching up a hand to his face, I tried to smile as the tears started to run.

  "I'm sorry, Craig. I really am so happy to be near you again. I thought for so long that I'd never see you again. And when I didn't hear from you, I was starting to think that the worst may have happened. I just need a little time to let my thoughts and emotions settle."

  He took my hand and kissed it before drawing me into his arms again and this time I didn't push him away. This time it felt right, just like it had many times before, a long time ago.

  We stayed holding each other long enough for the house to empty, after someone's suggestion to head out to a local nightclub to party more. When we returned inside almost everyone had left. Only three people were sitting and looking at the mess left behind - Sally, Tina and Steven. When I saw him I felt a twinge of guilt over the fact that Craig was holding my hand, which of course made so sense whatsoever since I didn't even know Steven.