Handfuls of Shattered Pieces Read online

  Handfuls of Shattered Pieces

  By Kerry Taylor

  CHAPTER 1

  Running. That’s the first thing I remember after escaping The Darkness. I don’t know how I escaped or what changed for it to even become possible. I don’t remember what happened to The Shadow, or how far I had come. All I can remember is the heart thumping, feet burning, running.

  I ran through deep woods for what felt like days until finally, my feet battered and bloodied and my entire body covered with cuts and scratches from the branches and brush, I came to a wide black road.

  I followed that road, exhausted and weak, but determined nothing would stop me. I couldn’t go back, I wouldn’t, so onwards I walked, stumbling over my own bare feet constantly, and jumping with terror everytime the wind would rise up and rattle the leaves on the trees around me.

  It had been so long since I had heard so much noise, so many sounds. A bird singing not far from me, had me stood still, transfixed for an unspeakable amount of time. I had forgotten how comforting and yet terrifying sounds could be.

  Further down the road, so very much further, and the sun was rising higher in the sky. The clouds cleared enough for the rays to shine down on me and I held out my arms, feeling the soothing warmth on my bare skin. I closed my eyes and remembered lazy afternoons on a purple checked blanket in a sea of bright green lawn, the sound of my mother’s laugh and the touch of her hand in my hair.

  I snapped my eyes open, shaking off the memory. I couldn‘t go there, couldn’t let myself remember. It used to help, used to make me think there was hope. Eventually I learnt that hope was for fools, and mempries were nothing more than another form of brutal torture.

  I looked to the road, to my bloodied bare feet upon it. That was real. That was my hope now. Keep walking, don’t stop.

  A noise louder than any I had heard so far came from behind me, a loud rumble, so deafening I had to cover my ears as I began to shake in fear of the unknown. Then it stopped and I slowly moved my hands down, only to be assaulted by two loud bangs. I leapt around, looking for the source, terrified, and found a car had stopped just a few feet behind me. Two men were standing at either side of it, looking at me warily. No, not men, Police, I realised. I remembered the uniform, and what it meant.

  They studied me, the same way I had once watched wild animals in the Lincoln Park Zoo as a child.

  “Ma’am?” The slightly shorter of the two men said, startling me. It had been so very long since I heard words, speech. It sounded too loud and I wanted to cover my ears again. “Ma’am it’s ok. We’re the police. We are here to help you.” He took a step toward me and I stood frozen, trying to take in what he had said. I knew the words, I knew what he had said, but it was still confusing to my brain to hear actual speech. “Can you tell us where you’ve come from or what happened to you?” He asked. His partner started to move in my direction, and I glanced over to him with caution.

  “Everything is ok. I’m officer Pope and this is my partner Officer Bradford. We are not going to hurt you.” They both held out their hands in a placating gesture, but just them being there, the first people I had seen, except for The Shadow, in 2928 days, it was too much, too much noise and movement and fear.

  I forced my feet to move. I had to keep moving, keep walking. I couldn’t go back. I wouldn’t. I took two steps backwards, then turned and set off running as fast as I possibly could, My feet burned with every raw slap against the asphalt and I was gasping for breath, my body thin and weak. Heavy boots pounded the ground right behind me and within seconds strong arms wrapped around me, holding me tight to a firm body.

  A deafening noise began, so loud I was sure it would burst my ear drums and leave me deaf. I fought for freedom against the arms, as the noise went on and on, but there was no release, no more freedom.

  The sound got louder as both men now fought to hold me tight between them. I fought and struggled while also trying to work out what the sound was, wanting to know what other danger awaited me.

  I fought until I literally ran out of power and my body began to shut down around me. My limbs became heavy and refused to move. My chest was heaving so hard I could not take in air and then the edges of my vision began to darken and I knew that the peace was coming. I knew the peace well. It was my friend, the one who carried me away when the pain became too much. Peace had almost completely carried me away when I realised the sound had stopped. The thought struck me then. That sound had been me. Screaming. It had been so long since I heard that sound, any sound made by me. My last thought before I grabbed my friend, peace’s hand and let it carry me off, was the simple wonder that somewhere within me, my voice still existed.

  CHAPTER 2

  I awoke to silence. Keeping my eyes closed, I took a moment to listen to my surroundings. It was a habit I had learned early on in The Darkness, a way to make myself somewhat aware and prepared for what would be lurking in wait when I opened my eyes.

  This time there was no quiet breathing across the room as The Shadow waited, or scuffling of critters on the ground around me. There was just total and utter silence.

  A breath in and I wondered at the smell. I expected to be surrounded by the scent of moulding stone, damp, my own waste and the heavy iron of blood, my blood. Instead it smelled clean and fresh. I could smell the disinfectant my mom would use to scrub the kitchen floors of our pretty little cottage, and a pine smell too, but not real pine, not like in the forest. It was an artificial scent, made up of chemicals.

