Troublemaker

Chapter One

A great majority of the population had no problem moving on from their first love, but Sheena Delany found herself quite stuck. High school sweethearts promised one another the world and seldom followed through as the duo would often drift apart as they grew into themselves. However, planning her future with Martin Halder seemed to be her peek. Their separation pained her more that words could explain most days, most likely because she never truly got closure. How could she?

The man she had been planning a wedding with had taken his own life not long after graduation. When she anticipated her future it never involved a day without him, as the two had been friends since childhood. She could still remember how he had helped teach her how to ride a bike and she had taught him how to throw a baseball. Those warm summer days had grown into years and the two families had joked about their marriage before they had even become couple. Sheena felt as though she was having a midlife crisis before she turned twenty-five. Most days she could be found going through old pictures and home videos or staring off into space. Usually when she spaced out it was because she was caught up in memories, wondering where things had gone so wrong. Why had she not seen the signs? She should have been able to show him enough love that he hadn't felt the need to end his life. Her fixation had turned into nightmares that left her unable to sleep as she replayed that moment in her mind.

Her footsteps could hardly be heard for the sound of Marty's stereo that blared. Sheena rolled her eyes. It wasn't often that the boy listened to his music as loud as possible, but his parents were still at work which left him with a little too much freedom. "Why didn't you tell me you were throwing a rager? I would have taken a bottle of vodka from the cabinet at home," she called out in a teasing manner. She was quite looking forward to crawling into bed, where he was most likely lying with a book in his lap, and falling asleep as he read to her in his all too comforting voice.

Sheena wasn't prepared to see his desk chair knocked to the floor with crumpled paper laying around like a graveyard of final thoughts. Nor was she ready to see him hanging like a rag doll from the ceiling. If it weren't for the fact that neither Martin nor any of their friends were good at art Sheena may have thought the scene a poor attempt at a practical joke. The air stuck in her lungs, as if someone had wrapped their hands around her throat. Her only thought was that she had to get him down. She lunged for his desk, searching for anything sharp enough to cut him down.

As an eagle scout Martin was notorious for using complicated knots anytime he has the chance. It was a source of pride, but in this moment Sheena cursed him. It didn't matter that he was gone before she had even set foot in the house. She had to hold on to the hope he was still grasping at life. With one hand she began to saw at the thick rope and with the other she clawed at her phone. It was a desperate attempt at calling 9-1-1.

An icy sweat had broken out across Sheena's forehead as she jolted awake and nearly jumped out of bed in her panicked state. The cold floor reminded the young woman that her mother always tried to force her into socks for bed, but being as stubborn as Sheena was she was never going to do it. The woman had a solid principle: wearing socks to sleep in was wrong. It didn't matter how cold it was or where she was. However, trudging around half asleep and barefoot proved to be a nasty mistake. The unmistakable sensation of broken glass piercing her foot caused her to cry out in pain and begin cursing the name of her cat as she hobbled to the light switch praying her other foot wouldn't find another wild shard. "Why do you have to be such an arse, Cooper," she hissed at the ginger cat who peered lazily up at her from the sofa he had claimed as his bed.

Cooper replied with a long, low meow as though scolding her for leaving her cereal bowl on the bartop in the first place. With a heavy sigh she began the tedious chore of trying to remove the debris from her foot. A feat easier said than done due to the fact that her anxiety kept her nails from growing much at all. By the time she finished the task she knew she would be awake for the day.