Shards

Chapter 1

tw: su1c1de, car accidents, bl00d, depression, swearing (pretty common) hospitals, drugs and vaping, alcohol and alcoholic abuse

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I'm not really sure what happened, but I know it was bad. 

I remember select parts: racing across the bridge, cold autumn wind harshly caressing the skin around my eyes, the thrill of speed vibrating my bones. The other car, driving the wrong way on the freeway, that I didn't notice until it was much too late. 

Pain, hitting me with the force of a thousand mallets. My vision becoming blurry, the world flipping upside down. Shards of glass digging into my skin; blood, salty on my tongue. 

A sudden change in pressure, and then the shock of cold water, spilling across my body, wetting my clothes and hair. Hands, finding my shoulders and hauling me away from death. 

Then, darkness. 

And darkness it has been for quite a while now. Or, really, that's just what it feels like. It's possible I could open my eyes right now and wake up on the riverbank, an ambulance blaring its horn as it rounds the corner. 

This darkness hasn't been ideal, but truly, I don't mind it. It means that I cannot feel the pain I know is racking my body right now, and that I have time to think. I've always liked my alone time. 

There are voices, too, and noises. They permeate my silence like the unwelcome honk of a car's horn on a quiet, peaceful summer's day. People are talking, in both hushed and shouting tones, neither of them clearer than the other. There is a consistent noise right behind my quiet thoughts, and I wonder if it is my heartbeat. 

During this time, I wonder a lot. I think of my life, my family, my friends, the boys and girls I have loved. They are all a part of me, contributing their fair share to my personality. Some are long gone from my life, but there are others I make a point to ignore in the school hallways, passing each other as if we've never spoken. 

I can't hear her, or maybe I'm just not listening, but I know what my mom would be saying right now. She's lecturing my sleeping body through her tears, saying, you could have died, Sadie! Do you understand that? She'll promise to take away my license, but then never will.

However much she hates to admit it, I remind her of my father. 

His story isn't a happy one. He was twenty when he married my mother, the blonde, Christian sorority girl who believed all she wanted in life was to raise a family. I was born less than a year later. My mother didn't finish college, and my father, unable to handle the pressure, dropped out, too. They had no way to support their young daughter, and the stress of it all settled an unshakable weight of depression on my father's shoulders. 

Seven years ago, in 2016, my father killed himself. My mother hasn't been the same since, and I don't blame her. I was eleven at the time, and his death really quieted me. The start of middle school was not a happy time for me. Suddenly, I was around all of these older kids, eighth graders who vaped and drank and skateboarded, who hung out with their counterparts in the high school. I was taken on by them, and my life spiraled. 

I grew fast, catching on to the trends in speech and fashion. We hung out almost every day after school, wandering the town, learning to skate down at the park. My mom tried to help me, but there was only so much she could do. 

It wasn't her fault though, it was my own. I didn't feel as if I fit in with the kids my age, so I didn't try to. I was alone in my classes, but outside, my social life thrived. 

At the time I was happy, but it wasn't the healthy sort of happiness. It was like an addictive drug, worming its way into my brain until I was so hooked on that serotonin rush I'd get when an older friend looked at me the right way that just I couldn't let go of it. 

A tinny voice interrupts my thoughts, bouncing around my headspace, repeating again and again. All it does is give me a headache. 

"Sadie," it says. "Sadie, Sadie, Sadie. Wake up, Sadie, wake up."

I don't want to, not really, but I can feel the fog clearing from behind my eyes, can see my black surroundings fading slowly to grey. 

I blink, once, then close my eyes, groaning. The bright white lights of what I assume is the hospital are tearing into my retinas, threatening the brain behind it. 

A happy sound, half choke and half gasp, and someone grabs my hand, gripping it tight. I grunt. "Mom?"

"Oh, Sadie," she says, and yes, it is her. I turn my head, finding that with this angle, the lights are not quite as blinding and I can force my eyes open, just a little bit. 

There is my mother, in all her glory. Her hair is pulled into a loose bun, small strands of gray loose from the rest, falling down against her shoulders. Her eyes are red and she has slight mascara stains on her waterline. I smile. 

"Mom," I say, a confirmation, and she bites the inside of her cheek, blinking back tears. "What happened?"

She hesitates, just for a moment. "You were in a car crash, honey, but you're okay, I promise. Everything is going to be okay."

My mind is still dreary with sleep, and I haven't yet made the connection between hospitals and unfixable injuries. Her words deepen my worry, make me realize that there was and still could be a possibility that I am not, as she says, okay. 

Commotion in the hallway and a nurse sweeps in, blonde hair taut in her ponytail, pale blue scrubs tight around her waist. She stills at the sight of me, smiling in a way that could only be described as fake. 

"Sadie, you're awake! Welcome to Beacon Medical Center, we're glad to have you," she says, smile unfaltering, teeth bright white. I wonder what her life looks like, outside of work. I wonder if she cries, too, if she whitens those pearly teeth in an attempt to seem normal. 

I'll never know, because I don't want to ask. The nurse, who introduces herself as Abby, whisks around the room, writing on a whiteboard and then a clipboard, spewing out medical information, eyes on me though my mom's the only one who's listening. 

My mind is blurry again, sight focusing in and out, time skipping like a record player. I close my eyes, and the darkness returns, but for a few seconds, the voices stay. 

"She's out again," says the nurse, Abby. "Hold on, I'll just go grab her doctor, run some vitals just in case."

"Thank you so much for all you've done," replies my mom, and then, once again, I retreat into the depths of my mind. 

hope you enjoyed the first chapter! I definitely enjoyed writing it :)

I'm trying something risky here and publishing this (+ the next chapter) before the rest. they'll consistently publish each week, so if you want to get notifications when they release, add this book to your reading list!

(it's risky because if you don't want to add it to your reading list you'll probably never see it again. I was gonna try and make it a bunch of chapters so you could just breeze through right now, but that plan's changed.)

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