All the Broken Pieces

by Cindi Madsen

  Liv bent over and picked her backpack off the floor. Frustrated or not—and she was extremely frustrated—she decided she should at least thank him for taking her out. Her mom had taught her manners.

  “Thanks for dinner.” She pulled the handle, opening the door.

  “Wait,” Spencer said.

  Liv turned back, relieved he wanted to smooth things over.

  “Don’t forget your pony.” He picked it up from the seat and held it out to her. The pink toy looked tiny in his hand.

  As soon as she took it from him, his gaze returned to the windshield. The urge to slam the door was strong, but she managed to swing it closed with normal force. She tucked the pony into her pocket, walked up the sidewalk, and stepped inside her house. Through the frosted-glass window, she watched Spencer drive away, sure she’d screwed up everything that could have been.

  14

  The girl next to Liv passed her the brown sack. “Hurry, the game’s about to start.”

  The girl—Courtney—was wearing a cheerleading uniform. The same uniform Liv also had on.

  Green’s so not my color.

  The hem of her skirt was flipped up and she smoothed it back down with her free hand. She was wearing the silver charm bracelet with the engraved heart hanging from it. Her acrylic nails were painted in a pale pink, with a jeweled flower on the thumb.

  “Either drink or pass it back,” Courtney said. Her dark hair was gathered into a high ponytail; green and black ribbons cascaded down, mixing with the curls.

  Looking into the brown sack, Liv saw the thick, clear bottle. “What is it?”

  Courtney took the bag out of her hands. “That’s it. You’re cut off. You better remember the cheers when we get out there. I’m not going down because you can’t remember something as simple as ‘Go, fight, win.’”

  Cheers? I don’t know any cheers.

  Another uniformed girl stuck her head around the corner. “Mrs. Willis is coming! Put it away and let’s go!”

  Courtney spun around and shoved the sack into a locker. “Let’s go cheer on our team.”

  Liv reluctantly followed her. As she passed a big glass trophy case, she did a double take. Leaning in, she stared at her reflection. Thick blond hair was gathered into a high ponytail, colored ribbons wrapped around it. Her face was round, her lips done up in bubblegum pink.

  That’s not how I look.

  And yet…

  “Come on!” Courtney yelled.

  Liv turned away from the trophy case and started down the hall. Walking in a straight line wasn’t working, no matter how hard she tried. The walls kept coming closer.

  Courtney clamped onto her arm. “You’re such a lightweight. Pull it together. You know if we get caught again, your mom will ground you for life.”

  “I don’t care what my mom says.” The words came from her mouth, as if they were second nature. She sensed more coming, not even knowing what they’d be. “She can’t tell me how to live my life when hers is such a mess.”

  “Save the speech for after the game when she says you can’t go to the party with Jace.” Courtney dragged Liv toward the open doors of the gym. “Just be cool.”

  “But…”

  Courtney pulled her into the gym. People filled the bleachers, guys in uniform ran onto the shiny wood floor. Liv and Courtney lined up on the sidelines with the rest of the cheerleaders.

  The girl front and center turned back and shot her a dirty look. “It’s about time.” She returned her attention to the floor and clapped her hands together. “Ready…?”

  All the other girls straightened, getting ready for…she had no idea. Panic clutched her chest. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do next.

  “Okay!”

  …

  Liv jerked up, the dream fading away as she looked around her room. Her heart hammered against her rib cage, and it took a couple deep breaths before she finally stopped gasping for air.

  Like the dreams involving Elizabeth, this one was more vivid than usual. As sad as she felt when those dreams ended, she’d take them any time if drunken cheerleader was the other option.

  It didn’t even look like me.

  But it felt so real.

  She thought about the dream where she’d been studying math. The bracelet, nails, hair… It was the same girl, she was sure of it. But what does it mean?

  Sunlight glowed around the blinds in the window, and she smelled the faint scent of bacon and something sweet. Mom must be cooking breakfast.

