by Ava Conway
H o l l o w
Book #1 of the
Perfect Little Pieces Series
~By~
Ava Conway
Lucy White had it all—popularity, an acceptance into a pre-vet program at a prestigious college and a hot boyfriend—until one day something happened that made everything change. Battered and broken, she gives up on life, preferring to waste away at Newton Heights Psychiatric Hospital than to feel the guilt and pain. The hollow feeling inside her heart threatens to swallow her whole, until she meets someone who makes her realize how wonderful a life can be.
As Jayden McCray peels back her defenses, the pain returns, and Lucy is forced to deal with the ghosts of her past. Jayden gives her the strength to face her fears, until his inner demons interfere and threaten to send her back to that dark place from which she came…
Hollow
Book #1 of the Perfect Little Pieces Series
Written by: Ava Conway
This e-book is contains excerpts that are works of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © April 2013 by Ava Conway
All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from Ava Conway. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
Printed in the United States of America
Cover Artist: Fantasia Frog Designs
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Epilogue
Biography
Extras
Excerpt: Love Me for Me
Prologue
Every morning you get up and put on a fake smile...
But what if one morning you didn't? Would anyone notice?
~ Anonymous
I was drowning.
No, not the kind with water. I wasn’t that lucky. At least with water, I’d feel the cool liquid filling my lungs. I’d sense death squeeze the last bit of life-giving air from my chest. The kind of drowning I felt wasn’t quite so physical. At least, not yet.
I was so damn tired. Tired of faking happiness, when all I wanted to do was cry. Tired of making plans for the future, when there was nothing left to live for. For a while, I had fooled them all. As the only child of the famous animal rights lobbyists Marion and Clark White, I had perfect grades, perfect friends, and a perfect life. I was all set to graduate magna cum laude from a prestigious Ivy League College in May. I had a great boyfriend and numerous friends I could count on in a pinch. Just the week before, I had been accepted at a top-rated veterinary school to pursue my dream of working with animals.
Only, I didn’t have any of that. Not anymore.
It was all my fault. No one had blamed me for what had happened that night, of course. It was an accident, they had said. A horrible, vile accident. My boyfriend’s parents were supportive, as were my family, teachers, and friends. They all applauded the fact that I had survived, when my closest friend and boyfriend didn’t.
How terrible, they had said. Put school on hold until you heal, they had said. Don’t worry, you can pick up where you left off. Everything will be okay.
But it wasn’t okay. It would never be okay again.
I was forced to quit college and dedicate my time to physical therapy. During that long spring and summer, I had gone to numerous doctors, both physical and mental. My parents had doted on me and friends sent flowers. All of them said I was lucky to survive such a terrible car crash, but they were wrong. While my physical body had healed, I was still broken inside. Every day that passed resulted in a few more pieces of my soul slipping away.
By the time the autumn leaves had begun to fall, my parents had started to worry, so I plastered on the happy smile and went through the mindless routine of everyday life. After a month or two, the doctors pronounced me ‘healed’. My friends moved on with their lives, finding jobs, marrying or going to grad school. My parents fell back into the routine where I was treated more like a trophy they had won, not a daughter who was hurting inside. As winter passed into spring, things had come full circle and a sense of normalcy enveloped their lives. Everybody cared about the bright future I had to look forward to when I started school again in the fall. Nobody cared about me.
I turned away from my parents’ backyard pool and picked up the picture I had left on the patio table. It was from a happier time, taken when Kyle and I were at the homecoming football game over a year ago. The camera had captured the moment perfectly. Sunlight reflected off Kyle’s thick, blond hair as I tousled it with my fingers. He was laughing, his blue eyes sparkling. I looked so dark and plain next to his brightness. My mousey locks and muddy eyes could never compare to his angelic face. Through the camera lens, I could see his lust for life, his happiness. In one moment of stupidity, I had snuffed that light out. It would never shine again.
I ran my finger over his hair one last time as tears filled my eyes. “Oh Kyle. I’m so sorry.” Sorry everything got so messed up at that fraternity party. Sure, we had our differences, but every couple had problems. Just because we fought didn’t mean I wanted you dead.…
Although if I was brutally honest with myself, I’d have admitted that a small part of me was relieved. All of the fighting was finally over—
No, it wasn’t relief I felt, it couldn’t be. What kind of person felt relieved over a loved one’s death? Murderers and serial killers felt relief. Not college students with straight A’s and bright futures. Not me.
But I did feel relief. Relief that our on-again, off-again relationship had finally run its course. Kyle wouldn’t find me this time. He wouldn’t suck me back into his reckless lifestyle with those beautiful blue eyes and full lips.
