Based on the song "Life on Mars" by David Bowie...
Someone is killing girls in the little town of Nowhere, South Dakota and they all look like Fiona Mars.
Fiona has a secret she can't quite remember. A secret her father, the Sheriff, is trying hard...
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My mind hasn't worked right. Not as long as I can remember. It started tiny, the things I noticed first: A deposed thought about my height or my weight. A silent critique about my usefulness. Then came what I call, "the scissor moments." During a day I ask myself "would this moment be better without me?" and I'll cut myself out of it like a paper doll to see if it improves.
I'm broken. There are two things you can't fix: stupid and broken.
And I'm not THAT stupid.
My parents were the stick to measure. Watching them, I understood my mind ticked different, because, most people liked who they were! Most people weren't aimless. Most people didn't want to cut themselves out of a day and watch it close up on itself like they were never there. My dad, he had a purpose. He was a hero. I tried to be near him to soak in just a little. My mom—she saw the world with herself in it. Right at the center. People invited her places because every room needed an axis revolve.
I have no axis.
Headlights skated on a glass road wet from the rain. When I left the party that night, I couldn't feel my fingertips. I couldn't feel at all. But whatever the alcohol or the drugs had hidden from me, I still knew I was different. My car glanced a deer. A flash of white and a pop—a headlight exploded.
I slid to a stop.
There was someone in the front seat with me. She looked like me, and I wanted me dead. The only time I could escape myself was at the movies. In the dark. With a reality on-screen that didn't have me in it.
I don't remember what happened that night Busy died.
