Growing up, I was always taught to see the good in people and to treat everyone the same, like each person was this wonderful being created by God. Look for the positive instead of the negative, my grandma always used to say to me. Seeing the good in people was something I’d always admired about myself growing up. For the most part, I was a happy child, always finding ways to do good. Then everything changed. Shawn left me and I experienced heartbreak for the very first time. You see, losing someone you loved because you continued to see the good in them, even though you knew there was a darkness hidden in the very depths of their soul, wasn’t something you got over. Not ever.

Now I didn’t see the good in anyone. I was constantly aware of just how much people were capable of hurting you, of the darkness they held inside of them. I guess you could go as far as to say I was a much wiser person now. I saw the beauty in people, sure. But I also saw the ugly side to them that they tried desperately to hide. The stuff that people, like my parents, chose not to see. Maybe because of fear? Fear of public perception or the knowledge of knowing that once they discovered something new, something dark, nothing would ever be the same way again. Who knew? All I knew was that as a kid, I’d idolised my brother Shawn. In my young, naïve eyes, he could do no wrong, and like my parents, I had chosen to turn a blind eye to the truth—the bad stuff that surrounded his very soul, turning him into someone I barely even recognised. After all, we lived in Winslow, and drug addicts didn’t exist in Winslow. Scum that sought euphoria from the inside of a baggy rotted on the outskirts of town where crime, prostitution and getting high were common. Except, now I knew different.

Shawn had been loved by our community. He’d helped old ladies cross the street and was always willing to lend a hand to anyone else in need, even if that meant sweating like a pig during the summer holidays whilst he mowed the neighbour’s lawn. He’d do it. He was athletic and fit, participating in all sports activities, with football standing strong as his main passion. Typical. He rarely had any enemies, either. He had always been a good kid, but as the son of James Livingston, the town mayor, Shawn Livingston could do no wrong in the eyes of the community. A community that looked down their noses on the less fortunate and turned their backs on you quicker than you could say guilty.

My parents failed Shawn. They didn’t seek help for him because they feared being alienated from this community of ours, and I refused to acknowledge his drug addiction from fear of losing him. When my parents finally did right by Shawn and checked him into an expensive facility a few miles away from Winslow, it was way too late. He was too far gone.

If only they’d known that their actions—or lack of—would cost them both their children.

Shawn had just been released from the army when I first started noticing the changes in him. His erratic behaviour was unusual, and at first, I simply put it down to him adjusting back to normal life away from the army. But as time went on, I began to question what was really wrong with him. He was constantly on edge. I didn’t know much about drugs at that time so it never occurred to me that he could be hooked on something. If it hadn’t of been for Aubrie calling me one night, I might never have known. She was at a house party of a mutual friend and Shawn was there. She knew something was off immediately—he’d been so off of his face he hadn’t even tried to hide what he was doing.

At first, I convinced myself that Brie must have gotten the wrong idea. Shawn wouldn’t do that. I was too afraid to confront him, so I kept it to myself, hoping that Brie had, indeed, been wrong. Only it wasn’t long before I learned that I was the wrong one.

Some weekends, Shawn never came home. Other times he wouldn’t leave his room. Family dinners had always been fun growing up. He and I would fool around at the dining table while my parents complained that we were making too much noise, then we’d all fall into conversation about school and whether we had any homework that needed to be done that night. Shawn would always say no, that he’d already finished it. I knew different, though. As soon as dinner was over, he would leg it round to his friend Joel’s house and have him do it for him. But those fun, lively family dinners became something of the past as Shawn’s presence became non-existent. I would sit in silence, afraid to ask the questions that raced around my young mind. Where was Shawn? Was he okay? Would he be joining us for dinner? If he came home, would he be my brother, or the new version I didn’t like so much? My parents would also be sat in silence, my dad frowning at the empty place setting at the dining table, wishing for the noise that once flowed around the room. The rare occasions that Shawn decided to come home it was as if he wasn’t really there at all. He didn’t speak unless he absolutely had to, and the only noise that came from his mouth was the tail end of a deep groan. I knew that sitting at the dining table with his family was the last thing he wanted to do. I knew it and my parents knew it. But they never said anything. At least not while I was in the same room. When they thought I was out of earshot, I would hide on the stairs and listen in while they argued. Mostly they argued about money, but if things had gotten particularly heated, my father would bring up the drugs. Shawn denied he was using, and although we wanted to believe him, we knew he had a problem.

