Broken

By Rita Michaels

Jessica Hanes’ life crumbles down the day her mother dies of a drug overdose. With no knowledge of a close relative, she is shuffled from one foster home to another. Her life is far from being happy, or stable. She is broken.

She yearns for a real family and a lovely home, and warms up to her new adoptive mother’s brother, who treats her like his little sister, but she is in for a surprise when she realizes he has a hidden agenda against her.

She refuses to be a rape victim and takes an instinctive action against her aggressor. There is blood on her hands. She is on the run, but where can she hide?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rita Michaels
• Release date: Aug 28, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311322173

Rita Michaels

Rita Michaels enjoys writing inspiring stories from real life experiences that touch the heart. While not marrying pen to paper, and running after her overactive kids, she wanders in her thought; creating the next story in abstract.

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BROKEN

RITA MICHAELS

COPYRIGHT

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, and a part of the incidents were the product of the author’s imagination, or they were used fictitiously. Places are real, and the events are factual. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2013 Rita Michaels

All rights reserved.

Smashwords Edition

http://www.ritamichaels.com

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

DEDICATION

Once again, for my husband, Michael, and my children, Raphael and Rachael.

EPIGRAPH

2 Corinthians 4:8-9

We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed.

1

San Jose, California.

Jessica Hanes wrapped her arms around her only known family member, tears cascading down her oval-shaped face onto her mother’s lifeless body. She had jolted the body for as long as her strength could support. Stifled sounds escaped her tiny, pursed lips, her face drenched in tears, her heart pounding against her chest-- faster than usual.

The blaring ambulance siren interrupted the hush of the young-day; the sound growing louder as it bordered on its destination. Jessica held tightly to her mother, it would be the last physical contact she would have with her forever.

A loud knock on the door, followed by another, disengaged her from the entanglement. She dragged her heavy feet to the door, fumbled with the lock, and wiped off blinding tears from her eyes before pulling the door open to the male and female paramedics.

One look at the teary-eyed, seven-year-old Jessica, and the female paramedic wrapped her arms around her tiny body; saying nothing, but letting the child release the heavy sorrow in her heart. A child, who not only sat by her mother’s lifeless body, but, also, with her mother’s cell phone, made the 911 call that she had hoped might keep her alive.

With no time to spare, the male paramedic set to work: checking for pulse, examining the body, and listening to the heartbeat. He glanced at his partner, nodding his head sadly. The female paramedic flinched, holding firmly onto Jessica, who still held onto her; her face buried in the female paramedic bosom.

Two police officers strutted in, their eyes sweeping all over the living room. One of them picked up what seemed like a used, brown patch on the floor; Fentanyl patch, and a used syringe not too far from the body. The other wandered into the kitchen, spotting an uncovered, empty pot on the stove, a spoon and a knife on the kitchen counter, and an empty, Fentanyl sachet in the kitchen garbage-can. Instantly, the cause of death was determined. The paramedics prepared the body for transfer to the morgue after concluding she was dead, while the police officers mooted. The paramedics began to move the body, but Jessica would not let them go with her mother without a fight.

Where are you taking my mom? I want to go with her, she cried, holding onto the gurney. She had hoped they could resuscitate her.

I’m sorry, Jessica, one of the police officers said, unhooking her hands off the gurney. Your mother is dead. She has gone to be with the lord.

Please, take me with her, she said, crying profusely. One of the police officers held her.

No. That is not possible. You are coming with us. We will take care of you, I promise, one of the officers said. Jessica struggled as they held her away from the transporting gurney. She watched as the paramedics lifted her mother into the back of the ambulance, her bare feet exposed under the sheet shrouding her. Jessica extended her right arm, as if reaching for her, and cried hysterically as they shut the van doors.

It would be the last time she would know joy in a long time. Once seated in the patrol car, with tear-blinded eyes, she gazed at her house and knew her life had changed forever. She had no one, but her mother.

Although, she could sleep now without waking up at night; making sure her mother was breathing and not falling off her bed, but she would rather opt to care for her continuously than be an orphan.

The tears did not stop flowing, until their arrival at the police station. She shivered, cuddling herself as the car door opened. They treated her delicately, helping her out of the car, waiting for her to walk at her pace without hurrying her up. With slumped shoulders, she shuffled beside one of the officers; head bent, and tear-trails on her face. The telephones rang incessantly, and officers wheezed by, indicative of a busy day. It was just a quarter to seven in the morning, and the beginning of a cold, fall season.

An officer led her into an office. A female police officer stood behind her desk, conversing through the telephone. She ended the call, and glanced at Jessica, pitying.

Hi, Officer Susan Maloney said, advancing towards Jessica upon spotting her tear-stained face and runny nose-- her arms open. How are you? Come here, she said without waiting for a reply. Jessica walked into the open arms and held onto the female police officer, tears flowing freely. Officer Susan yanked at the Kleenex box on the table, and handed some of the Kleenex to Jessica. I will get you something to drink," Officer Susan said, slowly breaking the embrace. She led Jessica to a seat, saying she would be back, and walked out with the officer who brought Jessica in.

What happened to her? she asked as they walked side by side amongst people striding hastily