A Compendium For The Broken Hearted

A compendium for the broken hearted

Published by Meredith Miller at Smashwords.com

Copyright Meredith Miller 2016

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Table of contents

Blurb

Breaks-- --Hearts

Story 1-- --Story2

Story 3-- --Story 4

Story 5-- --Story 6

Story 7-- --Story 8

Story 9-- --Story 10

Story 11-- --Story 12

Story 13-- --Story 14

Story 15-- --Story 16

Story 17-- --Story 18

Story 19-- --Story 20

Connect with Meredith Miller

Blurb

If you are reading this, it may be that you are broken hearted. If not, then I am very glad, and hope you never will be. I hope this book evokes your interest and serves as a positive experience.

If you are, then please do not despair. Here is a compilation of short stories created in order to bring peace to shattered remains. In all likelihood, we’ll not meet. If we do in passing, we may not recognize one another.

For all that these reasons may make it unreasonable, I would like to think that this book is a hug, from me to you.

I will try two things in order to comfort you. The book is separated into Breaks and Hearts. The Breaks shall show you the horrors and sadness possible in this world, hoping that in their shadow your situation may not seem as bad. The Hearts are meant to give you hope, and present the beauty of the human heart. Perhaps you’ll see how sweet life could be.

If I fail in this quest, I cannot apologise enough. Please don’t take it as a sign that it will never get better for you, or that the world is a bad place. Just think that an incompetent woman was unable to make your day better. Also, try not to get too mad with me.

After all, I wrote a book just for you.

Story 1

Connor was wrong about being alone.

Meredith knew her older brother to be a kind and gentle soul. For one, He took her to the park whenever she asked for it, mostly. He also helped babysit when their parents weren’t around. Finally, he’d always been there to comfort whenever she fell whilst playing or got scared at night. Present parents were a rare occurrence for Meredith, because both of hers worked jobs that often took them away from home. Nancy taught older children for a living, while John spent much of his time fixing things in other people’s homes. Connor replaced both brilliantly. Her mother smelt of chalk and dangerous rulers smacking hands, and Connor was a midsummer breeze blowing away any problems with the sweet scent of flowers she could not name. John wore women’s perfumes when he came back from work, and he’d often go away to spend his nights with friends. When that happened it was her brother’s musky fragrance, smelled from a short distance, which comforted her.

Their little family had few other relatives, yet Meredith remained content. Connor complimented her constantly: On her clothes, her drawings; even how fast she learned to count and read letters. When she was taken to the park to play, she wasn’t scared. Swings didn’t move too fast, because adults made them and they wouldn’t make anything unsafe for children. The little girl especially liked the feeling of holding the rope all by herself, ignoring the fact that her father wasn’t looking at her, instead reading a magazine about playing with bunnies. When Connor took her for the first time, he surprised his little sister immensely, for he stayed behind her and pushed her on the swings. Despite being perfectly capable of swinging by herself, Meredith was very glad for the help. The park’s equipment was rusty and sometimes ocean salt would get into her nose, mixing with the rust and stinging her. Whenever it happened, Meredith was not afraid because she was a big girl, despite being only four or... what was it again? At times, she would think that she wasn’t perhaps as smart as she thought she was, because of course she was young and had a lot to learn. Still, Meredith knew that if she tried hard enough, anything would be possible.

Connor was a good student as well as a great teacher. One day, when she was still in first grade, Meredith walked into his room to see him working on maths. He had no problem with her looking over his shoulder, and would answer any questions she had. After a while of looking, the little girl noticed something strange. It’s wrong, Connor. She said this time, frowning slightly. She could tell he smiled, even without seeing his face.

What’s wrong, mermaid? he inquired of her, still scribbling on his pieces of paper. It looked like he was doing many lines of long questions, but she could tell he was slacking off. After all, all of the questions had similar numbers. Meredith frowned once more despite the use of her favourite nickname, already biting her lips as she often did.

