Author's note: First story! So should I finish that in the first place? Ever wondered what will happen if our messed up Effy Stonem occasionally meet someone just as fucked up as herself? I'm OK with criticism so go ahead an review about whatever you want. Rated T for some strong language and possible inappropriate content for younger ages in future chapters. Also, English is not my mother language and even though I learn it for nearly 13 years still I may make some stupid mistakes so get over it. After all, isn't the story what is important?

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas and any OC which appears in the story. Everything else is owned by its respectable owners.

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Chapter one: Color-blind

Everything was shattered. Everything is shattered. My life, my future, my dreams. After all, no matter what efforts were made I am just a shell; a body in which a soul no longer belongs. Maybe I was in fact born backwards. What else could explain my habit to turn everything upside down? There is no American dream which can bring the pieces back together and let me start again. Once there was drama there is no longer place for anything else. However, people are too blind sometimes to admit it. My mum is such a believer. Here she is – buying a house near LA and believing that it would help us start all over. There is no such thing as an American dream. LA won't help us, nor will America or any other fucking country in the world. Things get broken for purpose. It happens in order for them to never be repaired. Life is a game. Sick and twisted game in which you win or lose but no one wins if they stay in their shell forever. Experiment, try, taste… That's what creates the colourful palette. Otherwise, everything is boringly grey.

Think clouds of smoke were leaving her blossom pink lips and later were turning into an airy fog. Her ocean blue eyes were following its collision with the light blue sky. In England all that she could see were grey clouds covering the whole sky. They were like that thick fog that never let go. Just like it was there to depress and suck the life out of somebody. Maybe that was the reason for her destruction. It was easier to blame the sky and the clouds than to realise that it was mainly her fault. Her sassy and ignorant behaviour that lead to all the mistakes she made for all those years. Effy was still that delicate like a porcelain doll girl which hid under the mask of the bitch. Still she never could beat Katie. But did anyone care? Could anyone understand her? Could she ever tell anyone how she really felt? The answer was clearly no. Especially when she could see the smile on the face of her mother. That hopeful smile was assuring that everything would be fine when in fact it could never be. Her view intentionally moved to the house. The two-storеyеd house kept in some what of a Victorian style. Something occasionally small to be called mansion but resembling to such a kind of house. Mansion or not it was the least favourite place for Effy. There was no way that she could call that her home. Her home was in Bristol no matter how shattered everything there was. Still she had some kind of sense for belonging when here she got nothing. All she could sense in the middle of those long corridors was emptiness. However, she would imagine that the walls could talk. They were telling story about families. People, who lived and died here, never having chance to move forward; in fact they were stuck behind these walls for eternity. Maybe they were also born backwards; destined to die in such an ironic way and end up like characters from Stephen King. What a tragedy!

"Elizabeth, eat your veggies." the middle-aged woman insisted. Funny how they both had nothing in common apart from the same surname. Effy was stubborn and self-concerned. Even their appearance wasn't similar. Her mother had those sympathetic hazel eyes which never melted the ice inside hers. Of course, in the end it was the hair. That wild shoulder length brownish auburn hair that Effy owned had nothing to do with the unhealthy looking golden blond hair of her mother.

"I do not want to." Effy rejected to do what she was told in strong British accent. That was one of the thing she wasn't ready to let go. She liked that accent. After all, it was her last and only connection with Bristol and her forgotten past. A heavy sign left her mother's lips but there were no more words. All she ever did was giving up. She never tried to understand Effy. She just asked the casual question, acted like the average parent and by the time she was most needed, all she ever cared about were her own problems. Now there was irreparable abyss between them. It was never to be closed. Neither talks nor the American dream could do anything about it. Loud sound of breaking glass pierced past her ears as the crystal glass of water met the wooden floor of the kitchen. There was no sorry because everything was precisely intentional. Mrs. Stonem was used to it. It started a long time ago. Effy would always break things and walk away to her room after that. Little she knew that it was her way to ask for help and understanding. Did she even know her own daughter?

"Who are you?" her voice was cold and distant. Her icy-cold gaze was going right through the vulnerable body of a boy. There was slight difference between her and him. Not in appearance but in impression which they both left behind themselves. They were both shattered. Two broken porcelain dolls destined to end up in a doll cemetery but in fact they were here, still breathing. Little did she know that in fact she was the only one to breathe properly the stuffy air in the room.

"Tate." he answered softly as it was a simple math task. In fact, the question was rather stupid and didn't need a complicated answer. However, the real question Effy was supposed to ask was what he actually did here. He neither looked like a burglar, nor did he seem as any type of criminal. He was just an average high school boy. Probably he even attended college. How could she know he died about twenty years ago?

"Get out" Effy raised her voice and it was sharp and confident. She sat in her bed and lowered her head to her knees. Right now she didn't want to see anybody. She could still sense the bitter taste of sorrow and fear. Her milky pale skin was still trembling at times as a result of the nightmare she had just gone through. She looked back ahead of herself and he was still there. Tate was staring at her without using words but he could understand her.

"Get out!" Effy nearly shouted but tried to keep her voice down in order not to wake her mother. She was probably the least person needed in this situation. The brunette girl got up and moved to the window in order to open it. Fresh sip of dusty air made its way to her lungs as the end of the match flared in bright red, yellow and white colours. New thick clouds of smoke filled the room and came out of her lips. Sometimes smoking was the only activity that could capture all her time and leave her emotionless after some time. Effy couldn't deal with her own emotions so she just kept shutting them away. After some time it became easier. She didn't consider that as giving up even though that was the real thing she did all the time. Eventually, maybe she wasn't far different from her mother.

She continued secretly to observe the boy. His blond hair was messy and rather long and slightly reminded her of her past but he had nothing to do with the boys she was thinking about. His body structure was kind of clumsy and frail. He wore that plain blouse looking more like a jersey with all those green and black stripes making him look like a new kind of prisoner. Little did she know how right this assumption was. Suddenly he just disappeared. It wasn't as he reached the door with fast steps. He just disappeared into the air. One minute he was there, the other he wasn't. Effy turned around but there was no result. A small part of her was sure it was just a dream, however, the other one suspected the generation of a new kind of insanity for her. After all, madness wasn't actually a new thing for her nor were such hallucinations.