The Flawed Heart Series

by Wade, Ellie

I always believed that they were out there, fighting to rescue me, but the witch is right. No one is coming. No one is going to save me. Love is a joke, and London’s a lie.

  The only person I have looking out for me in this world is me. I’m furious that it took this evil person before me to tell me with such bluntness before I got it, but I hear it loud and clear now.

  She’s totally right. They’re not coming for me. They never were. The only two people left on this earth who were supposed to love me have left me completely alone.

  I have no one.

  I haven’t had anyone for a long time.

  My heart shatters beneath my aching chest. I can’t believe I never saw my reality for what it was. I suppose I had to believe—at least when I was younger—so I would have the strength to get through each horrible day. Maybe my mind is finally ready to accept the truth because I’m old enough now.

  I don’t need to suffer in these homes until I’m rescued. I need to save myself.

  Complete clarity envelops me. For the first time since I stepped foot in Dwight and Stacey’s home when I was seven years old, I have control—or at least, I will.

  I don’t bother to say anything else to Bev as I step around her and march to my makeshift bedroom, which also houses the thirty-year-old washer and dryer. I shoot a quick glance behind me to see if anyone followed me. I’m relieved when I see that no one is there. It wouldn’t have mattered, but it just makes things easier.

  Before reaching my sleeping space, I duck into Sarah’s room. “Hey,” I whisper.

  Startled, Sarah whips her head up from the book she’s reading. Her long, curly strawberry-blonde hair swooshes over her shoulders, and her big blue eyes are open wide.

  “I’m leaving. Come with me.”

  I don’t know why I’m including Sarah in my plans. I need to focus on myself. But something deep in my gut tells me not to leave her here. This place is slowly killing her. I barely know her, but I know that much.

  “I…I can’t.” She shakes her head.

  “Look, I don’t really have a plan, but we’ll figure it out. I don’t want to leave you here, alone…with Carl.”

  Her body visibly shudders when I say his name.

  “Please come with me. I won’t hurt you. Grab a bag. Pack the essentials—clothes, toiletries, your personal stuff, a jacket, and maybe a blanket, if you can fit it. Just get what you can carry. We’re leaving in ten minutes.”

  She stands, and I exit her room before heading to mine.

  This is insane. My behavior is completely reckless, yet this is the happiest I’ve been in a long time. Hope grows in my chest, and it’s not of the delusional variety. I’m taking control of my life, and regardless of what happens when I leave this house, it will be of my doing. Who knows? Maybe I’ll starve to death. But who freaking cares? It will be because of my actions and no one else’s.

  I feel a wave of caution come over me as I think about the fact that I’m involving Sarah in my rebellion. But then I realize that she’d probably rather starve to death than stay here with Carl any day.

  I’ve packed up all my belongings into a backpack and my duffel bag. I’ve even managed to swipe a blanket and pillow. Something tells me that I’m going to be glad I did.

  In the bathroom, I find several unopened toothbrushes, a brand-new tube of toothpaste, deodorant, and shampoo, so I take them, too. I have no idea what I’m doing, but I’m trying to think of things that I’ll want the most while homeless. I realize that food will probably be at the top of that list, but I know that good old Bev isn’t going to let me raid her pantry when I leave, so I’ll have to figure out the food issue later.

  When I pack everything that I think I need—at least the items I have access to—I meet Sarah in her room.

  “You ready?” I say in a low voice.

  She looks terrified, but she nods her head.

  “I got some bathroom things, but did you grab stuff that you’ll need, like a brush or something?” I have no idea what goes into being a girl, but looking at Sarah’s hair, I know a brush must be involved.

  She nods again.

  She’s so sweet. I hardly know her, but I feel like it’s my duty to protect her. I think that involves being honest.

  “Look, I don’t know if I mentioned this before, but when we leave, we’re probably going to be homeless.” I think that seems important to mention.

  The corners of her lips turn up slightly, and if I’m not mistaken, for Sarah, that’s like a smile.

  “I know,” she answers quietly.

  “And you still want to come?” I decide to give her an out.

  She nods once more.

