Falling to Pieces
© Leddy Harper
All Rights Reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locals is entirely coincidental.
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Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Epilogue
Leddy's Notes
Coming Soon - Sneek Peak
Hey You!
More from Leddy
Contact Leddy
For the Reader
For my sophomore English teacher…
You believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself.
You pushed me to be better than a “regular” student.
You may not remember me, but I’ll never forget you.
Present day
Six hundred days sober. That’s a feat worth celebrating.
So why am I sitting alone in a dark field with my back against a tree? That’s a good question. Maybe I was looking for something I couldn’t define. Maybe—even though I had gotten my life back on track—I was still lost. It didn’t seem to matter how many days I’d been sober, or how hard I fought to rein in my life, there would always be a part of me that remained fucked up. A part of me that I’d never be able to reclaim. But I was learning to accept that. I had to be okay with it. I couldn’t dwell on the past anymore. It had landed me in enough trouble, gotten me too far off the beaten path. I had to persevere and keep my focus on what’s in front of me.
Although, it did become increasingly hard to fix my gaze on the path ahead of me, because a woman followed me every night when I came to this quiet space of land. Well, not followed me, she just happened to always be here. She’d come long after I’d arrive, and then I’d sneak off into the trees before she left. What made me watch her, though, was the sadness that exuded from her. I never got close enough to see her face clearly, but her slumped shoulders and shuffling feet were enough to signify her constant gloom. We never spoke, never even caught each other’s gazes. In fact, I’m quite certain she never even knew I was there. I remained hidden in the shadows while she perched herself on the end of the rickety dock, letting her feet dangle in the dark pool of water beneath her.
She fascinated me, but I couldn’t tell you why. I had no idea. I didn’t even truly know what she looked like, considering I’d never allowed myself to get that close to her. I’d become nothing more than a spectator to what I presumed was her sad, pathetic life, a life that somehow led her to this desolate place. I knew because feelings of loss had led me here, too. At least she sat out in the open. I was too much of a coward to do that.
I sensed a connection to her. A small, distant connection to a stranger, yet it felt as if we were kindred spirits or something. I couldn’t describe what it was that touched my soul so deeply when I studied her. All I knew was that I couldn’t stop watching her, and it didn’t take long before I began looking forward to the nights I could make it down here to see her. I’d learned her schedule early on. I knew it by heart. She only came to the lake in the middle of the field four nights a week—Tuesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. So I made it a point to be here those times, too.
This night unfolded no differently than the others. I followed the same pattern as I always did. I sat against the tree, letting the shade hide me from view, and examined her as she made it through the tall, willowy grass. She wore a short dress that blew in the breeze like clothing on a hanging line. It appeared to be white, but color could be very deceiving this time of night. The moon hung big and bright, not a cloud in the sky to conceal it, and it projected a white glow over the entire field, shining off the lake’s eerily still water. It lit her up perfectly, making her look like a fallen angel. A devastated, soul-shattered angel.
I knew her routine like the back of my hand and could’ve closed my eyes and seen the entire thing, but she captivated me and I enjoyed watching it instead. However, this night, she did something different. Normally, she’d pull off her brown cowboy boots and set them down on the warped dock before sitting on the edge. But this time, she walked all the way to the end and stared off into the distance. She held her head back, threw her arms out, and just stood there.
My focus zeroed in on her. It caught my attention, because for the last six weeks, I’d never seen her do anything like this. She dropped her arms to her sides, bowed her head, and her shoulders slumped. I sat forward on alert, trying to get a better look. I already assumed she was a lost—and more than likely sad—girl, but this only proved to drive that point home.
Before I could fully acknowledge what she was doing, her clothed body fell forward, diving into the lake. I jumped to my feet, not having a clue as to what to do. I knew the water had to be cold at night. I’d fished in it plenty of times to know. And I also knew how deep it was at the end of that tiny, unstable dock. Just past the grass that led into the water, a shelf lurked beneath the surface, and beyond that, nothing but deep water—at least fifteen feet. You’d have to be an idiot to jump in at nighttime wearing all your clothes and having no one to help you out of it. I knew enough to assume that she wasn’t just going for a swim.
My feet instinctively carried me through the damp grass, toward the wooden path to the dock. Time froze, every step slower than the last, and all nature’s sounds dissipated, leaving only a high-pitched buzzing in my ears. I couldn’t get to her fast enough. My steps grew heavy. It was as if I became entrenched in quicksand. Time ticked by as my mind frantically fought its way out of a tunnel with no light at the end. I had to save this girl. I had to get her out of the water.
I kept my eyes on the surface of the lake, waiting and watching for her head to reappear, but it never did, which only increased my panicked state. And then I finally found myself at the edge of the wooden dock, my eyes desperately trying to find her. My breaths came in pants, unable to draw in a deep enough lungful of air. I knew if I dove in after her, I wouldn’t be able to stay under long before coming back up, needing to catch my breath again. But I didn’t care. I jumped in, frantically feeling around in the dark, cold water for her.