Pieces of My Heart

Chapter 1

Most of the time, I prefer to be alone, but every now and then I long to be with someone who truly cares about me.

Obviously Dad and Margie, my stepmother, must care somewhat, at least in a Florinda is still alive, right? Because I'm pretty sure accidentally killing her would look really bad way.

A sigh escapes as the shower beats down on my back, relaxing my muscles. Taking a deep breath of the steamy air, I turn around and turn off the water. For a moment, I rest my forehead on the shower wall... just breathing. There is only ten minutes left for me to eat breakfast and get ready for school, but sometimes being in a rush is somehow reassuring, like it tells me, "You have some place to be. You're here for a reason."

The extra mile I jogged took more time than I thought it would. Training for a Suicide awareness marathon takes work- there is no way I'd be able to do that if I didn't push myself. I dry off quickly and pull my hair back in a messy ponytail.

When I get to the kitchen, Margie's pouring herself a glass of orange juice and Bobby is in his highchair babbling something as he bangs his fists on his tray in front of him. My fingers run through his soft brown-red hair as I pass him on my way to the cabinet.

"Remember to look people in the eye." Margie goes the fridge. She gets the milk and hands it to me. I nod and get a bowl out of the cabinet. She chews her lip for a moment, going over the same words she said to me every morning this week before school.

Here it goes. The speech she thinks is helpful. The speech I'll smile and nod too and then completely disregard as soon as I get to school. At school I'll have one goal—be invisible.

"Smile, and walk confidently."

My head bobs up and down as I pour my cereal and milk, and get a spoon from the drawer. I continue my nodding, even though now that I'm crunching on my cereal I can't understand a word she says.

Margie always nags me about going too fast, running too fast or eating too fast, and as I look down at the empty bowl I know—this time at least—she's right. With nothing to give me an excuse not to listen I hear her rattle off her last few tips.

"Work hard, but try to make friends." Her eyes plead with me. Plead that I'd give this place a chance, try to be happy. Sure I can try to be happy-- I can even pretend, but I doubt I'd ever actually make it to being happy. With her in place of my mom? Yeah, I doubt it.

She smiles and reaches up to brush some of my corn-silk blonde hair behind my ear, but stops and pulls her hand back. "How has your first week at school been going?"

"Fine." Surrounded by strangers and getting lost at least once a day. But how did she think I'd respond?

She nods. "Good."

I shift from one foot to the other. I should probably tell her something. Thank you, maybe? Instead, I put the empty bowl into the sink and say, "I've got to go, or I'm going to miss my bus."

Margie follows me to the back door and gives me a hug before I can prepare-- before I can move away. "Bye, have a good day."

"Thanks, I'll see you later." I wave to Bobby in his highchair. "Bye, Bobby." Grabbing my backpack I force a smile at them both. I go out the back door, but walk to the front porch to wait for the school bus.

A few minutes later the bus stops in front of the house. I pick up my backpack and start walking towards the bus. After slinking near the back of the bus, I slide into a window seat. I put my backpack on the seat next to me in hopes that no one will ask to sit there.