  The pink pony on the side table caught her eye, and last night came rushing back to her. The playland. The awkward ride home. Spencer had said it wasn’t her, and she wanted to believe that. It did seem like he was a million miles away there at the end.

  Just forget about him. He’s obviously got issues.

  Says the girl with no memory and voices in her head.

  As she got out of bed, she felt the familiar pounding of an oncoming headache.

  …

  Without the commotion of school, the voices had a lot of time to talk to her, pulling her thoughts all over the place. I should get new clothes; I should burn the frilly clothes I have. I should figure out how I’m going to fix things with Sabrina; I wish Sabrina would choke on her own giant ego.

  Back and forth, all day, until she was physically and mentally exhausted. Since Mom and Dad would either overreact or lie, that left her to figure it out on her own.

  So when she was sure Mom and Dad were busy downstairs, she slipped into the office and closed the door. She stared at her distorted reflection in the computer screen for a moment, not sure she was ready for what it might tell her, while at the same time sure she couldn’t put it off any longer.

  Finally she clicked onto the Internet and pulled up Google. Her fingers trembled as she typed in: hearing voices

  She glanced over her shoulder, double-checking that she’d closed the door.

  Better lock it. Liv turned the lock as slowly and quietly as possible, then moved back to the computer. Her stomach was a knot of jangled nerves as she scanned the results.

  The top items were on schizophrenia symptoms. Great. Just great. It was what she’d been afraid of, and a big part of why she’d put it off for so long. But as she scanned down, there were words under the titles that gave her hope.

  People who hear voices in their heads don’t always need psychiatric help. Sometimes the voices within can guide you in everyday life.

  Well, that doesn’t sound so bad. Even though my voices are more about shouting and bickering than guiding. She clicked on that link. It talked about how the voices were usually a result of trauma. Obviously wrecking your car and nearly dying was traumatic, so big check on that one. It even said the greater the trauma, the more likely the voices will sound threatening.

  After scanning through that article, she clicked back to her original search and moved to the second result on the page.

  Hearing voices is a common symptom of severe mental illness, although many people with no other symptoms also hear voices.

  Liv glanced at the door again, listening for any sounds that might mean Mom or Dad were coming upstairs, then read through the article. One of the subheadings was Practical Advice for People Who Hear Voices.

  Perfect, she thought. That’s exactly what I need right now.

  She frowned as she read the “practical advice.” It suggested talking to other voice hearers. Oh, sure, guess I’ll go up to people and ask, do you hear voices? No? Never mind then, and of course I don’t, either.

  One article on schizophrenia said there was often a connection between creativity and mental illness. She didn’t feel very creative, though maybe she should see if she could pick up a paintbrush and create an amazing painting, or… What else do creative people do? If I don’t know, does it mean I’m not one?

  Judging by the outfit you put on today, you’re not creative at all.

  I suppose you call sticking a flower in your hair on par with a Da Vinci painting?
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  More like Monet—he was much more into painting flowers. And you think you’re the smart one?

  “Could you two shush now?” Liv hissed. “I’m trying to convince myself I’m not crazy, and it’d be much easier if I wasn’t arguing with myself.”

  She read through a few more articles, until she had more information than she knew what to do with swirling through her head. From what she could find, the possibilities were schizophrenia and bipolar disorder. Their symptoms included hallucinations, which she didn’t have, unless she counted the dreams. But they were only extremely vivid dreams, right? Borderline hallucinations, at most.

  Okay, so as long as the voices stay in my head and the dreams are only during the night, I can deal with this. I’m not the only one.

  After staring at the screen for a moment, she moved the cursor to close the window, but then she had an idea. What would she find if she looked up her parents? She went back to the home page and clicked inside the search bar.

  Each beat of her heart was faster and harder than the one before. The thought of doing the search made her stomach clench. Still, she hovered her fingers over the keyboard, wondering if she should start with Mom or Dad.

