Fragile Steps: Chapters 1-3
A thriller novel, 10 years in the making.
TRIGGER WARNING: The following chapters include scenes of cruelty, bullying, and ableism. If these themes are difficult for you, please prioritize your well-being and read with caution.
Before we dive in, I just want to say thank you — truly — for taking the time to read this.
I started writing this story over ten years ago, with no prior writing experience and, fun fact (or not), having failed English in school. Twice. I gave up on it for about six years when it all got too difficult. But about two years ago, I picked it up again, took my time, and finally wrote a rough draft. Then a second, slightly less rough one. Then I took a break — and ended up writing some short stories here on Substack instead.
That’s when I found an amazing community of writers. Some of them have become dear friends, and honestly, their support helped me get to this point.
I’ve never had trouble posting my other stories — I’ve always believed in them, and I feel the same way about this one. But still, my hands are shaking as I type this. It means a lot to finally share these first chapters with you. This story is close to my heart, and I’m feeling all the things at once.
So, thank you again. I’m always open to questions and conversation. I hope you enjoy these first chapters, and I’m excited to share the rest of the journey with you.
Chapter 1: Brianna
The roar of the engine shattered the quiet. Brianna barely had time to jump to the side before the car streaked past, tires shrieking against the asphalt. Her heart hammered against her ribs. It was probably one of those dickheads from school, the ones who think a loud engine compensates for a lack of personality, among other things.
She’d always hated walking this road. A long stretch, between her neighborhood and Brad’s, where the streetlights were sparse and the sidewalk too narrow. On one side stood a tired-looking children’s play park, its swings twisted around the top bar and its twelve-foot slide rusting at the rails. A few scraggly trees dotted the edges, tangled with overgrown bushes that crept toward the pavement.
On the other side lay a hilly dumping ground, where rats scurried for shelter in the moldy, unwanted furniture of inconsiderate assholes. During the day, it wasn’t so bad. But at night, the streetlights cast uncertain shadows, shifting and stretching as the wind rattled the branches and rustled through the bushes.
She pulled her sweater sleeves over her hands, the cold night air biting at her cheeks. Dad had let her down again; he’d promised this morning that he’d be home from work in time to drive her to Brad’s. This time, she’d actually believed him — when would she ever learn?
She picked up the pace, ignoring the imaginary footsteps behind her, and the sinister eyes watching from the bushes. She’d made this journey a hundred times, each time her mind playing the same tricks, and each time she fell for them.
But then the pounding footsteps grew louder.
Her chest tightened. She wasn’t imagining it this time. Someone was chasing after her — catching up too quickly.
Oh god oh god oh god—
“Rex, wait up!”
She turned as the dog leapt, placing its mucky front paws on her. She sighed as she petted him, relieved that it wasn’t a serial killer, and blushing for thinking it was.
The owner caught up a few seconds later, clambering over one of the hills from the dump. “Oh. Hey, Brianna. Sorry if Rex startled you.”
Tara Johnson was in a few of her classes at school. A wide-eyed girl, who was always running late and smelt faintly of her dog. Brianna frowned at her. Why would anyone walk their dog there, especially at night? No wonder she didn’t have any friends. She gave a polite half-smile before turning away. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Cool… see you in school on Monday.”
Brianna popped her headphones in and continued with her head down, blaring her music as loud as she could stand. At least if there were any serial killers on the prowl tonight, she wouldn’t hear them sneak up on her. Almost there, she told herself.
Tonight, she’d get to spend time with her favorite person in the world. Brad’s mom wasn’t going to be home, so they’d have the place to themselves. Butterflies tickled her stomach, and she almost felt giddy. She could already picture Brad’s grin, the way he’d pull her close, the warmth of his arms around her—
The headlights swallowed her.
Brakes screeched.
It hit her.
She flew. Hit the ground. Everything shattered.
Pain screamed through her body, so sharp and overwhelming that it almost didn’t feel real.
I’m going to die.
The thought slammed into her harder than the car had.
Through the ringing in her skull, a car door slammed. Footsteps. Urgent. Panicked. “Oh… oh my fucking god.”
Brianna recognized the voice.
Ryan O’Connell, another of her classmates, and the star quarterback of the school football team. He stood with his hands on his head, tears streaming down his ghost-white cheeks, staring in despair at the mess he’d made of her. “Brianna… oh holy fucking shit.”
“H…help.” she tried to say, but it came out nothing like that.
Trembling, Ryan took a step forward, as if about to kneel beside her. His lips parted — ready to say something, perhaps call for help.
