Broken

             I grasped it tightly; completely unaware of the blood that was dripping from the wound I was creating. I felt numb, and I hoped that this would at least make me feel something. Anything.

            But as I saw the blood pool around the soles of my feet, I knew that I would not find solace. Not today at least. I couldn’t bring myself to look at the shard of glass I held. I didn’t recognise myself in the reflection anymore, so why bother?

            Glancing up at the leafless willow tree I sat under, I noticed the sun had set. Strange, I didn’t even notice the sun rise. In all honesty, I didn’t even remember how long I’ve sat there on the top of that bare hill.

            I was going to squeeze my shard of glass again when I heard something shatter, followed by a scream. The sound came from an awfully long way away, so it took me some time to decide on whether or not to investigate.

            I’ve been here long enough, I suppose. I got up and started walking in the general direction of the scream.

            The walk was long. I lost my way amongst the sea of faceless people, a myriad of metal islands, and the looming silhouettes of trees – ever threatening to devour my soulless husk.

            My search went on for years. Occasionally, I would follow the wrong trail of blood, which led me to the darkest abysses. With every wrong trail I followed, hope drained out of me just as the blood drained out of the wound on my hand. I broke the shard more and more. I made it sharper – to draw more blood out of me, maybe to draw out what remains of my soul.

            When I could no longer take it, I dropped to my knees as my vision blurred. I guess I may never meet the person who needed my help. I closed my eyes to give in to the darkness. I was ready to leave the world that would not miss my being.

            The darkness was beginning to envelop me when there was a tap on my shoulder. I opened my eyes and looked around to see this person standing there, looking just as puzzled as I was. I must have had an absurdly ridiculous look on my face because it made her giggle.

            I knew that voice. My eyes widened. She pointed at the trail of blood I left behind, which she was apparently following. I was at the brink of death, but I was amused. I was looking for this person for years to assist her, but somehow, she found me instead. She saved me instead. The irony was overwhelming.

            She held up a shard of glass, just like mine. Just like mine. I held mine up to hers, and the broken edges fit each other perfectly, forming one whole piece with no sharp edges whatsoever.

            I smiled. We’re all broken in one way or another. But being broken led us to each other. And what can I say; she was perfect.

            Now we can heal. Together.

-Izzat R.