I was such a terrible person. I should’ve been the one to die that night. Not him. Not Bethany. I didn’t even have a chance to say goodbye.
I wiped my runny nose with the back of my hand and placed the picture next to the empty bottle of Vicodin. My dad had hurt his back a month ago at the Equestrian Club when his favorite horse bucked unexpectedly and tossed him in the dirt. He had said that he hated ‘those damn pills’ because they made him feel all dopey and hollow inside. When he said those words, I had thought how nice it would be to feel something—anything—besides the oppressive guilt and pain in my chest.
It won’t be long now.
A thick fog crept into my brain, making it difficult to think. So damn tired. Resolution came over me as I turned back toward the pool. A calming presence touched my heart, and for the first time in a long time, I felt almost happy. I imagined Kyle watching me from a distance, waiting for me to join him and Bethany in the great beyond. Come home, Lucy. Come home.
I looked down at the pool, knowing that if the Vicodin didn’t do the trick, the rippling water certainly would. Between the two, there was no chance of me surviving. Not this time.
I took a deep breath and leaned over the cement edging. The splash my body mad
e as it hit the surface was the last thing I heard.
Cool water surrounded me as I started to sink. The weights I had tied around my ankles were pulling me deeper, deeper…
Suddenly I saw movement along the side of the pool above my head. My parents. When the hell did they get home? They were supposed to be out antiquing with the Andersons. They’d try to save me of course. I could almost hear my mother shouting to my father in that nasally, Long Island accent of hers.
No matter. They were too late. I could already feel the blackness coming for me. It hovered along the edge of my consciousness, waiting. I opened my arms as if I was greeting a lover. Finally, I’ll be at peace…
Chapter One
Six Months Later
I snorted with disgust as the hospital staff marched into the room. Patients, like good worker bees, moved to the metal folding chairs forming a circle in the center of the tan carpet. I tightened my arms around my legs and refused to move. If those knuckleheads thought I was going to participate in this madness, they had another thing coming.
Perhaps if I ignored them, they’d leave me alone with my pain. My position—a small bench in front of a windowsill—was in the corner of the common room and far away from the commotion. Maybe I could blend in with the paisley wallpaper and avoid all of this torment.
I turned away from the gathering crowd and glanced at the large, sterile clock on the wall. Two o’clock. I still had a good two hours before the staff came in with the afternoon medicine. Two more hours of gut-wrenching guilt before the little blue pills took it all away and left me blissfully hollow inside.
“We have something new for our Rec Therapy session today,” the head doctor said with obvious excitement. She clutched a clipboard to her chest as she paced in front of the small crowd of young people. Every part of her was purple, from the pantsuit, to the nails, to the dark smudge above her eyes. Even the tie holding her bleach-blonde hair in a bun was made of purple lace. While the color worked for some, it didn’t for her. Thanks to her small, pear-shaped body, the doctor looked more eggplant than human.
“As you know, we have received special funding to work with a group of volunteers…”
She droned on about the hospital’s good fortune and the kindness of others. I rolled my eyes. To keep me out of the headlines, my parents had donated a great sum of money to the Newton Heights Psychiatric Hospital in exchange for them not speaking with the press. The hospital insisted that they’d never do such a thing, even without the money, but my parents didn’t want to take any chances. After my three suicide attempts in the past six months, they were tired of being in the public eye. The sooner I got out of the papers, the sooner they could go back to their cocktail parties and Sunday bunches. With a little luck, I’d become nothing more than a disappointing memory, a blemish on their otherwise perfect life.
Evidently the staff had decided to use my parents’ ‘donation’ for some new form of patient-torture.
“Care to join us, Ms. White?”
I looked up from my perch by the window and met the head doctor’s brilliant smile. Such perfect teeth. How could she be so damn happy in such a depressing place?
Useless, all of it. I had only been in the hospital for a few days, but was already sick of this place. The poor woman had no idea how much this institution was a farce. She was just like my parents, covering herself in the latest fad to mask the fact she had no substance. The doctor had probably worked her entire life to become head shrink at this hospital, and for what? So she could walk around in a neatly-pressed pantsuit and wave a clipboard at a bunch of people half her age? I, like the rest of the teens and twenty-somethings at Newton Heights, was an embarrassment. If society could stuff all of us with our files in the records room down the hall, they would. No one wanted to deal with us, not even Dr. Fancy-Pantsuit. We were the rejects of society. The unwanted, unloved.
An infusion of money and some trendy program wasn’t going to change that. Nothing would. I frowned and turned back to my window without answering.