You put minuses but there’s nothing in front of them. He’d made that mistake repeatedly, in fact. Meredith waited for her brother to go back and change his work, and thus became surprised when he gave a minty laugh instead. She was sure he wasn’t laughing at her, and so giggled along. Connor never laughed at her.

These are negative numbers, sweetie. They’re what minuses are made of. He looked at her slightly confused expression then sighed in that smiling way of his. The older sibling then pulled out a fresh sheet and drew a straight line on it, then other lines. Above that, he drew one person, then many. Meredith’s face brightened when she realized that it was a group of people playing tug of war. She loved playing that game at school and home. After all, at home Connor always lost on purpose to make her happy. Right in the middle, her brother wrote 0. One team is minus, he started explaining, motioning with his hands, and the other team is plus. Now, if there are two people in the plus team, and one in the minus team, how much would they win by?

She thought for an instant and then announced, One! eliciting a short clap from Connor for her mathematical abilities. He then asked a few more times with different numbers, getting correct answers. Finally he asked slyly, And what if the minus team has two people and the other only one? Meredith almost said one again before catching herself.

Using that momentum, Connor explained to his little sister that there were numbers below zero, and they just mean that you have less than nothing. If she promised him three apples and only gave him two, she would need to go get one more for him, leaving her with less than zero apples. But... she declared, You’d forgive me if I’m missing one.

They shared a laugh again, and he said, Yes, yes I would, mermaid.

The next day she explained what she’d found out for her teacher and Miss Miller made everybody clap for her then gave her not one, but two star stickers.

One particular day, a playmate named Peter Jones joined Connor and Meredith to get ice cream together from the small shop near the beach. Peter was as sweet and odd as cinnamon sticks. His mother had called out to Connor to take him, because he was a trustworthy youth and she was busy with something or the other that day. Thus all three made their way to the shop, which smelled oddly of a variety of sweet things mixed with cool air-conditioning and salt. The smiling cashier was coconut and curry and Meredith liked both very much, so decided that he was a friend despite knowing that not all people were good. What kind are you kids going to get? called Connor after the two sprinting children.

Strawberry! exclaimed Peter.

Meredith countered with, Chocolate.

While the two went back and forth, Connor asked them to look for something with pineapple in it for him. Even after looking through the towering ice cream fridge twice, no hint of pineapple was to be found. It was only after the Connor himself looked over that last elusive topmost row that he found one last piece. It was the kind that came in two smaller sticks in order to be shared, but he took it with a smile before going to coconut man. Money exchanged hands, and although Meredith asked to be in charge of that transaction herself, people waiting in line behind them caused her brother to refuse.

They had only been outside a minute, talking with one another and paying no attention to roads or other such things, when Peter’s foot caught on one particular nasty red brick and he fell right over. Connor caught him just in time, but not before his poor strawberry flavoured ice cream went flying out of his hand. It plopped on the brick pavement with a horrible sound. Almost instantly, Peter’s face contorted like a withered flower. In order to comfort him, Connor patted the boy’s shoulder while checking his foot for injuries. It was like in a doctor’s office, but the good kind, the ones that don’t reek of needle juice. There, there, he said, don’t you worry about the ice cream. The important thing is that you’re alright.

Still, Peter’s crying did not stop immediately, as Meredith’s usually did. Mom can’t always give me money for ice cream. He mumbled the words, and Connor’s face changed.

It’s all right, Peter. You’re a big good boy, and deserve strawberry ice cream, right mermaid? He came second in his class’ quiz yesterday, wasn’t he? Meredith nodded, because Peter had told them about it earlier, on the yellow seesaw. How about I get you another one? he offered, but Peter shook his head vigorously, lips pursed in determined manner despite his wet eyes and flushed cheeks.

I’m sorry, Connor, but we don’t take money.