  “And you packed everything you think you’ll need for a life on the street?” Okay, I admit I’m being a bit dramatic.

  For all I know, we’ll be picked up by the police before we get a mile away. But the mere chance that we won’t is so exciting.

  “Yeah, I think so,” she answers.

  “You know, I know we’ve only known each other for two days and all, but I sense a lot of trust growing here,” I kid.

  I actually joke, and she giggles softly, which leads me to one of my ultimate goals in life. I will make Sarah I’ll-Ask-Her-About-Her-Last-Name-Later laugh at least a few times per day. I’m liking this new version of me.

  I stretch out my free hand, and Sarah grabs it. The two of us walk toward the front of the house. As we get closer to the living room, she squeezes my hand. I squeeze hers back, trying to reassure her that she’ll be okay. I am not leaving this place without her.

  “What do you two think you are doing?” Bev shrieks over the TV.

  “We’re leaving,” I say firmly.

  Bev cackles. “And where do you think you’re going?”

  “Doesn’t matter. Not here.”

  “You aren’t going anywhere!” she yells.

  I ignore her and continue to walk toward the door.

  “You stop right there, you little shit.” Carl’s voice booms from behind me.

  I turn to watch him lifting his fat ass out of the chair.

  “You can leave all you want, but you’re not taking her with you.” He storms toward Sarah.

  I feel her quiver beside me.

  I let go of her hand and step in front of her. “If you touch her, I will kill you.”

  My threat doesn’t faze him, and he continues toward us. I’ve recently grown a lot, but Carl is still bigger than me. I might be able to take him though. He’s pretty out of shape. I decide to play it safe, and the second he’s close enough, I swing my leg back and kick him between the legs with every ounce of strength I have. He immediately falls to his knees with a howl of pain.

  “Stop!” Bev screams, charging toward us.

  I raise my fist like I’m going to punch her, and she stops.

  Her eyes bulge, and she breathes heavily. “You are such a worthless piece of shit,” she spits out.

  “Fuck you. This piece of shit is already so much more than you’ll ever be. And you’d better tell your husband to keep his dick in his pants. I will be watching you. If I find out that he’s hurt another girl, even once, I will murder you both while you’re asleep, and I will make sure you suffer,” I say in the evilest voice I can muster.

  It must do the trick because her eyes go wide with fear.

  With this, I grab Sarah’s hand, and we run out of the house. I’ve never said so many swear words out loud in my life, and it’s so invigorating. I totally lied to Bev. I don’t plan on ever coming within thirty miles of this place again, nor could I ever kill anyone, but I hope I was convincing. I hope I scared her enough to have a serious talk with her child-molester husband.

  Sarah and I run, hand in hand, until our chests ache, and our lungs burn. Finally, after what seems like miles, we stop. We stare at each other, wide-eyed, and I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that we are a little scared. But when our gazes meet, we bust out in sidesplitting laughter. The two of us laugh until we have tears streaming down our
faces.

  Eventually, just like we ran ourselves out, we’ve laughed ourselves out.

  Sarah holds up her fist and says in a low voice full of mirth, “I will kill you.”

  She sounds more like Arnold Schwarzenegger as the Terminator than she does me, but it brings a genuine smile to my face.

  “What? I didn’t have you convinced?”

  “No, but I think they kinda believed you. That’s all that really matters.” She shrugs.

  “True.” I smile at this girl in front of me.

  Already, she’s so different. It’s very strange what a little bit of hope and control can do for a person.

  I understand what it feels like because that same surge of optimism is blooming within my chest, too. I know that Bev’s words and my subsequent realization about my life will come back to haunt me. I don’t know how to get over that type of abandonment and loss. But, for now, I’m not going to mourn it. Instead, I’m going to let this newfound sensation of empowerment engulf me and carry me along for as long as it can.

  For the first time in eight years, the smile on my face is genuine.

  “Well, I think we should get a little farther away and then maybe find somewhere to sleep. That’s what homeless people do, right?”

  “I guess so.” She giggles.

  We walk at a leisurely pace now.

  “Sarah, what’s your last name?”

  “Why?” she wonders sweetly.

