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.