  I opened my eyes slowly, needing to know where I was. The bright white ceiling looking back at me was a startling reminder of what happened, of my running and of the Police officers holding me as I fought. I looked around hurriedly, scared they would be there watching me, but no one was watching me. I was alone, laid in a bed, covered in crisp white sheets, in a sparkling white room. A needle had been put in my right arm and it ran up to a bag of clear liquid.

  I lifted the sheet, checking I was clothed and found I had on a white and blue patterned gown. It was longer than the t-shirt I had been wearing before and so very clean and soft. No blood had dried on it, making it all crusty and stiff. It was just bright and smooth.

  Footsteps approaching close to the door, opposite me, had me dropping the sheet back into place and watching warily for danger. The door opened gently and in walked a tall man in a long white coat and dress trousers, like my Daddy would wear to work each morning before I was taken.

  I looked to the stranger’s face and slowly took in his features, searching for the evil I now knew so well. Instead I found bright blue eyes, a square jaw, and dimples as he softly smiled at seeing me studying him. He looked pretty young, I thought. Older than I was, but younger than my Daddy and The Shadow. His dark blonde hair was cute and floppy, sat perfectly styled to the right side.

  “Hey there. I’m your doctor, Alexander King. You can just call me Xander though. How are you feeling?” He asked as he walked in and left the door slightly ajar behind him. He took a few steps in, but stopped near the foot of the bed I lay in. I just stared at him wide-eyed, focusing on the smoothness of his rich voice. It sounded wonderful, almost musical.

  “You were in rough shape when you came to us. We’ve cleaned up the numerous lacerations on your body and bandaged your feet. You’re on IV antibiotics and fluids, as you were severely dehydrated. We’ll be keeping you here for tonight at least.” He went on when I didn’t reply.

  He seemed kind, I concluded. I didn’t see any evil in him. It was always there in those filled with it, in the eyes. There was no hiding it. If you had seen it once, you would always see it again and I couldn’t find it in this doctor.

  I wondered if he knew who I was? I wanted
to know if he had told the police to call my Mom and Dad. It had been so long and I knew I had changed and they would have too, but I wanted them. I wanted them to hold me and kiss me like they used to. If they did that, then I could be me again, right? Everything could go back to how it was before, and be normal again, I was sure of it.

  “The police haven’t been able to find anything with your name. Could you tell me? Your name?” He asked even more gently. I looked to him and questioned hard if he actually wanted me to speak, to tell him. It had been so long. I was scared to say a word, not that I was sure I could anyway. Would my voice even come out if I told it to?

  More than anything I wanted my Mom and Dad though. I knew if I could just see them, everything could be alright. I could pretend The Darkness and The Shadow never existed and just be me again. My life could be good and happy, just like it used to be.

  I opened my mouth, ready to speak for the first time in years, but nothing came out but a rough weeze.

  “Hold on. Let me get you some water.” Xander said as he dropped the file in his hand to the table in the corner and moved slowly closer to me.

  I jumped away from him and pushed myself up to sitting, ready to run if necessary, as he came to a stop at the top of the bed and studied me. He noticed my panic, and slowed his movement even more. Very slowly he reached out to the cabinet beside me and poured water from a plastic jug, into a small blue glass.

  “Here.” He held the glass out toward me and nodded when I met his face. “Just start with small sips, ok?”

  My hand trembled wildly as I reached toward him for the glass. As soon as I had it, he pulled away his hand and stepped back to where he had been before, at a safer distance for me.

  The glass shook so badly in my hand, a little spilled over and I hurried to hold it in both hands to stop me from losing more. I was mad at myself for spilling some. I had to covet every drop of water, I knew that. I couldn’t afford to waste any because I never knew when more would come.

  I raised the glass to my lips and took a sip. I moaned a little at the luxury of not only clean drinking water, but it was also cold, really cold, with ice. It was so good. I drank the entire cup on the next drink and wished I could have more.

  “Better?” Xander asked, startling me again. I looked up to him guiltily, scared there would be repercussions for ignoring his instructions to sip it slowly, but he was just smiling again.

  “Good.” The word felt like a test, to see if my voice would come out this time, and it did. It had been a very rough whisper, rather than my voice, but it was enough to set my heart pounding. It was the first word I had spoken since the beating I had received the first day for talking. Not one word of sound had left my lips since that day, until that point.

  “That’s good. Do you think you can give me your name now? I’d like to try and find some family who could be here with you?”

  “O-Olivia.” I really had to push the sound out, but it was so hard and the word, as it came out, sounded so foreign to me. For so long I had been no one, had no name. I had only been what he allowed me to be, and that was not anything I ever wanted to be again. “Olivia Byrd. I….” I stopped myself from telling him what I had begun to. Last time I said the words it had been the beginning of the end of me.

  “It’s ok Olivia, tell me.” He urged as he listened intently.

  “I…...I just want m-my Mom and D-Dad.” Tears escaped and ran down my cheeks as I said their names out loud, for the first time in so long. It had been years since I even let myself think about them. It hurt too much, but laid there, free of The Darkness and him, maybe I could have them both, and my life, back again.