  She jumped when her phone rang. She dug it out of her pocket, desperate to quiet it before Mom and Dad came upstairs and caught her.

  “The party was so lame,” Keira said when she answered. “All the same people were there, and I was totally bored. I wish you would’ve come.”

  She didn’t know why Keira had decided to like her, but she was glad all the same. “It’s not like my being there would’ve made it more exciting,” she said as she cleared the Internet history and shut down the computer.

  “Adding a new element always makes it more exciting. Clay was disappointed you didn’t go, by the way.”

  Warmth tingled through her chest and she could feel the goofy smile on her lips. “He said that?”

  “Hello, he didn’t have to. I could just tell. So, what have you been doing today? My Saturday was so boring.”

  Liv walked to her room as she relayed the day’s events to Keira—skipping her Google search—then sat on the bed and listened to Keira go on and on about Samuel, a guy in her literature class. They chatted for about an hour, until even Keira ran out of things to say.

  After she hung up the phone, she got into her pajamas, planning on turning in early. She and Dad had teamed up to convince Mom to go hike one of the Mingus Mountain trails tomorrow morning. According to several of Dad’s colleagues, there was a killer view once you got to the top.

  Wondering what shoes would be the best for hiking, she opened her closet doors.

  It’s going to be nice to do something new. A rush of excitement ran through her and she clapped.

  “Go. Fight. Win.” As she said the words, her arm came up in a square in front of her, raised in a fist, then thrust in the air.

  She repeated the cheer again. Then did it faster.

  Goose bumps broke out across her skin, and the hairs on her neck stood on end. “Now that’s just weird.”

  15

  Sweat broke out across Liv’s forehead.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to pull your hair back?” Mom asked.

  At this point, looking good wasn’t even an option. Her T-shirt had sweat marks around the collar and under the arms, and her hair had cemented itself to her neck. But people passed on a constant basis and she felt less exposed with her hair down. “I’m okay.”

  Mom thrust a bottle toward her. “Drink some water.”

  Liv took a swig. At the beginning of the hike, the water had been cool; now it was just as warm as the sticky air surrounding it.

  “Better let Dad check your heart rate.”

  “I’m fine, really,” Liv said. When Mom frowned, she lowered her voice and leaned toward her. “It’ll be embarrassing. I swear, if I feel bad, I’ll let you know.”

  A man came down the trail, a dog tugging him forward. He lifted his hand. “Dr. Stein! Nice to see you.”

  Dad introduced her and Mom to Dr. Harris, who worked at the clinic, too. The yellow Lab pulled against his leash, heading for Liv. She backpedaled a couple steps, but then an image of a dog bringing her a stick popped into her head. A calm feeling washed over her, and she felt a surge of affection for the Lab. Palm up, she extended her hand to the dog’s nose.

  He sniffed it. Then licked it with his warm tongue. His tail swished back and forth.

  “This is Tag,” Dr. Harris said. “It looks like he likes you.”

  Liv knelt in front of the dog and scratched his ears. “Hey, Tag.”

  As Mom, Dad, and Dr. Harris continued to talk—some kind of medical mumbo jumbo— Liv ran her fingers through Tag’s coat. Something about the coarse hair against her palm tugged at her memory. Even his nasty breath only made him more endearing. If anyone had asked her earlier how she felt about dogs, she never would’ve said she liked them. But now she realized she did.

  “Guess I better get going,” Dr. Harris said. “I’ll see you later, Henry.” He nodded at Mom, then Liv. “Nice to finally meet you both.”

  Liv reluctantly stood. As she watched Tag walk away, a sense of longing washed through her. “Did I ever have a dog?”

  Dad shot her a sidelong glance. “Have you met your mother?”

  “I don’t have anything against dogs,” Mom scoffed. “I just don’t want to be cleaning off dog hair and picking up after them with little Baggies.”