But then his breath hitched. His eyes darted to the road, then back to her broken body.
Brianna saw the moment it happened. The fear in his face twisted. Shifted into something else.
He no longer saw his dying classmate, just the end of his own future. It wasn’t Brianna’s life he was worried about — it was his.
“No…” Her voice was barely a whisper, more breath than sound. Please don’t leave me.
He took another step back.
Her pulse pounded in her ears. Every instinct screamed at her to move, to grab him, to fight for her life — but she couldn’t even lift a finger.
He turned and ran to the car.
He’s just going to get his phone. she told herself. Any moment now, he’d be back by her side, squeezing her hand and telling her the paramedics were on their way.
Then the engine revved. The car sped off, and Brianna knew her life was over.
Her heart pounded. Slower now. Heavy.
Cold seeped into her bones, creeping up her fingers, her chest.
She wasn’t scared anymore. Not really. Just… tired.
The streetlights blurred. The world faded.
Then, nothing.
Chapter 2: Brianna
The incessant tapping of rain on the window told her it was going to be another great fucking day. The dullest of light snuck through the crack in the curtains, not nearly as bright as the blueish light from her phone screen.
“Brianna! You’re gonna be late for school.”
She ignored her mom and continued to scroll mindlessly, waiting for a sudden burst of motivation to get her out of bed.
“Do you need a hand, sweetheart?”
That was all the motivation she needed. “I’m just coming!”
She rubbed her eyes, then maneuvered to the edge of the bed. Then placed one hand on her wheelchair, and, with a forceful grunt, hoisted herself into it.
Her dad burst into the room like there was a fire, then froze, avoiding her gaze. He looked like he’d been up all night. His eyes were dark and puffy, and his unkempt stubble appeared to hold traces of last night’s dinner. He cleared his throat. “I, uh… you sounded like you needed some help.”
“Does she need some help, Arthur?” Her mom burst into the room, barging past her dad. Her greasy hair was scraped back in a loose ponytail, and yesterday’s make-up was smeared around the neck of her pajamas. She leaned in close. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
Brianna turned to avoid the stench of wine from her mom’s breath. “Guys, I’m fine.” she spat, sighing as she barged past them.
***************
Much like her soaked hoodie, the walls of the old school building were saturated with rain, making it darker and more miserable than usual.
Principal Mike Munroe stood at the front gate, oversized golf umbrella in hand, greeting only his favorite students. Laughing and joking next to him, as always, was his best bud, Lieutenant Frank O’Connell, and his son, Ryan.
An icy chill shot through her, the same as every time she saw him. Ryan O’Connell, the selfish little fuck who’d destroyed her life. At once, she was back in the middle of that dark road, alone, and clinging to life.
And then there was his father beside him — the strait-laced, honest upholder of the law. He had a hand in helping his son cover up his actions that fateful night, she just knew it. The police never found a scratch on the car, not a dent, nothing to suggest it had been used to break her body in two.
Everyone had thought she was crazy; Lieutenant O’Connell had made sure of that. From the side of her hospital bed, the same bed in which she’d been told she’d never walk again, she was repeatedly visited by two slimy detectives, his buddies from the station. They forced her to answer the same awful questions over and over again, peeling away what little self-esteem she had left:
“So you were wandering the streets at night alone? Anyone might have thought you were up to no good.”
“Is it possible that you distracted the driver at all – perhaps with the way you were dressed? You said you were going to your boyfriend’s, after all.”
“Can you really be sure about the color of the vehicle? It was dark, and you’ve been through a lot, perhaps you’re mistaken.”
“How much had you had to drink that night?”
“How are things between you and your boyfriend? Had you ever been unfaithful to him? Did you ever give him any reason to want to hurt you?”
Ignore them. she told herself as she approached the gate. That’s exactly what Principal Munroe had been doing to her for the past year. Before her accident, when she was in the athletics team, she couldn’t get past the front gate without him stopping her for a quick catch-up, asking how training was going, when the next race would be. But for the past year, he’s pretended she doesn’t exist. Maybe he’d prefer if she didn’t.
Munroe grew silent as she past through the gate, adjusting his umbrella as if the very act of holding it was a chore. At least he had the decency to stop laughing, which is more than can be said for Lieutenant O’Connell. “Hey, we still good for a round this Saturday? You owe me a rematch, remember!” He nudged Munroe and forced out a hearty chuckle. Brianna had a feeling that laugh was partly meant for her.
