Broken Faith: Spiritual Discord, 1

by Brandy Nacole

  Walking in the house, I’m met with that dead silence that seems to echo through every empty home. The type of silence you’re desperate to fill with something, anything, whether it’s the television, music, or even just the washing machine. Sometimes the quiet was just too quiet. I grab my phone and hit the music button. I hit the playlist and just before the song starts blaring, my phone rings.

  Looking at the caller I.D., I see its Braylee. I wonder what my overly energetic friend has up her sleeve now.

  “Hey girl, up to no good?”

  Braylee sighs dramatically, “You know me, always out for a thrill. Harper, Gaige, Chase, and I are going hiking up Steely Ridge. We were wondering if you and Briston wanted to come.”

  “I can’t right now and I don’t know where Briston is.” It isn’t that I don’t want to hang out with my friends. I love being around them. But right now, I’m just not in the mood for a hike. Plus, I have to work tonight.

  “Come on Emma, we haven’t seen you much since you’ve started school. Just come with us.” Braylee says with her best whiny voice.

  “I’m serious, I can’t. I have to check up on some things at my folks’ place and then get ready for work.”

  “Fine.” Braylee sighs with disappointment. “So when are we going to get to see your brown-haired, freckled face again?”

  “I do not have freckles.”

  “According to those little specks on your cheeks, you in fact do have freckles.”

  I roll my eyes and sigh. Was it my fault we had spent the whole summer at the lake getting sunburned because someone bought tanning oil instead of sunscreen? No. That was all on Braylee.

  “Like you’re one to talk. You have freckles all over you.”

  Braylee is a natural red head with perfect curls that wrapped around her pale, pretty face that really made her bright green eyes stand out. With fair skin like hers, she always added a few freckles to her skin every summer when she exposed her body to the sun.

  “Yes but mine are cute and give me a little flare. Yours on the other hand, are scattered dots that add nothing to your features. You know if you went with us today, you could probably add a few to give you that final pop of beauty.”

  I can hear Harper and Chase in the background telling Braylee to quit being rude.

  “What?” I hear her sass back. “She knows I’m being honest, that’s why she loves me.”

  I snort. “Yes, your love has no bounds. That’s why so few can withstand it.”

  “The best baby, only the best. So, no changing your mind?”

  “Sorry Bray, I’m sitting this one out. How about we all meet up tomorrow after I get off work. We can hang out, watch some movies.”

  “Sounds good but I’m getting the movies. You guys always pick the sissy movies. If I wanted to watch some crap movie that will leave me teary-eyed all night, I’d just stay home. We need some edge-of-your-seat stuff so we can lend each other mutual support when night falls and we all have to go home alone.”

  I shake my head, “Fine, you can pick the movies. You know, you never cease to amaze me.”

  “Never underestimate how amazing I can be.” I can just picture the wicked little grin on her face.

  I hang up the phone and click my playlist again. Music starts blaring through my speakers, filling the house with welcome sound. I don’t bother checking things up stairs. I know my mom left everything immaculately clean. I head straight for the kitchen, grabbing a Coke from the fridge, as I fill the watering can.

  I look over at the neatly-arranged plants that line the corner of the kitchen, as I take a sip of my Coke. My mom has this insane obsession with herbs. She likes to keep her plants in stock, especially during the winter. Home remedies are her specialty. Anytime anyone gets a sniffle or sneeze, she’s off in the kitchen to look up a remedy to fix the problem. It may be healthier to take natural medicine, but I didn’t have the time or patience to pluck and grind leaves. Plus, it’s a bit outside the accepted field of study for me.

  I can still remember the shocked look my mother gave me when I told her I wanted to be a doctor. I know she is proud of all the things I have accomplished in my life but choosing to be a doctor came as a surprise to her. I think she wanted me to pursue another area of study if I was going to be dealing with medicine; one that revolved around natural remedies. She spent most of her time preaching to me about plants and how people would feel better if they got rid of all the harsh chemical products in their homes. I’m willing to bet that if I told her I was pursuing pharmaceutical science to push the issue of herbal-based medicine, she would have thrown a party for the whole town to celebrate. Instead, I received a smile and hug accompanied by a small dinner with just her and dad.