  “It’s going to be ok. We’re going to track them down and get them here for you, ok?” I nodded as I fought to wipe away the rapidly flowing tears. Tears were bad, a sign of how weak I was.Tears always meant more pain because they just seemed to get him more excited. It had been a long time since I let him see me shed a tear and the fear of letting them out, even without the monster there, was great.

  “I need to speak to the police so they can find your family. I’ll be back soon though, ok? Just try and rest for a while. You’re safe now. No one will hurt you here.” He said it so firmly, with such belief, that I almost believed him.

  I listened hard as he left the room. The door fell closed behind him, but not all the way and I could hear him talking right outside.

  “We were right. She is Olivia. Contact missing persons. Get her family over here. She’s asking for them.” He said calmly. He knew who I was? Did that mean people had been looking for me? For all of this time?

  A strange feeling rose within me, a feeling I had not dared to feel for so long. Hope. Hope that I could go home and everything could be just as it was. It was a foolish lie to tell myself, to even think such things, because deep down I knew I could never ever be who I was before. I had been broken, shattered into millions of tiny pieces again and again. To think I could just magically put them all back and be magically fixed, was a delusion, but it was one I needed more than anything in that lonely, terrifying moment. It was the only thing keeping me going.

  ***

  Hours passed, and mostly I slept. I was bone tired and too weak to fight the sleep that constantly overtook me. Xander came to sit with me often. He’d just chat, about anything and everything and I would just listen. He didn’t ask me questions, except to check if I needed anything. He just kept me company when he could. It felt good to have someone there with me. I had forgotten what it was like to not feel lonely.

  Food was brought to me, but it had been so long since I was given anything resembling real food, it was all just too overwhelming. I would try a forkful, maybe two and be completely full.

  At some point two police detectives came into the room hoping to question me, but the two middle aged men, one balding, one very overweight, were far too terrifying a reminder of my torturer, and more than I could handle. I had slipped into a full blown panic attack, and Xander had shoved them out as he told them I needed more time, then spent the next half hour trying to calm me down.

  Day turned into night and I slept through most of it, waking several times, just long enough to find Xander asleep in the chair beside me each time. He had finished his shift that evening and I knew he was staying because he didn’t want to leave me alone until my parents arrived. He had told me so before I drifted off, but I never expected him to actually stay all night. It was such a kind thing to do and it had been so long since I felt such kindness. It comforted me to know that level of good still existed.

  XANDER

  Finally she gave up the fight and let her eyes close as sleep overcame her. She looked so childlike, a tiny little thing in the middle of the large bed.

  I had been the first one to attend when she’d been brought in by two cops who found her on the interstate, out near Shawnee National Forest.

  She was barefoot, dressed in only a men’s t-shirt which had once been white, but had since been stained with endless months worth of dirt and blood stains . It had been obvious as I started my exam on the girl, she had been through hell, There were scars all over her body, from the soles of her feet, all the way up to several small ones on her face. I couldn’t even begin to guess what had caused half of them, but there were definitely a variety of burns, puckered lines made by a blade of some kind and raised lines indicating she had been beaten with a belt or something similar. Her hair was very long and hung in clumps, caked with blood and dirt.

  I quickly realised she had been held in some way, against her will and that was what had triggered my memory of the young girl who had been kidnapped when I was a teenager. I left orders for my intern and the nurses to get her cleaned up as much as possible and to hook up an IV, then left the room, searching for the old story on my cell as I went. As soon as the photo of the sweet little nine year old girl, smiling widely in a floral sundress, popped up, I knew it was her. She was older, obviously. It had been eight years, but her dark green irises wer
e the same. There was no mistaking those very distinctive eyes.

  I had informed the cops waiting outside her room and left them to look into it while I got back to check on her.

  I don’t know what it was that made me feel so attached to her. Maybe the way she had been brought in alone and afraid, just as I had, after an RTA so many years before. Maybe I just saw in her the need for someone to be there. Whatever it was, I was resolved in my need to keep a close watch on her until her family were found. She was scared and had been through hell. I wouldn’t leave her alone in what must be a terrifying place.

  As soon as she had confirmed who she was the CPD had been notified and her family were being tracked down. It was only a matter of time until they came for her. I hoped that would give her the first step to a long journey of healing.

  OLIVIA

  The next morning I woke, keeping my eyes closed as always, and heard hushed voices from across the room. One was Xander, but the other was a woman. I couldn’t make out what was being said, which unnerved me and forced me to open my eyes and look around hurriedly, trying to gauge the situation around me.

  Xander stood over by the window of my hospital room, whispering with an older woman. I could only see her from the side, but she was older, in her fifties, with a neat greying bob and dressed in blue slacks and a crisp white shirt. She was slim and tall, and very immaculately made up. She had a small black case in her hand and a phone in her other hand as she articulated whatever she was saying with a waving hand.

  Xander glanced past her and over to me, then smiled when he saw me watching. I was still wary of him somewhat, but he had been so good to me, staying when he could just to keep me company. He had told me about his partner, Simon, who was a defense attorney and worked in the city. He’d told me about his work, his home, his hobbies and anything else he could chat about, so in a way I felt as though I was coming to know him enough to lower my very high guard, just a little, with him.