The main hallway was starting to fill. Pockets of yawning students filed their way in to grab some breakfast before the day started. Brianna was collecting her books from her locker when her ears buzzed with that all-too-familiar squawk that was just loud enough for her to hear.
“Isn’t my boyfriend just the best?” Keara McKenzie rested her head on Brad’s arm, locking fingers with him as if she fucking owned him, and flashed Brianna a smug smile. After Brianna and Brad broke up, she wasted no time sinking her half-chewed nails into him. Seeing them together every day was like being knifed in the heart for Brianna, each time with a rustier blade.
And Keara just loved rubbing her face in it. She kissed Brad on the cheek and continued with her over the top performance. “I just feel sorry for his ex, she must be kicking herself for losing him. Oh, wait — she can’t!”
Keara’s little crowd of followers matched her forced cackle with sniggers and guffaws of their own, feigning shock at her simply outrageous humor and painfully sharp wit. Violet and Michaela joined in as well, Brianna’s former friends who’d always been desperate to be liked by this brainless bunch. After the accident, they showed their true colors, ditching her when she needed them most.
The only person not laughing was Brad, who looked like he wished the ground would swallow him whole. But even so, he never had the balls to tell Keara that her jokes weren’t funny. Spineless Prick.
She snatched up her books and slammed her locker shut before turning and heading to class.
It took Brianna most of the day to get Keara’s joke, and that squawky voice of hers, out of her head. She finally had a reason to smile after lunch, when Mr. Benson handed her the results of her pop quiz. “Brianna Harvey, one hundred percent again.” He winked at her. “It’s a nice habit to have. Keep it up!”
Brianna nodded. “Thank you, sir.”
It was easy to do well in school when you had no friends or hobbies that involved leaving your bedroom.
Brianna had never felt claustrophobia until she was forced to navigate crowded places in her wheelchair, unable to see more than an inch ahead while ignorant, sweaty people barged past her like she was just another obstacle. And now she got to experience it at the end of every school day.
She was caught in the usual stampede of students fighting their way through the main hallway, desperate to escape for another day. “Excuse me,” she said again, her desire to sound polite fading as yet another person accidently cut in front of her, and another leaned on the back of her chair.
The exit was in sight though; soon, she’d feel the fresh air and be able to breathe—
Crack! Something hit her on the temple, throbbing pain radiating through her head. It didn’t feel like an accident.
And, of course, it wasn’t. Keara smirked at her through the crowd, with Violet and Michaela shadowing her. “Oh, I’m sorry, Harvey!” she said, gasping melodramatically, her fingers barely covering her mouth. “My elbow didn’t see you there!”
Principal Munroe was inches from them, and saw the whole thing. “Keep moving, girls.” he said, before stifling a yawn and turning away.
Brianna sped up, forcing her way through the remainder of the crowd. Tara Johnson saw her coming and kindly held the door for her, but she couldn’t thank her, in case she burst out crying.
When she finally made it outside, she was grateful it was still raining. Hopefully it would mask the tears flowing down her cheeks.
Chapter 3: Jill
The faint hum of fluorescent lights flickered in the air, merging with the rhythmic whir of machines behind closed doors. Bleach stung the eyes and invaded nostrils, strong enough to make you gag. Jill was a long way from the fresh air of the outside world above, and yet she marched down the pale green corridor with a playful smile.
For the past month, mornings had been her favorite time of day, because that’s when she checked in on Subject #26, aka “John”.
He’d made wonderful progress — his maimed leg had grown by a whole two inches, and it looked like a new kneecap was beginning to form. Things were finally looking up; Marcus and the other directors would be pleased with her for once. Maybe her job would be safe for a while.
But it wasn’t just about the progress, oh no. John was also a huge flirt, always serenading her with some old love song, asking when he was getting that sponge bath she apparently owed him. She couldn’t help but join in a little as well, playing the strict school teacher, threatening to punish him for skipping his rehab exercises. She loved it, and how could she not? He was big and muscular, not to mention easy on the eye.
Plus, she’d learned the hard way that it pays to be nice to the subjects, however long they end up living.
As she approached the ward, she thought about treating John to take-out for dinner. It was important that he never felt like a prisoner here. Prisoners can be uncooperative and hostile, but guests, well, they’re much more compliant. They’d had pizza last time, so perhaps Indian or Chinese this time, or maybe even—
An agonizing shout filled the corridor, followed by a terrified scream. Jill’s gut wrenched when she realized the noises were coming from the ward.