  It hadn’t been my first choice to become a doctor. I wanted to go to New York and pursue my real dream of dancing. I started dancing when I was three and fell in love. I’ve competed in some of the top-notch dance performances across the west and placed in most of them. My parents always supported me, driving me to competitions, watching my rehearsals, and even critiquing my routines.

  My parents had no idea that I was accepted into Tisch in New York. They would have supported me just like they have for the last eighteen years. But of course I couldn’t travel clear across the country and leave them, not after my brother had just stomped on their hearts. They needed me here. So when Briston pushed me to find a new career choice after realizing he wasn’t going to convince me to go to New York, becoming a doctor was the first thing that came to mind. I had never really thought of anything else, and being a doctor was just one of those well-respected professions that so many want to have as a career.

  Problem was, the closest city to pursue that degree was in Salt Lake City, which, even though it’s closer than New York, it’s still too far away. Heck, the town I lived in now, Provo, still felt too far away. So here I am just taking courses as a nursing assistant. Briston knew my heart was broken about not going into dance, and when I told him I was going to be a doctor, he had repeatedly asked me if I was sure. After I gave him a half-hearted yes, Briston came back with a catalog to the Provo College. He urged me to take the nursing assistant degree just to make sure that’s what I really wanted. Provo was a good choice; it kept me close to home.

  A smile breaks out across my face as I finish watering the plants inside and head out back to finish up my chores. No matter how much I hate my classes, I am grateful for Briston and his attempts at keeping me happy. He truly is a great friend.

  My smile leaves me and is replaced by a dreaded sigh as I survey the shrubs and plants that line the house. Not only do they encompass the backyard but they stretch along the porch sides and wrap around to the front. I like the new walkway though. Mom told me about the project she and dad were working on a week before they left, but I didn’t have the time to check it out. They’ve really done a good job.

  The walkway stretches from the back of the house and around both sides of the porch, to lead to the front. There’s also a pathway with stepping-stones leading to the shed. Of course, all of this is adorned with plants on both sides. If there were a reality show called “Landscaping Obsession,” I would call them to put my mom on the show. Maybe this time on the road with dad will give her a new spark in life.

  I do know one thing, though. There is no way I’m using the watering can to water all these plants. I would have to fill the darn thing up a gazillion times before I was done! Following the stepping-stones, I head for the shed to get the water hose. I’m sure the small storage space is still lined with all my brother’s belongings. It was a sign my parents would never give up hope that he would return. After all he did, why they would want him to, is beyond me.

  I’m almost to the shed when my phone rings. It’s Briston. “Hey, what are you doing?”

  “Nothing. Did Braylee call you?”

  “Yeah. She wanted to know if we wanted to go hiking.” I’m sure he already knew that. If Briston’s asking about Braylee, it probably means
she called him.

  “Why didn’t you want to go?”

  I shrug my shoulder, “I don’t know. I’m watering mom’s plants right now and then I’m headed back to my place to get ready for work.” I kick around a rock, as I look down with sadness. I really do miss my friends. “Are you going?”

  “Nah. But man, when I told Braylee I was busy, she gave me an earful about being unfriendly, and yada, yada, Braylee stuff.” Despite Briston’s light tone, I sense that something’s up.

  “What’s the matter, Briston? And don’t you dare tell me ‘nothing.’ Remember who you’re talking to.” Briston always tried to downplay things that bothered him. I hate when he acts like everything is fine and that nothing can get to him. I know better.

  “I don’t really want to talk about it now. How about we meet up after you’re done with the gardening?” The weariness he seems to be caring bothers me. There is nothing in the world I wouldn’t do for Briston and to hear him sound so down brought me down with him.

