Shattered

Chapter 1

Everyone who's anyone and no one in Carrington knew who Cole Clarke was. And if you didn't? Well, whatever rock you've been living under point it in my direction. I wanted to hide under it with glee. Or I could've used it to hit my brother Miles upside the head...actually that sounded like the more appealing option. 

Anyway.

Cole terrified me, in fact he terrified everyone. He was the leader of the Black Birds, a bad group with a scary name who were the lead cause for the drug epidemic that currently had its hold on Carrington. They were bad guys, like would chop a finger off and send it to your relative, then leave you hanging upside down and drain you of your blood bad guys. Cole was the worst of them. He'd inherited the position from his dad, Vincent Clarke. He'd gone to school with my dad and from what mine told me growing up it was a generational thing, the leadership of the Black Birds. Either way, they were bad news.

Essentially the Black Birds ran Carrington, they had their hands on pretty much everything with little reprieve to those who fell victim to their shitty ways. Even the mayor was in deep with them, he was nothing but a puppet, Cole was the one really calling the shots and it didn't take much for the average joe— aka me— to figure that out.

Despite all of that though, I loved Carrington. I loved the beaches that lined the town, the hidden cliffside spot I would steal away too when things became too much, and I loved it because my dad had loved it. He'd always viewed Carrington as a hidden gem, a natural wonder with the woods that lay on one side and the ocean on the other. He'd always wanted to explore the outskirts more, go on a hike or two. Well, that's what mum had told me any way. Dad died when I was ten.

I don't remember much of what happened, I was there though. We were caught in the crossfire between the Black Birds and a deal gone wrong. Dad and I were just leaving the old book store on Kane street when the shots rang out and the next thing I knew pain like a burning fire spread through my entire body as the screeches of car tires and my dad's frantic voice faded as we both fell to the ground.

Dad saved me that night, he'd shielded me with his own body taking the majority of the bullets. I'd still been hit though, twice in the left leg and once in my side. Bone had shattered, skin had ripped and the last thing I saw before passing out was blood as deep as crimson trickle through the cracks in the cobblestone street.

I'd awoken in hospital to find mum right beside me. When she told me—when she told me dad hadn't made it, well, any innocence I had as a ten-year-old child was taken away from me in that moment. As was my ability to walk as I once had.  Yep, goodbye cross country. The bullets that entered my left leg had shattered the femur, I'd gone through so many surgeries and by the end result I was stuck with having to use a cane for the rest of my damned life.

Yep I was a cripple.

I was already beginning to feel the impossible insecurities forced upon young girls by societies standards at that age and the prospect of being further away from attaining those standards was devastating to me. Obviously now, that was dumb, and I could kick myself for thinking that, but at the time it was the truth. It sucked ass, and it sucked that we would never get to go on those hikes he'd talked about , and it really, really sucked that my dad was dead.

My life sucked for a number of reasons.

I tried not to be all 'woe is me' though because then that would only make things suck even more. So, I lived with that night and the trauma of seeing my blood mixed with my father's trickle into the dimly lit street. It never evaded me, always teasing and lurking. Sleep was when I was at my most vulnerable to remember, the nightmares were twisted little fuckers that would cause me to wake up screaming most nights. At first, it'd scared mum half to death, she'd grown used to them by the time I was eighteen though. Then, when I moved out to have my own space for university, she didn't have to worry about them anymore. I felt relieved for her, the guilt had gnawed at me for a multitude of reasons and at least now she could get a full night's sleep without worrying about me.