The double doors burst open and a nurse came running out, looking terrified as she sprinted past her. “He’s gonna kill me!”
The doors crashed open again, wood splintering as they burst off their hinges. John landed face down on the battered doors. When he looked up, Jill’s heart seized in her chest.
He’d torn most of his hair out, just like the others had, and his face had completely changed. The handsome man who’d charmed her every morning had been replaced with a monster. Blood ran down his chin, and his eyes were filled with a familiar evil Jill had seen too many times before. He’s gone.
It growled — almost like speech, but too warped to make sense, then charged at her.
She turned and ran, her legs like lead as it clambered after her, palms slapping against the linoleum floor, its ragged breath growing louder as the gap between them closed. Her office was just ahead though; the door wouldn’t keep it out for long, but it might buy her enough time to grab the shotgun from her cabinet. She reached for the handle…
…and a big arm swiped at her leg, sending her tumbling to the floor. She curled into a tight ball and prayed for a quick death.
But it never came.
The thing let out an exhausted groan and collapsed beside her with a thud. Jill looked up, and found one of the orderlies standing over her, a tall man, lean and hairless, holding a tranq pen with an empty vial. He always had a sour look on his face, but it was worse now that he’d just had half his nose chewed off.
The corridor spun as he helped her to her feet. Leaning against the wall, she reached for inhaler and took two puffs, catching her breath as her heart still pounded.
“What the hell happened here?” Arthur appeared with his hands on his hips, frowning like he’d just been told Thanksgiving dinner was cancelled.
“The same thing that’s happened the last however many times.” she said, wondering why men always ask stupid questions.
Arthur sighed. “Dispose of it.” he said to the orderly.
“No, wait.” Jill scratched her head. Another setback — what were they missing? And that strength. The others had been strong too, but nowhere near as strong as that. Those doors must have weighed a ton, and yet a one legged man was able to rip them off the hinges. She needed answers. “Put it in one of the test rooms. A secure one.”
“Yes ma’am.” The big orderly dragged the unconscious subject away by the ankles.
To Jill’s annoyance, Arthur followed her into her office without asking permission. “His dosage was all wrong, you know that, right? Double it, and he wouldn’t have turned.”
She had expected him to say something like this. “Maybe.”
“He’s a big guy; he needed more. Trust me, we did everything else right. The dosage was definitely too low.”
She sat in her worn office chair. “Well, hopefully when we run some more tests we’ll definitely know for sure.”
She squinted at her computer screen and pretended to be reading something important in the hope that Arthur would take the hint and leave, but he wasn’t done yet. “How long do you plan on observing him?”
She leaned back on her chair and folded her arms. “As long as it takes for me to be sure of our next move. We’ll likely need to study further subjects as well.”
“Further subjects?” Arthur’s words were riddled with disbelief and frustration. Jill was not surprised by his reaction. Further subjects meant further testing and observations, which meant him waiting even longer to get what he wants. “We finally have a breakthrough, after all this time, and you want to go back and run more tests?”
Jill scoffed. “You call that a breakthrough?”
“Yes, I do!” Arthur leaned on the desk and held up two firm fingers. “Two months! Two whole months he was in here, and not a single side-effect. Now is not the time to put the brakes on.”
“And what about the others? What about their side effects?”
He waved his hand nonchalantly. “We learned from those.”
“But we haven’t learned enough. Now, I understand how you feel, but—”
“Don’t fucking patronize me, Jill!” The vein on Arthur’s forehead, the one she’d seen a lot of in the past year, looked fit to burst. “There’s no way you could understand how I feel, the hell I’ve been through. Now, I’m the lead on this program, and I say the time is right.”
Jill shook her head. She had half a mind to suspend him for speaking to her like that, but she needed him, even if he was losing it. “You would really risk her life — your daughter’s life? I’m sorry, but I cannot let you do that, Arthur. The time is right when I say it is. Not a moment sooner.”
Arthur lowered his gaze and walked away. As he reached the doorway, he lingered, his fist clenched against the frame. His voice was low and full of bitterness and sorrow. “How much longer are you going to make me watch her suffer?”
Before she could respond, the door slammed shut.
You made it through the first three chapters — thank you so much for reading!
I’d love to hear your thoughts, theories, or favorite moments, so don’t be shy in the comments. And if you’re eager to keep reading, paid subscribers will get access to the next chapters four days early.
Can’t wait to share what’s next with you.
Absolutely love this omg. Ya done it again mate!
This is exciting! So curious to which direction you decide to take it in.