  “Sure. Where?”

  “I’m actually headed up to Provo. Want to meet up at your place in an hour or so?”

  “Why are you going to Provo?” Just like everyone else in my life, Briston still lives here in Steely Hollow.

  “Got some stuff to take care of, and I wanted to stop by and say hi.”

  “Okay,” I say, a little weary by the evasive tone in his voice. “I’ll be there in an hour.” With any luck, I can find the hose right away and be done in about twenty minutes. My apartment is thirty minutes from here so I have time to make it.

  “Okay, see you in a bit.”

  I hang up the phone and place it in my pocket as my playlist switches and music comes streaming through once again. I wonder what’s up with Briston. When I talked to him last night everything seemed fine. We talked for hours about Braylee and her newest stunts, movies, and went back to some childhood memories. We laughed and talked for a good three hours, and during that time Briston never sounded upset. Well, maybe he did a little bit, right before we got off the phone. He said, ‘I miss my best friend being right down the street from me. We could be sitting out by Ruther’s pond watching the moon rise, instead of eating our minutes up like this.’

  I missed hanging out with Briston too, but I don’t think that is what has him so down. I hope his mom hasn’t fallen off the wagon again. It’s only been two weeks since she came home from rehab. Briston’s mom is a wonderful woman, who devotes as much time as she can to her family, that’s if she doesn’t have a whisky bottle glued to her hand. She’s been in and out of rehab for three years trying to get off of her binges. From past experience, now’s about the time the cycle starts again. No one really knows what drove Briston’s mom into drinking. She refuses to admit anything triggered the sudden addiction, but it had to be something. It was a mystery. It was a sudden change that happened after coming home from visiting her parents in Florida. I know her parents can be a little judgmental, but Briston doesn’t believe it has anything to do with them. I can only hope for Briston and his younger sister Tori’s sake that she finally releases whatever anger she’s holding onto that’s driving her to act this way, and finally beat the addiction.

  As I’m thinking about what could be troubling Briston, I flip through my keys to find the one for the shed. Finding it at last, I reach to grab the lock, but it’s gone. Looking down, I see the doorknob is missing. What the crap? I try pushing on the door but it’s jammed. I examine the door closely and see a bolt through the crack between some boards. Is someone inside? Maybe my dad’s fear of shovel stealing thugs isn’t so farfetched. Or is something worse than a crazy shed thief hiding behind the door? Panic floods my veins at the thought that my brother has returned. Did he come back because he knows mom and dad are gone? That would be convenient for him. Then he could take all he wanted and no one would be the wiser. Too bad I was going to ruin that opportunity for him.

  With everything I have, I start pushing against the door. The old rotten wood creaks against my weight, but it doesn’t give. I look around the yard, desperate to find something to help me break through. Seeing my saving grace, I walk over to analyze the two-foot-tall, solid concrete garden gnome my mom has setting by the back steps. The heavy little man should do the trick. It will probably get busted too, but I can buy mom another one. And if she doesn’t notice, hey, one less garden gnome.

  With my mind made up, I pick the gnome up, then quickly set it down again. I weigh around one twenty five, and sure, I have some muscle mass, but not enough to lug this heavy little sucker across the yard. I spot the wheelbarrow beside the shed, retrieve it, and heave the gnome over the side. It lands with a loud, metallic thud that echoes through the yard. I duck down. If my nosy neighbors happen to see me using a garden gnome as a battering ram, they will for sure call my parents. Especially Mrs. Porter, who is known for being in everyone’s business. Worse yet, if my brother is inside, I’ve probably alerted him with the racket I’m making.

  I rush back to the shed, lift the gnome out of the wheelbarrow and heave it against the door. The door caves in just a bit but—so does the long-bearded gnome’s red hat. I guess there’s no turning back now. If my brother is inside, he’s well aware someone’s trying to bust in. My shaky arms lift the gnome again and I bang it against the door until the lock inside breaks.

