All Her Broken Pieces

Chapter 1

Three years later...

I live in a world of complete and utter chaos.

Ha. That sounds like the start of the dystopian, post-apocalyptic YA novel I just read from the library.

No I don't live in a world of factions and order, nor do I live in a 12 district society that kills off 23 teenagers every year, I'm just me, Sang Sorenson. I'm a waitress at Bob's Diner in Charleston, South Carolina, have been since a week after I moved into the area, I came in for chocolate chip pancakes and left with a job and a boss I adore and who for some reason adores me as well, even has me call him Uncle instead of Mr. Taylor like most of his other employees.

I remember the day I met him very clearly, as it was exactly one week from the day my whole world flipped upside down, or rather right side up compared to the disaster it used to be.

***

It's been a week in my apartment on the fifth floor of the Sergeant Jasper, an older looking building with deceptively aging exterior but well-kept, homey interior. I'm out of the food I'd stashed in my suitcase and backpack, and I refuse to return to the cafe down the street, I swear the food there nearly killed me.

Deciding to brave this new city I've found myself in, I call for a taxi to find somewhere to eat breakfast before I find a grocery store and begin to make my home my own.

Hopping into the yellow cab I ask the driver, a nice middle aged woman named Stacy, for the best place to get food. She smiles and tells me that Bob's Diner is the best in the county for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

15 minutes later she pulls up out front of what looks to be a renovated church building. Perfect, I think to myself. Thanking and paying Stacy, I hop out of the cab and make my way inside, where I'm met with a barrage of incredible scents.

Since I'm by myself and don't want to take up an entire table when it appears incredibly busy in here I take a seat at the counter and pick up a menu to gloss over. A few minutes later I hear a throat clear and, looking up, I am met with a bright smile in the face of a fit middle aged man with brown hair touched with gray at his temples. He has kind eyes and I immediately feel at ease with him.

"Well hey there little birdie, what can I do you for?" he asks me and I giggle a little at the strange endearment, which makes his smile grow.

"May I please get some chocolate chip pancakes with a side of bacon and orange juice to drink?" I order quietly, my voice still to raspy and rough for normal volume.

If possible, his grin widens even further at my request. "Of course you can get some pancakes, I'll have you know that that is one of my nephew's favorite breakfast ever. He'll be glad to have another chocolate chip lover, though his brother might be on you about their health value and what not," I have to laugh, his nephews seem to vary a little in their eating habits, must drive eachother crazy and I find the courage to tell him as much. I receive a booming laugh for my comment, which makes me blush a little when a couple waitresses look at him wide-eyed.

"You hit the nail right on the head, like night and day those two are, but they're brothers and they love each other, even if they'll never admit it. I'll go get you your pancakes, funny bird." He heads back to the kitchen, leaving me behind still smiling at my first real conversation in longer than I can remember. I think I'll like it here.

He comes back about ten minutes later with my food and the cab driver was right, this is the best breakfast I've ever had, though to be honest I've only had cold oatmeal or cereal on the mornings step mother felt I deserved to eat, which wasn't often.