  “I was just thinking about it earlier, and I was curious.”

  “It doesn’t matter what my last name was. It isn’t one I plan on keeping, that’s for sure. What’s yours?”

  “Berkeley.”

  “Did you have nice parents at some point?” she questions.

  “The best,” I admit sadly.

  She thinks for a moment and nods her head. “My last name can be Berkeley then.”

  “Sounds good to me.” I chuckle. “You can be like my sister.”

  “I like that.” She nods. “I just hope they don’t find me.” Sadness returns to her voice.

  I have a feeling that they is a lot more people than just Bev and Carl, but it’s not important because I will keep Sarah safe. “They won’t. No one will.”

  “Promise?”

  “I promise.”

  I make a silent vow to always protect Sarah. No one stepped up to the plate to save me after my parents died, but I don’t need anyone to protect me now. I have myself. But Sarah’s fragile. She was close to breaking, and she’s already improving. The sensation that comes along with knowing that I had a small part in healing a piece of her heart feels better than any sensation I can remember.

  It feels a little like love.

  London

  “Loïc is and will forever be the only fish in my sea. If I can’t have him, then I don’t want another.”

  —London Wright

  “The grass isn’t always greener on the other side, chica.” Paige provides her words of advice.

  The two of us are lounging on my bed, each with a pint of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream sitting on our shelves—also known as our boobs. Yes, we’re dressed. My T-shirt-clad breasts provide the perfect place to place the fattiest flavor of ice cream I could find, which happens to be Chubby Hubby. My ultimate goal is to eat as much as I can, become extremely obese, and cry myself to sleep for the rest of my life until I die. At which point, I will have died sad, alone, and fat with hairy legs because I wouldn’t have seen the point of showering either.

  My mom always said I had a flair for the dramatic. She might have a point.

  “You know, I think your advice actually has merit this time.”

  “Really?” Paige asks excitedly.

  “I mean, given another boy or breakup, then, yes, that saying would work. But, unfortunately, it doesn’t work for this scenario because Loïc is the one, Paige. I know it. The grass will always be greener where he is.”

  “I’m just trying to help you, so please don’t get mad at me.”

  I eye her with an accusing stare.

  “Stop. You know you get mad at me if you hate my advice, and it usually ends with, ‘I hate you.’ Then, you apologize and say that you don’t.”

  “Okay, you might be right. I promise not to get mad. Continue.” I wave my hand in the air.

  “I guess I’m just wondering why you’re so upset over this dude. Sure, he’s fucking hot. I get it. He’s nice enough, I guess. But the baggage? Apparently, he has a seven forty-seven full of it. Who wants to deal with that?”

  “I do,” I whine in protest. “I want it all.”

  “Why, babe? You barely know him. You haven’t even gone all the way. I mean, I could see if you had been careless and gotten knocked up, then you would put some effort into making it work with your baby daddy. But, unless you’re secretly with child and not telling me, I can’t understand why you’re so down about this one. He’s just a guy. There are plenty more where he came from. There are other fish in the sea.”

  “First, I have to say, once again, that saying would be appropriate here, given it were another guy. So, kudos to you. I’m impressed. But Loïc is and will forever be the only fish in my sea. If I can’t have him, then I don’t want another. And, secondly, I hate you.”

  “London!” Paige smacks my arm with her hand.

  “Stop, Paige!” I laugh. “You’re going to make me spill my Chubby Hubby, and this might be the only hubby I get in life.”

  “You’re so ridiculous.”

  “I know. I can’t help it. But, seriously, I might love him, Paige. I would never tell him that because he would totally freak out. But he’s unlike any guy I’ve been with. It’s so hard to explain, and the entire thing sounds cheesy…like I’m pulling it from a Disney movie. But, when I’m with him, I just know. He needs me. We’re perfect together. He simply has to get his head out of his ass and see it.”

  “All right, girlfriend, I’m stopping you right there. You do not love him,” she says with a huff. “I don’t know if you even like him. From what you’ve told me, he sounds like a mess who doesn’t know which way is up. Isn’t your head spinning? ’Cause mine sure is, like a teeter-totter.”