The doctor sighed and continued on with her speech. A few late stragglers tumbled into the room. One of them, a big, burly man with shaggy hair and golden eyes, stopped and stared at me. There was a wildness in his gaze that made me a little edgy, like he was more animal than human. Something wasn’t quite right with that one, more so than the normal craziness I saw around this place. It gave me the creeps.
He nodded to me and licked his lips. Uneasiness crawled over my skin as another patient nudged him and he turned away. I tightened my knees against my chest as a shiver rolled down my spine. Whoever that patient was, I vowed to stay far away from him. In fact, it was better to stay far away from everyone in this place. Hopelessness and despair permeated everything here. The patients wore it on their faces. The staff carried it in the slump of their shoulders. It was damn depressing.
Fuck it. It was pointless to think about. For the time being at least, this hell was my home. I let out a long breath and scanned the small courtyard behind the building through the window. Workers rushed about, busy pruning the bushes and flowers in preparation for winter a few, short weeks away. Just beyond the courtyard sat a large, wire fence. The fence was tall but climbable, if one had enough motivation. It was the first thing I had noticed when I arrived on the premises. It made me feel like a rat in a cage.
Over the fence sprawled the Virginia hills that overlooked the city of Greendale. My new home. Far enough away from Washington, but close enough to my parents’ summer house so that they could visit. When I had first arrived, the hills were crawling with reporters, looking to get a story for their papers. With parents so active in politics, my life was constantly under the microscope, and being checked into a psychiatric hospital was front-page news. After a while, the reporters finally realized that they weren’t going to get a story and dispersed. All but a few die-hards remained.
What would it be like to wander out over those hills? Tears filled my eyes as I stared at the bright green grass on the landscape. To be free of the reporters, my parents, my pain…
A loud bark disrupted my thoughts. I jerked back from the window and scanned the room. Who the hell brought dogs in here?
I blinked at the large golden retrievers as they moved about the circle of folding chairs. There were five of them. Each wore a small, blue cape with the words “White’s Howlistic Healers” on it.
I bit back a string of curses. Damn you, mother. Why does everything have to be a political game? I could almost see the headlines now: “White’s Dog-Healing Charity Rescues Daughter.” My parents would use the free press to gain traction for their latest cause—giving unloved animals to unloved humans so that they can be pathetic together. Having one of those dingy creatures heal their own daughter would be the perfect publicity. Did my parents have no shame?
I tightened my arms around my knees and leaned against the window. Perhaps if I pressed hard enough against the glass, I could push my body through and escape this terrible nightmare.
“Lucy, honey.”
I looked up to see the doctor sitting on the small window-side bench by my feet.
“Why don’t you join us?”
Maybe when hell freezes over. I turned back to the window and wondered if the doctor knew her institution was being used by my parents in a political power-play on Capitol Hill. Probably not. My mother was charismatic and persuasive. The doctor probably thought the gift was given out of the goodness of my parents’ hearts.
I knew better. Everything my parents did had a political motive—especially my mother. Every club they belonged to, every friend they made, had a hidden purpose. Now they were using my presence at this hospital to serve one of their agendas. It was disgusting.
The doctor placed her clipboard on her lap and sighed. “Every day you show up to your required therapy sessions—group, recreational, even the one-on-one—yet every day you refuse to participate.”
I pulled my knees closer to my chest. Like I had a choice. I was forced
to go to all of those therapy sessions. It was part of my new treatment program and for every session I attended, I got points toward rewards like going into the courtyard or getting a coffee from the visitor café downstairs.
They could force my attendance, but they couldn’t make me participate.
“You want to reach out, I can see that.” The doctor placed her palm on my fingers. It felt like ice. I jerked away at the intimate contact, but the chill had already infected my bloodstream and was working its way to my chest.
“I wish you’d speak to me. Just once.”
I closed my eyes as the doctor’s chill sliced through my chest and turned into a hollow ache. The doctor didn’t care about me, not really. To her, I was just a job. She could go home at five o’clock and leave this dreadful place. I was stuck here for at least the next few months, quite possibly the rest of my life.
“You can trust me, Lucy. I’m your friend. I want to help.”
Friends? Just like Bethany and Kyle were my friends? No, having friends only brought pain. It was much safer not to touch or talk, to be an isolated island of strength.
“Come on. The dogs are beautiful.” The doctor smiled at the crowd on the other side of the room. “They’re so soft, too. Why don’t we go over and touch one of them?”
Hell no. Those dogs were sponsored by my parents. They were a painful reminder of how far I had fallen from their expectations, of the failure I had become. I glanced at the group and saw the big burly patient watching me with open interest. He nodded and offered a half-smile that made him look even creepier.
I jerked my head back to the doctor and shook my head. If she thought I was leaving this bench, then she was crazier than all of the patients at Newton Heights put together.