  The door swings in and bounces against the inside wall. I jump inside with a smirk on my face.

  “I caught you, you little twerp.” I focus on the figure on the bed, waiting to see my brother’s surprised face. But when the figure in the bed rolls over, I’m shocked to see that it’s not my brother. The person lying in his bed has bandages covering most of his body.

  I start to bolt for the door but I’m grabbed from behind. Whoever my attacker is has a death grip around my waist and shoulders, dragging me back into the dark corner of the shed, away from the light of the day.

  Chapter Six

  Emma

  I thrash from side to side, trying to break the hold my captor has on me. It does no good and seems to enrage her even more. I can tell it’s a girl from her small frame and bird-thin arms. How a girl with such a small body—smaller than mine from the feel—can have such a grip on me is mystifying. Her blonde dingy hair whips around in my face as she tries turning my head to one side.

  “Sabrina, no!” The boy occupying the bed tries sitting up. He is having a hard time rising. “Sabrina stop, now.”

  The girl pulls away from my neck and releases the hold she had on my head. She wraps her free hand back around my shoulders and continues to hold me. With one arm—this is annoying, how can she be so strong? It’s frightening too.

  “We can’t let her go. She’ll tell someone. I can’t move you in the daylight.”

  The boy has a disappointed look on his face as he regards the girl holding me. “We will not harm her. She has done nothing wrong. Let her go.” My captor tightens her hold on me, obviously not happy with that plan. I decide to try something.

  “Please, just let me go. If you do, I promise I won’t tell.” Ha, that’s a big fat lie. The first thing I’ll do is call the police. And I’m sure they know this and my effort is probably for nothing. Meanwhile, on another thought, what did she mean she couldn’t move him in the daylight?

  “Sabrina, I said let her go.” The boy is staring down the girl. “Remember what you told me Sabrina. You said you knew that you had the right and will to make your own choices. That you didn’t want to embark down the road of evil that you were set upon. If you harm this girl, then you have stepped back on that path.” The girl—Sabrina—is quiet for a moment. I’m hoping the boy got through to her. Another plea sits ready on my tongue but I bite it back. If he got through to her, I might ruin it by saying something.

  She loosens her hold and pushes me away. Her shove is so hard that I stumble over my own feet and land on my butt. I scoot to the door, taking in crisp cold gulps of air. My heart is racing from the terror I just faced. I stand up and the bo
y calls out to me. I’m ready to bolt, but there’s something so compelling in the boy’s voice—such sincerity—I can’t help but stop.

  “Please, wait. I’m sorry for her behavior. We mean you no harm.” He extends his hand with a small hopeful smile. “My name is Kayson.” The girl tenses when he says his name. She looks at him with astonishment, which turns into a hateful glare when she looks at me.

  “Okay, I don’t know what’s going on here or why you broke into my parent’s shed but—”

  “Are you blind? He is injured. We only sought shelter here so he could rest.” Sabrina points out Kayson’s injured body as she looks at me like I’m stupid.

  I arch an eyebrow back. “Well, Miss Thoughtfulness, if you are the one taking care of him, why didn’t you seek proper medical attention? That would seem like a smart decision to me.”

  “Stupid girl,” Sabrina fires at me with venom. “We cannot go to a human doctor. They wouldn’t know the first thing about healing a fallen angel.”

  “Sabrina.” Kayson cuts Sabrina a warning look, like she’s gone too far.

  As if I could fall for such a ridiculous story. I burst out laughing. “A what? A fallen angel?” I regain myself just a bit and try mustering up Braylee’s legendary cockiness. “And what would that make you, the devil?”

  “No but I was created from one of his blood children.”

  Laughs bubble from my chest so hard I have to grab the door frame for support. I’m still a little freaked out by their invasion, but this sordid tale has me losing my alert edge. Was this girl for real? Looking at her serious yet confused face makes me laugh even harder. “Why do you find this so funny?” Sabrina asks, confused.