  “Teeter-totters don’t spin.”

  “Okay, like a freight train on full speed,” she says dramatically.

  “Nope, still no spinning involved,” I say with a straight face, trying not to laugh.

  “A merry-go-round?”

  “Yeah, that would work. Or maybe one of those spinny-top things,” I offer.

  “Okay, fine. So, my head is spinning like a merry-go-round from this shit. Isn’t yours?”

  I sigh. “I’m sorry; you lost me at freight train.”

  We both burst out in a fit of laughter, and it feels good. There’s nothing better than laughing with your best friend until your sides ache.

  Our laughter finally ceases, and I wipe my eyes.

  Paige says, “My entire point, before you had to split hairs, is that you don’t love him. You’re obsessed with him because you can’t have him. You think about him nonstop because he doesn’t want you. His rejection is making you crazy. You, London, do not like being told no. That’s what this whole thing is about.”

  I take a minute to think about her words. “Maybe you’re right. Rejection sucks.”

  “Yeah, it does.”

  “So, how do I get someone who doesn’t want me?”

  Paige thumps the heel of her hand against her forehead. “Oh my God, I might as well be talking to a wall.”

  “Whatever.” I don’t feed into her dramatics. “Just tell me what to do.”

  “I don’t have any more advice for you,” Paige says in a resigned tone. “This whole thing is out of my advice realm.”

  “You can’t be out of advice. I need it,” I protest.

  “I gave you mine, remember? I said, charter a plane without so much baggage. But, no, you want the baggage. I said, stop going after someone who doesn’t want you back. But, no, you don’t want to listen to that eith
er. So, I’ve got nothing for ya. He’s special…blah, blah, blah. Then, get him back, I guess.”

  I point my index finger toward her. “There are no blah, blah, blahs allowed in giving advice, but I think you’re right.” I pause and nod my head for effect. “I’m getting my man back!” I yell, lifting my spoon in the air in triumph. “London Wright does not back down from a challenge.”

  “Exactly! And we know London Wright’s serious when she starts speaking in third person!” Paige cheers along beside me. “But before you go and hijack that seven forty-seven of hotness, can we please finish watching season five of Downton Abbey? We’re so behind. I need to know what Edith is going to do with the baby, and then we need to move on to the final season. Paige McAllister has needs, too, and they’re all going to come from that magic box right there.” She points dramatically to my flat screen TV hanging on the wall at the foot of my bed. “And since my needs are more accessible than yours at the moment, I think I win.”

  “That’s fine,” I sigh. “You know these things take planning anyway. It hasn’t even been a week yet. I’m going to give the boy at least a week to come to his senses, a chance to come back begging. But, if he doesn’t, then game on.”

  “That’s my girl!” she says with enthusiasm as she grabs the remote. “Now, which episode were we on?” she asks herself as she scrolls through the menu.

  My tummy is about to explode from ice cream overload, so I set the pint down on my bedside table. Besides, I no longer want to become obese and die. Instead, I want Loïc back, and I’m going to fight to get him. He might not know what he wants, but I do.

  An extremely happy and lively version of my sister fills up my laptop screen as she adamantly tells me of her latest adventure. I haven’t physically spoken to Georgia in a month. All our communication has been over social media or text, so it is so great to see her and hear her voice.

  It could be the color settings of my computer screen, but she looks so tan. I’ve never seen her with truly bronzed skin.

  Georgia and I are opposites in almost every way. Where my skin darkens after just a few minutes in the sun, hers is pale, burning more than it tans. She has long blonde hair, opposite to my brown. She even has these brilliant blue eyes, which are in complete contrast to my brown ones. She looks nothing like me or my parents. Apparently, my dad’s mother was pale-skinned with blonde hair and blue eyes. Georgia has always stood out at family events, oftentimes being the only blonde in the room. When she was little, she was like this little cherub with rosy cheeks and blonde ringlets. She always seems to be the center of attention—not because she is necessarily more beautiful than anyone else, but because she’s different. She stands out wherever she goes with her angel-like appearance and exuberant personality.