  Every time something felt familiar, it seemed to contradict her life, which made her feel even more lost. When am I going to get over this awful sense of wrongness?

  And what am I going to do if it never goes away?

  They continued up the trail, finally making it to the top. The air was a couple degrees cooler, and she took deep breaths, trying to ease the cramp in her side. Red-hued hills contrasted the deep blue sky, shrubbery dotted the land below, and a tree-lined river cut a trail through the valley. It looked like a picture straight out of Dad’s magazines.

  Okay, so it sucks that I messed up everything with Spencer and that I miss a dog I never had. But I made it up this hill, and I didn’t flinch once when other people passed me on the trail.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she caught movement. But she didn’t get her hands up in time. The spinning yellow Frisbee binged her in the side of the head, then fell to the ground. Rubbing the spot where it had hit, she turned around.

  “Sorry,” a younger boy with a round, flushed face said, making his way over.

  “It’s okay.” Liv bent down to get the Frisbee, right as he reached for it.

  The kid looked up and his eyes widened. “Ew, that looks disgusting! What happened to you?”

  Glancing down, Olivia saw the tip of her scar peeking out of the top of her shirt. Her hand shot up, flattening her neckline as she stood.

  Pain radiated through her chest, not from the physical contact but from somewhere deep inside.

  “Yo, Felix,” a voice yelled, making Liv flinch. “Hurry up.”

  The kid grabbed the Frisbee and ran back toward his friend, leaving her standing there, fighting tears. I should chase that chubby kid down and bing him over the head with the Frisbee. The voice held venom, but underneath it, there was pain.

  J-just ignore him. It doesn’t matter what he thinks.

  It felt like every ounce of her energy had been drained and in its place was now suffocating sadness, weighing her down. Often, with all the fighting going on in her head, she felt like three people constantly at war. Right now she was feeling the ache of all three of them. It was even worse than the bickering.

  Mom came over and draped an arm around her shoulders. “I’m glad you and Dad talked me into this. The view’s so pretty up here.” Worry creased her brow. “Are you okay, sweetheart? Is it your heart? Did we push you too hard?”

  It was her heart, but it had nothing to do with the hike. Liv lowered her hand, blinking to keep the tears from spilling out. She swallowed past the
giant lump in her throat. “I’m done. I just want to go home.”

  And never leave again.

  …

  Monday morning came too fast. Liv had dragged herself out of bed at the last possible minute, thrown on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt she’d found on her floor, and hadn’t even bothered with makeup. Since she’d fallen asleep with wet hair last night, her locks were half-wavy, half-smashed, and all-the-way frizzy. The girly voice was appalled.

  Now, as she stood at the base of the steps to the school, her legs felt as heavy as her heart. It was stupid to think I could ever be normal. My chance at normal ended the night I wrapped my car around that tree.

  Keira was the only potential for a close friend, and maybe Clay, but that was because they didn’t know about her missing memories.

  They hadn’t seen her repulsive scar.

  And she was going to make sure no one else ever saw it again.

  Those words that had tortured her since yesterday’s hike ran through her head again: Ew, that looks disgusting! What happened to you?

  She was broken. Unfixable.

  People rushed by, bumping into her like there wasn’t a whole freaking stairway. Back the hell off, she wanted to yell. Instead, she gritted her teeth and trudged up the stairs. Her eyes burned from crying herself to sleep.

  The second she walked into the building, there was Sabrina and the gang, all polished perfection. Unfortunately, Keira wasn’t there, and she was the only person she thought she could stand this morning.

  Sabrina’s eyebrows shot up. “Whoa,” she said, managing to pack a hundred insults into such a tiny word. “What look were you going for this morning?”

  Taylor and Candace giggled.

  Something inside Liv snapped. “I was going for, I don’t give a shit what you think.”

  Eyes widened, mouths hung open. The words had burst out of her, and Liv liked how they sounded now that they were there, mixed in with the gossip.

  The fear hit a few seconds later.