In that moment, Meredith remembered the stories Connor sometimes told her about knights in shining armour who slew dragons. She decided that Peter was a knight, all rust and set jaws. She didn’t fully understand the significance of the boy’s words, but Meredith glimpsed pride for the first time. Connor’s expression had less mint in it, and more a mixture of dark chocolate and honey. Well, why doesn’t our brave boy take a half of my ice cream? he wondered aloud to no one, before adding It’s pineapple though.

After a second of hesitation Peter took the offered half of Connor’s double stick dessert with a polite, Thank you.

As they went back, the little girl said, Connor, I think nice knights are good, just like the brave ones, eliciting a confused laugh from her brother. From that day on, Meredith always bought ice cream in two sticks, just in case.

Then her brother went away. A university took him, and Meredith learned that there were other things in life beside school and play. To cope, her parents got a babysitter occasionally, generally trusting the eight year old to be good at home. And good she was, for Meredith had learned a lot from Connor. She went to school diligently, played quietly and was nice to everyone in her class. This caused her to become slightly popular, which wasn’t a bad thing. Still, every day when she finished doing her homework and studying, the little girl preferred to get out of their little messy house. In time, that place had started to leave a bad taste in her mouth, like sour candy that was five days too old. Mostly the sourness came from John and Nancy’s constant fights. Luckily, both preferred her out of the way for those, although they sometimes wanted her to sit in the living room and pretend to watch TV. She heard John once tell one of his friends that children were a little stupid; when they watched TV they couldn’t hear anything you did. So Meredith left the two adults to their ways and instead went to the park to meet Peter and his mom. They were nice, and always happy to see her. Meredith began to spend a lot of time building sand castles in the pit, and as time sped along, it became one of her favourite things to do.

At first her castles were little more than upturned sand buckets with holes poked inside of them. The first time she tried it, half the topmost castle crumbled off before she could do anything. Still, Peter had been fascinated by her creation. Wow, there’s space for cannons and everything! he’d exclaimed, hopping about in excitement.

It’s not great, she had retorted. In her mind’s eye the castle should have been completely different.

Sure it is, said peter, marching around the castle like a soldier looking for a breaking, I can’t get in, can I? at that Meredith had laughed. There was no way Peter could have fit into such a small castle.

From then on they had alternated in playing each other’s games: Meredith would go on the monkey bars with him and he would pretend to be a soldier trying to break into her castles, stomping around and pointing out weak points. He had a real knack for it too, because his father used to love books and had left a lot of army stories lying about. As Meredith added moats and bridges and separated burnable building components so they could be easily cut off in emergencies, Peter told her about defence mechanisms and clever contraptions. Each of the two had, inadvertently, found a calling in life.

Meredith didn’t know what an engineer was, and so had asked her sitter, Chung, about it. The girl was nice enough, although she herself was often preoccupied with talking to her boyfriend on the phone and so sometimes wanted Meredith to be quiet. Sweetie, I’ll explain everything about building castles in a bit, so can you please go to the side and play with your building kit for now?

About an hour later, Chung came over to where Meredith had built a small two story house out of tubes and building blocks acting as joints. She had added simple sheets of paper as red brick wall, completing her project. A couple of seconds later the whole thing fell apart and the baby sitter giggled. Taking the opportunity, she explained to Meredith that people who designed buildings were called architects, and that they need to study things called physics and geometry in school. Meredith was shocked, because nowhere had she ever learned physics. Don’t worry, kid, Chung had soothed, all bubblegum and perfume and smiles, You’re too young. People probably start learning physics when they’re in ninth grade or something. I think I was that old when I did.

Meredith felt relieved for an instant, despite having to wait so long. She was still in third grade. But if you needed to be that old... Is Physics really hard? asked she, at once hopeful and afraid. What if it was terribly difficult and she couldn’t make castles?

Well... Chung pondered for a second, causing Meredith to grow even more frightened. She almost hunched down before the older girl with her short hair laughed, I was an arts major, so it sure was difficult to me! Seeing Meredith’s worry, however, she pressed on. Everybody has things they are good at and things they’re not, but if you really like it, I’m sure you’ll do just fine, girl. I’m cheering for you.

