Broken Memories

Chapter 1. Lauren

Chapter 1. Lauren

A shell. With what seems like a dead soul. Walking. Breathing. Sleeping. Repeating. That's as far as I go. Like a crab concealing within itself. Resigning to the fact that I'll have no one to talk to but myself for the rest of my life. Not that I don't have any friends. Well, I did, maybe a while ago. I think they've given up on me. I just can't bring myself to answer their texts and calls. They stopped coming over with gifts, flowers and smiles on faces I could barely recognise a month ago. Maybe it was because I never answered the door.

Since the accident, I've stayed with my dad's parents, but they couldn't handle my silence, so off to my other grandparents I went.

Now, seven weeks after the beginning, I'm sitting in my room. At the local orphanage. I stare at my reflection from the opposite side of the tiny room. The compressed size makes it far too easy to see my black, saggy under eyes, my pale, lifeless face, bloodshot hazel eyes, cracked lips, and my baggy and boring clothing. A far cry from anyone I used to be. But, yep. That's me. Living life to the max.

With a sigh, I flop back down on the small white mattress with old but comfortable blue sheets and pull out my phone. My grandparents got me a new one as my old one was smashed in the accident. They added all my contacts back on but I don't know who half of them are. I have searched and searched my mind but all I walk into is white walls and dead ends. With a sigh, I flick my phone on again, just to pass the time.

Two messages flash *new* on the white screen.

Grandma: How are you? Can we come visit? Love, Granny and Grandpa xx

Pops: Hello Lauren, are you feeling better? Nana and I would love to come and see you. Xox

Sweet of them, but I really doubt anyone wants to see me right now. Even the employees at the orphanage don't talk to me. And the other kids here stare at me like I'm some rare kind of disease. Oh well, I suppose I don't give them much of a chance to know the real me, pretending to be asleep or plugging my headphones in a second before they enter my room or pass me in the hallways.

Some try to make excuses for me.

"Oh, it's just a teenage shock stage she's going through. She'll be fine in a week or two."

Hmmm... how about never?

I hear them outside my door.

"...lost her parents and little brother in a car crash. And her older sister went missing the same night. Hasn't talked much since. Actually, not at all. How will we get her a home?" Their voices trail off to a hushed whisper when they walk to the next room.

'Lauren?'

Urgh. They're back.

'Lauren? Time for dinner.'

She doesn't wait for a response and I don't give one. With a groan and a roll of my eyes, I trudge to the door and head to the mess hall.

At a table by myself, with a plate of sloppy potatoes and sausages, I stare blankly at the wall. Poking the food until I find it within myself to eat.

How did I become so hopeless? Before the Dark Night - what I call the accident, because I can't remember anything - I was a reasonably popular teen. Many people knew my name, would smile and wave at me around my old school in Wellington. But since both sets of my Grandparents live in Palmerston North, I'm here now. I was achieving well academically and was still one of the most popular girls in school. Though I did not, under any circumstances, associate myself with anything like the "cool" kids that thought it was "cool" to bully others. I was very stubborn and believed in my views of positivity and kindness. And in my opinion, that's a pretty good thing to be stubborn about.

I remember I was always being asked to say speeches for my old primary schools and in high school assemblies. I had a way with connecting to young people in a relatable and friendly way.

I had that. Not so much any more.

I feel the slight upward tilt of my lips go back down to its usual line and the tension return to my shoulders. It settles in, letting me know it'll be there for a while. When I look around me, I see most people have already cleared out for Friday night's movie. But I have no desire to go with them and instead, head back to my room.

*

'Lauren!' Sharp staccato footsteps echo behind me and with a painful squeeze of my eyes, I turn to see the owner of the orphanage.

'Lauren! How lovely to see you!' Mrs Stone smiles kindly. A genuine smile people so rarely give me. I gently turn my cracked lips up in a half smile. It's like trying to bend titanium. I know it's not much, and my dry, lined lips start pulsing pain and I suddenly drop the attempt. But it's enough for Mrs Stone.

'Would you like to come with me, Lauren?'

I nod, I've got nothing better to do.

Mrs Stone knows I probably won't talk, but of course she talks anyway. She's never given up on me... yet.

'Lauren! Your teachers here are telling me you're doing very well! Top of every class! Very, very good...' I glow on the inside as Mrs Stone continues. 'We're lucky to have such a fine young woman here! Now, I have very exciting news for you!'

Ideas about what this could mean fill my crowded head as she holds open the door to her office. The office that never fails to cheer me up. Inspiring quotes hang delicately in frames on every part of the wall. Her soft strawberry scent swirls around the cosy room and fills my heart with a gentle, easing courage.

My eyes once again settle on a small square frame. The soft white string that holds it is almost bald in some places, but it always remains constant and never falters. Perhaps the quote it supports, "When it rains, look for rainbows. When it's dark, look for stars", gives the string motivation to hold on for yet another day. The quote has always been one of those regular trains of thought that swirl in an endless loop like a toy train on the same track.

But, as always, my heart twists painfully when I see the pictures on her desk of her and her beautiful family, making me long for the life I used to have. The life before my parents, Cameron and Gail, and little brother, Benji, died. Oh, and did I mention my older sister, Rose, went missing the same night?

'Ah! The exciting news!' Mrs Stone claps delightedly, gesturing for me to sit down.

I wait, butterflies churning in an awful suspense. It's a strange sensation and one I haven't felt in a long time.

'We've been talking to a family who is interested in taking you in as their foster child. They've pretty much confirmed, but they said only if you were happy with them, would they adopt you.'

Mrs Stone, with a friendly twinkle in her eyes asks, 'How do you feel about that?'

I open my mouth, then snap it shut again.

'Of course, it will be such a great pity to see such an amazing girl leave us. You're a great role model... Anyway,' she sighs wistfully. 'They would like to meet you tomorrow for lunch. Is that okay?'

A nod from me.

'Would you like me to come?'

A much more confident nod moves my head. Mrs Stone is the only person I feel comfortable around. And I think the only one I've properly talked to, though that was extremely rare.

'Please,' I whisper.

Suddenly, her face lights up and she suddenly looks 10 years younger. Her soft brown eyes radiating happiness on her gently rounded face and curls of chocolate hair seem to dance on her shoulders.

'That's excellent. Well, let's say we'll meet here at 12pm and then head to the small cafe on the corner together. How's that?'

'Good,' I nod again with a very small smile, again furthering Mrs Stone's youth by another five years.

'Okay, well you better rest up for tomorrow, sweetie. It's going to be a big day.'

She stands up and pulls the door open for me.

'Thanks, Mrs Stone.'

And the last glimpse I catch of her, I see she looks like she could be my age.