Gracie-Lou in Broken Mirrors Shattered Dreams

Part 1

Prologue

I hate being criticized. I have been criticized for as long as I can remember. Living in the shadow of my older sister, Annie, and not being able to live up to the memory of a ghost, I feel as though I am the one forgotten.

Who am I?

Well, I have asked myself that same damn question every single day of my life.  My momma had three daughters; Annie is first-born, Katie died before I was born, and then there is me. My name is Gracie-Louise. Momma was married to a man for eight years before the bastard took her life, leaving me without a Momma.

Annie is really my half-sister. We have different fathers. She took care of me as best she could up until she suddenly disappeared one day when I was about five years old. I don’t really remember what happened exactly. Police took me away from the place of my birth in the Bronx and shipped me out to a one-horse town in Kansas.

Everybody in Kansas seemed to talk much slower than the motor mouths in the Bronx. I missed my sister, but as weeks turned to months, I started to believe Annie wasn’t coming to rescue me like she promised. Then, one day, my whole world rocked again when I discovered my father wasn’t actually my father.  I met the news with a sigh of relief. It didn’t bother me – not right away. The man I had believed to be my father was mean and nasty.  I never felt any kind of affection for him. I understood why Annie did her best to protect me from his wrath. The memory of his bite, administered by the leather strap, remains with me to this day.

For close to five years, I lived under the foster care of an elderly couple until Annie married Oliver Bradley. He was a police officer before his accident. The two of us got along from the moment we first met.

When Annie and Oliver took over the house where I had been living for five years, my world turned upside down again with the arrival of their first baby. There was never a dull moment in the house after that.

My real dad bought the next property to help Annie and Oliver manage the one we lived on. I never really found out the full story of how Annie and Oliver met. They skirt around the topic as if there is something taboo about their history.

Eventually, I end up rounding out and attract the attention of Alexander Cullen – Alex for short. Oliver and my father hired him to help on the farm. Alex and I usually spend more time hanging out in the back of the barn, fooling around, than he does actually working.

I have big dreams–I’m an idealist. There are things in life I want to happen a certain way with a certain person. I went looking for a special love in the wrong place. But the kind of love I am longing for belongs to my sister…

* * *

Bronx, NY, 1997

The house is unusually quiet. My dad does not have his regular buddies downstairs playing poker. There is no stench of stale cigarettes wafting up the stairs and under our bedroom door.

I share a room with my older sister, Annie. Her birthday is coming up soon, but she hates celebrating it. Mrs. Brown, my teacher, encouraged me to paint a picture for Annie to show her how much I love her, even though she does not like presents on her birthday.

I do not know why she does not like presents – I do!

Annie is like my mother now. She takes me to school every morning and helps me with my letters. I have started learning how to write my own name. Annie calls me Lou for short, even though my name is Gracie-Louise. I like the shorter version of my name, it is easier to write, but my teacher insists I learn how to write my full name. I grip the pencil with my left hand and the teacher gives up trying to correct my grip. Twisting my book at an angle–opposite to the other kids that I share a desk with, I try to get the ‘G’ just right. It is tough and I have trouble doing the little ‘e’ properly, but writing the letter ‘O’ is a breeze. My tongue pokes out from the corner of my mouth as I concentrate guiding my pencil, scratching the white paper of an exercise book with large spaced guidelines for writing. I finish–triumphant–the bell rings. It is time to go home and I know Annie will be waiting for me at the school gate.

Annie is real kind to me. I love her cuddles as she scoops me into her arms and repeatedly kisses my cheeks. I never see much of my dad. He lets Annie do everything for me. She is my best friend. I want to be just like her when I grow up. We walk home hand in hand–me, swinging Annie’s arm back and forth. I am happy and have a skip in my step.

We spend rest of the afternoon doing my homework. Annie helps steady my hand as I guide the pencil over my full name. I think I have finally mastered how to do that little ‘e’.

Later that night, as I snuggled into my blankie, I hear my sister’s breathing as she sleeps in the bed next to mine. She seems sound asleep as heavy footsteps–lots of them–come up the stairs. The sound stops at our bedroom door. Something inside me knows this is bad so, I pretend I am asleep. If it is the Boogieman, he might leave me alone if he thinks I am asleep.

The door opens and I shut my eyes tight. I do not want to see who is there in case the Boogieman has come to get us! The heavy footsteps cross our room and stop near our beds. I am scared, but stubbornly refuse to open my eyes. I hear Annie’s muffled screams and then the heavy footsteps leave our bedroom. When the sound of our bedroom door clicks closed, I pretend to roll over in my sleep, so I can face Annie’s bed. I sneak a peek from behind my blankie at her bed, but she is gone.

A slight scent of aftershave lingers in the air. I know that scent.

Does the Boogieman wear cologne? Annie is gone. What has he done with her?

I hide under my blankie and close my eyes, hoping this is a bad dream, and when I wake, Annie will be safe in her bed.

When I wake the next morning, I gaze over at Annie’s bed and it is still empty. The sheet–crumpled in the center of the bed and the cover is missing. I gasp. “The Boogieman is real!” I breathe. Quickly, I climb out of bed and run for the bedroom door. I try turning the knob, but the door is locked. A tray of food and a glass of juice balances on our dresser. Annie always makes me breakfast before school.

Could she have made me breakfast and then locked me in our room?

I am confused, but hungry. I eat both cold slices of buttered white toast and drink the warmish orange juice left out on the tray for me. The food has been sitting there a while.

Where is Annie?

I sit on the edge of my bed, waiting for her to open the door and help me dress for school, but I wait for most of the day, and Annie does not come. No one does.

My tummy growls and I really have to tinkle, but I am too scared to make any noise. I do not want the Boogieman to take me away too. I bunch up Annie’s sheets in the corner of our room and tinkle on them then crawl back into my bed and wait. My blankie is comforting and I fall asleep, wanting to believe today is just a bad dream and tomorrow, everything will be all right again.

Look out for Chapter 1 - Coming Soon!

To catch up on the story so far, grab the first ebook in the series now from Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Itunes, and Kobo! Fifteen Shards of Broken Glass - Phoenix L. James is the pen name of Taylor Morgan. All rights reserved.