A couple of months after that, Connor came back home for the holidays. It was the first time a fresh breeze had gone through Meredith’s home that entire year, and she welcomed him with a fierce hug. He would go with her to the park and they would talk with Peter, as well as her numerous friends. There was no snow where they lived, but sand worked just as well for clump throwing purposes. Connor read her stories again and she snuggled in close as he did, taking in that musky perfume he’d always had. Things came to a welcome change, and Meredith wished her brother didn’t need to go away and finish learning computer things at all. Still, the girl was empathetic, and understood that just like how she wanted to build castles, Connor wanted to type things into computers. She had the confidence in herself to wait until he finished everything in university and came back home for good. By then she would be able to show him how much she’d grown and what she’d learned. Connor would be surprised once she was allowed in the kitchen. She’ll make him pizzas with pineapples one them.

It was this same empathy that allowed Meredith to notice the bitterness creeping into her brother’s visit. It only poked its head out at times, and was hidden promptly by a shiny smile, as if pushed back by force. One such time was when she had asked Connor about how his studies were going. After a dark look, her brother had laughed and said, University is harder than high school, mermaid.

You can do it, Connor, came her determined reply that time, wishing nothing but the best. They had been sitting in front of the TV, although her brother paid more attention to her trying to build a particularly long bridge out of split drinking straws.

I’m sure I can, in time.

A week after that came a similar chilly stench, when Connor had complimented Meredith on being able to make so many friends. She had turned around to him and exclaimed, Of course, bro, I have just as many friends as you! her observation was, of course, unfounded, because she didn’t know how many friends Connor had outside of town. She’d simply assumed he was popular in university, and wanted to prove herself his equal. Why wouldn’t such a sweet kind brother have many friends? His look, in response, lasted only an instant, but it was one that Meredith had rarely seen in her house, other than when her mother sat alone in the kitchen and cried because John had been out too long and came back so tired he tripped over his own feet.

In the second Connor contemplated her proclamation, the scent of beach and sunshine and happiness was gone. You could have told Meredith that she was in a dark mouldy cave and she would have believed it. Then Connor smiled and said, It’s okay, sweetie, I think you win on that one. You’re a special girl.

When Connor left, Meredith shed a few tears, but she knew that he would be back sooner or later. John didn’t seem to care, and Nancy was too busy to see him go, although she had scolded him earlier and told him not to forget to bring his test results when he next came. Thus an entire year whizzed by until her brother came back again. This year was spent with school and play. However, she was old enough able to help out at the house a little bit. Cleaning, tidying things up, these were her skills, and she used them as often as she could. After all, people were supposed to be good and help out. She remembered that being something Connor had told her. Chung started to come over less frequently, and was now more trusting of Meredith.

When he came back next, however, Connor seemed to be caught up in his own issues. He noticed that she had become a bigger more helpful girl, and complimented her extensively on that fact. Still, he seemed preoccupied with his essays, which Meredith didn’t truly understand. Essays weren’t too bad as long as you did them little by little. Why, she had done one just that past week. Of course, she didn’t say that to her brother, because of the lines on his forehead. Connor had lost much of his healthy pudginess, had a ragged look in his eyes, gained about two inches of hair, and worst of all, her brother forgot to shower sometimes because he was too busy with his studies. That holiday, Meredith spent much of the vacation complaining to Peter and Tracey, another friend, about her brother’s disappearance. "He’s just always in his room." She’d said.

Grown ups, huffed Peter in mock disgust, Mom’s always too busy too. It’s okay Meredith, he’ll finish up and then come play. Let me show you what I’ve found out. Peter brought out a book, which he flipped through to show her something called, Underground rivers

They use them in castles. explained he. Maybe you can do something like that with sand. By now, the kids were allowed to traverse a bit further alone, and so sometimes went to