It started with lies, then the drastic change in his appearance. The lack of cleanliness of his clothes, and those dark circles framing his red, bloodshot eyes. Towards the end, those eyes became vacant ones. Those were the things that got to me the most. The empty stare that haunted my sleep even to this day. Emptiness. Lifeless. The weight started shifting dramatically after that, his appetite decreasing as he struggled to keep even fluids down. Even seeing, knowing all of this, we continued to hope that his addiction would go away.

It didn’t. But Shawn did.

And soon after, my parents did, too. At least emotionally, anyway.

With Aubrie Harrison, my only true friend, nowhere to be seen and Shawn gone entirely, I had no one. I had no one to cling on to when I felt like following right behind him. No one by my side when I fought for air as my whole world was caving in on me. The only true friend I had on Earth, the one I knew was capable of saving me from the darkness that I had found myself in, had gone. Aubrie had deserted me when I needed her the most, without so much as a goodbye. One moment she was there. The next, she wasn’t. Much like Shawn.

Faced with the realisation that no one could be trusted, I learned quickly that I didn’t need anyone in my life and I would treat others how they treated me. I wouldn’t love again. No, I wouldn’t put myself in a position that could so easily end me. I would take life at face value. It was worthless, cold and dark. There was no happiness and nothing worth clinging on for.

I came close once, though. So close to breaking my own rule. Close to descending on my own journey to heartache and abandonment. Again.

The first time I caught a glimpse of him was at the sweet tender age of fifteen, when life had been relatively normal for me. It was at the annual garden party my parents had thrown that my life started to change, and I began to realise that boys were about to play a huge factor in my life. He had gone with his parents and cousin who looked around the same age as him. My father called them friends, but I knew different. My father didn’t make friends with anybody. He used them for his own benefit and kept them within reaching distance until he no longer needed their services. They weren’t his friends. Acquaintances maybe. Friends? No.

I dreaded the event. Every year seemed to be worse than the last, except that one. The second I saw him slump through the door, hands fisted in his jeans pockets, clearly not where he wanted to be, my eyes lit up like fireworks and my heart thumped wildly in my chest. It was a feeling I hadn’t recognised before, and when his eyes met mine for the briefest of seconds, I knew right there and then that he was the one. He looked rough, like he was ready to fight someone if they so much as spared a glance his way. His dark brown hair was ruffled to one side and his eyes held a daring sparkle to them. I knew he was trouble, even back then, and I had never been more excited. But that was all just a fairytale I’d made up in my head because I never saw that brown-eyed boy again. Not until a few years later. On my first day at college, to be precise. Yes, my first day at Winslow Falls was one I could never forget, even if I had wanted to. It was when I got my the third of my four life lessons which would stay with me forever. Yeah, I know. Foolish, right? You would’ve thought that I’d had at least learned my lesson the first time. I should’ve had that shit down. But I had my reasons. And that boy was one of them.

Taylor Lawson.

The one that made my heart spring to life again when I was sure it was no longer functioning. The one I hoped would erase the heartbreak Shawn and Aubrie had created and make me feel something again. Taylor Lawson wasn’t worthy of my love, though. He wanted something from me that would never be enough. And I wanted from him what he could never give me: his heart. That sense of belonging… I had wanted him to need me so badly that I became so caught up in a fantasy that wasn’t real. It was a stupid notion that had been diminished last year when my actions almost destroyed his heart, and at the same time, sealed my fate in our town forever.

I wasn’t all to blame, though. Taylor had used me, just like Shawn said he would. Like he said all men would. When I’d mentioned Taylor to Shawn, he’d seemed worried and tried to warn me off the boy that I couldn’t stop thinking about. I didn’t get why Shawn was telling me those things at the time. I’d barely even noticed boys back then. I wasn’t even aware that Shawn knew Taylor, but he seemed to dislike him all the same. “Kid, don’t fool yourself into believing he can be different. When he tells you you’re beautiful, it’s not because he means it. Not really. And if he tells you he loves you, run. He will only ever love the idea of what you can give him. You deserve more. You are worth more. Don't ever settle for anything less than what your heart wants.” Words he continued to remind of long before he left for the army, and again, once he returned.

Even out of it, Shawn talked sense.

He had been right, though. If I had a pound for every time a guy had declared their love for me or told me how special I was, I would be as rich as my parents. But it wasn't love they felt. Nor was it attraction. It was need. A need they could and would get from any other girl.

There was one other guy that came just as close. One who I thought could actually be capable of caring for me the way I needed him to. One I considered changing the way I saw the world for. The one who wore his heart on his sleeve and saw the good in everyone—in me. One I had convinced myself was different from all the others until he proved to me that there really wasn’t a single person in the world that could be trusted, even if your heart wanted to feel differently.

