Shattered Hearts

part 1

   Driving down the winding, twisting country roads, Lizzie sang along to the soft music playing from the radio of her black Honda Civic. Dodie Clark was playing in the background, her singing about a woman who she had fallen for, but who would never notice her. 'Sounds a lot like my life.' Lizzie thought, somewhat bitterly. She didn't even want to think about it. Lizzie continued on her way, trees casting shadows from the small slivers of light peeking through its leaves, and lightly bounced off the windows of her car. Eventually, Lizzie reached a more open area, where a long, gravel driveway sat. She turned, heading down the driveway, Gravel crunched under the tires as she went, passing groves of apple trees, bare of any of those round, red fruits.

Lizzie approached a house, hidden from the main road by rolling hills of tall grass. It was fairly large, three stories high with brick and wood covering the exterior. Moss and vines covered the sides, making it look like someplace from a fairy tale. Lizzie stopped, parking her car right near a stone path leading to the front door, made of dark brown wood. Stepping out, Lizzie walked across the stone path, walking up the small steps to the porch. Before she could reach the door, however, her mother burst through, clad in a sweater and a pair of leggings. Despite it being spring, she still wore sweaters every single day. Amy threw her arms around her daughter, tightly hugging her. "Lizzie! Oh, I am so glad you came to visit!" Lizzie's mother was a very interesting woman, to say the least. She always wore some kind of sweater, and she always had her dark brown hair in this curly, poofy hairstyle. She had warm, brown eyes, in comparison to Lizzie's leaf green. 

Lizzie smiled at her mother, "I told you I was coming." Though she should have known by now that either way, Amy was going to be ecstatic about her visit.

"Oh I know dearie!" She responded with a smile, pulling away and grabbing her daughter's hands. "Now come along, you must be starving. I made cookies!" Before Lizzie could say a thing, she was pulled inside the house and toward the kitchen.

Her mother's house, now fairly quiet due to the recent passing of Lizzie's father, was just as interesting as Amy. Inside it was filled with little treasures, old, broken clocks, snow globes on the shelves, or little knick-knacks scattered around here and there. It was cluttered but strangely clean. It always smelled of cookies and other baked goods, all her mother had time to do now was to bake. "I was going to make apple pie, but the apple trees had no apples." Amy sounded almost disappointed, taking into her large and just as cluttered kitchen. On the table sat a plate full of cookies, many different types. Oatmeal raisin, chocolate chip, chocolate chunk, and a number of items lay in a nice pile, ready to be eaten. The plate itself was colorfully decorated with a photo of a rooster, though it was covered by the sweet treats. Steam rose from them, meaning they were still warm.

Lizzie had always loved her mother's cooking, and would never pass the chance to get some of her baked goods. Taking a cookie from the plate, Lizzie took a bite, letting out a small moan at the sweet taste and how it melted in her mouth. "These are amazing, as always."

Amy beamed, "I made extra so you could take them home! I know how much you love my cooking."

Lizzie laughed, "I love everything you bake."

"But the cookies have always been your favorite."

Now that was the truth. Lizzie had always loved the cookies the most, and would always be the first to come for them whenever her mother made them. "You do have a point." Lizzie admitted, brushing a golden curl out of her face as she ate the rest of her treat.

Amy smiled even wider in response if that were possible. "Speaking of which, I found a bunch of your old stuff in the attic. I don't think I could ever carry all that down the stairs, maybe you'd like to take a look?"

This sparked Lizzie's interest, "Really? Yeah, I'll go take a look!" She turned, heading down the hall and up a flight of hardwood steps, pictures lining the walls on each side. Lizzie stopped to take a look at a few, one particularly being an old photo of Lizzie and her parents at a picnic. The photo was well preserved, but the picture was slightly cloudy due to the old camera being used on it. They were all sitting on a blanket, Lizzie, her mother, and her father. She missed him dearly. He had always been a family man, and was madly in love with Amy. Even when they were old and Lizzie was getting ready for college, they would still dance outside on the porch, their only light being the lights they strung up there years ago, swinging along to a song only they seemed to hear.

Then he got sick, and passed away in his sleep. With a sigh, Lizzie tore her gaze away from the old photo and continued her march up the stairs, each step she took causing them to creak slightly. Though Lizzie knew it would not collapse, or else she would have retreated. Reaching the upstairs, Lizzie was met with a pale blue hall. Much like the staircase walls, it had pictures everywhere and a grandfather clock resting on top of the long carpet. Lizzie passed the first door, her old room. The walls were painted a pale baby pink. On the wall closest to the door, right by a window, sat Lizzie's old bed. The covers were neatly set on top, various pillows covering a majority of the bed. An old stuffed animal sat there, resting its back against the pillow. As if waiting for its owner to return.

Stepping past, Lizzie continued her trek to the attic door. Eventually, she reached it, pulling down the cord that allowed the latter to flip down. Lizzie grabbed it and pulled it down towards her. As soon as the latter touched the old, faded and worn rug, Lizzie climbed up and into the musky old attic. The room was lit by a single window at the front, overlooking the yard. Slivers of light peeked through and stretched across the old and dusty floors. Lizzie reached around in the air until her hand hit a string and she pulled it. Instantly, the lightbulb sprung to life, allowing her to see better. Lizzie searched through the collection of boxes in the attic, till she found one with her name on it and pulled it out.

Inside lay photo albums, stuffed animals, and some old toys she quickly grew out of. Dust coated each surface, from years of lack of use. Sitting down on her knees, Lizzie picked up a photo album, blowing the dust off it and opening it up. She smiled to herself upon seeing what lay inside, remembering each fondly. She closed it, setting the book down, and began rifling through the box's contents again. Tipping it, Lizzie noticed something roll out and turned, seeing a little bouncy ball she once played with as a kid roll across the floor, bumping into a tall item covered in a thick sheet.

Lizzie let go of the box, getting up and walking over to the ball. The toy became long forgotten however when her gaze landed on the sheeted item standing before her. Curiosity took over, and Lizzie pulled the sheet off, to reveal a tall, round mirror. Dust coated it, but from what Lizzie could see, it was quite beautiful. There was something about it that seemed very- otherworldly. Like something from a Disney movie. It was round, and on the sides was this golden pattern rimming it, intricate roses carved into its surface.

Taking her sleeve, Lizzie wiped the dust off of its glass, revealing herself. Lizzie was a fairly tall girl, with golden ringlets for hair and leaf green eyes. She had fair skin, and freckles covered her face. They were messily placed, like a child randomly placing dots of paint or paint splattered onto a canvas. Her father had golden blonde hair as well, but the curls were all from her mother.

Something drew Lizzie to this mirror, she had never seen it before though. It's possibly from curiosity, but she couldn't help but feel as if there was more to it than it seemed. Placing her hand onto the cold surface of its glass, Lizzie was surprised to find it felt almost like a liquid, parting from itself to shape around her hand. Lizzie jumped back in surprise, "This doesn't make sense." She shook her head, stepping back. Lizzie was about to leave when she heard a noise behind her. The voice of a young girl. Furrowing her eyebrows, Lizzie stepped back toward the mirror, pressing into it. Only to shriek in surprise when it started to pull her in, molding around her as water would to a sinking body. Lizzie tried to scream, but her mouth was covered by the strange surface of the mirror. Before she knew it, Lizzie was sucked through the mirror, leaving no sign she was even in the attic.