I wasn’t sure why I had expected anything else. They were brothers, after all. Their father, a prime example of what loving someone can do to you. Lies, deceit, everything that was wrong in the world, these men shared. And I had experienced first-hand what these men were capable of doing to a girl.

I sighed and glanced around the room, taking in the faded, navy blue walls that surrounded me. The concert posters that took up most of one wall had seen better days. The torn edges had been lovingly taped together at least twice. The PlayStation still sat in the exact spot, unused for years but that hadn’t stopped Mum from dusting it. The chip on the door made me smile, and memories that had long since been forgotten came flooding back to me.

“Wait for me,” I yelled, my thumb eagerly tapping away on the black button to make it go faster. As I jumped from hilltop to hilltop, my hands jerked from left to right, up and down, I manoeuvred the little red mushroom across the screen. But still, Mario raced ahead of me.

I blew out a frustrated breath as I, once again, pushed down on the black button. I was too late. My mushroom dived into the deep, black hole as Mario continued on his merry way.

With no lives left, I sighed and let my shoulders relax in defeat.

Shawn shook his head and laughed. “Every time.”

“You cheat.”

“Admit it… I’m the best.” He grinned.

“Never!” I yelled even louder. I felt tears brimming my eyelids and fought to hold them back. I didn’t want him to see me cry. He’d think I was a baby and wasn’t. I was bigger now.

“I told you you couldn’t keep up with me. I don’t know why you continue to try. Why don’t you go find that annoying friend of yours and play Darby and Ben?” he goaded.

“It’s Barbie and Ken, loser, and anyway, I don’t even play with them anymore.” I huffed.

“Baby.”

“Am not!” I shouted. My arms flew out to the side in frustration, and just as they did, so did the controller. It flew from my grasp before I could even blink and landed against the bedroom door with a loud thud.

“Shit!” Shawn swore. “Look what you’ve done now.”

Shawn jumped from the bed and knelt down on the floor, examining the black controller that was now in pieces before him.

I was going to be in so much trouble. I knew it. Even if Shawn wouldn't tell Mum—which he would—Alice, the old lady who sometimes came to clean the house and cook us tea most definitely would.

My bottom lip trembled, and this time the tears did flow. I couldn’t stop them.

“What in God’s name is going on in here?” Mum asked as she came barrelling through the door, nearly hitting Shawn as it swung wide open.

“I’m sorry, I…” I stammered.

“What happened to this door?” She gasped, looking between the door and where Shawn was knelt holding pieces of the controller.

Shawn and I exchanged glances, our eyes slowly moving to the dent in the freshly painted door, having not noticed it before.

Shawn lifted a hand and scratched the back of his neck. “Eh… yeah, sorry. That was my fault, Mum. I got a little too excited. Lost my grip of the controller.”

My mouth fell open in shock and admiration. He had stuck up for me. He had never done that before. Not ever. He usually blamed me for the things I didn’t even do. Now he was taking the blame for me.

“Okay, well, don’t mention this to your father. He won’t think twice about taking that console back.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Shawn said.

And that was that. It was the first of the many times that my brother took the flack for me. That was the day I became more than just Shawn’s annoying sister. I became his friend. His best friend.

“Get out.”

I had been so lost in my own thoughts that I hadn’t realised that I was no longer alone.

I shuffled to a seated position and scrambled from the warmth of the bed. “Mum, I was just…”

“Out,” she repeated in an even tone that forced me to shrink back into my own skin. Her hair was rustled into a heap on the top of her head, and she was still wearing her ivory nightdress. Her eyes were darkly rimmed as though she hadn't slept.

“I’m so sorry, I was…”

“I said get out. I’ve told you before about coming into this room. You are not to come into this room ever again, do you hear me? It’s not yours,” she rushed out and hurried to the bed I’d fallen asleep in last night.

I hadn’t meant to fall asleep in there. I hadn’t even planned on coming back to the house at all, but after seeing Jake again I… well, I guess I just needed the warmth I had felt as I crawled onto the double bed, shuffled under the dark blue covers and pulled them up to my chin. I only ever felt calm here. In this room.

Shawn’s room.

I backed up into the doorway as I watched Mum hurry to straighten up the blankets, smoothing them out flat. She didn’t even look my way. Not even after she’d finished making the bed appear as though it had never been slept in. She just stood there, still as the night, gazing down at nothing with that same vacant, lost look in her eyes that reminded me of my brother’s last days.

I frowned, much like I always did, and left to go and get ready for work. We had a big delivery due in that I needed to take care of, and I wanted to finish the dress I had been working on before I went to work.