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.

Not Yet

Not again. There weren’t any words to describe how I felt as I walked into my greenhouse and saw my single purple rose on the dirt, wilted. Was I angry? Sad? Disappointed? Was there even a tinge of relief? Or a mix of all of it? I really had no clue. I didn’t have time to feel anything, because it happened too quickly. It made no sense. It was a beautiful, blooming flower yesterday and suddenly it’s gone. I sighed, knelt on the ground, and cursed the universe for doing this to me again. For making me go through all the effort just to be rewarded with the same results. My hands were torn apart from the rose’s thorns from tending to it every single day. I did not mind. Not one bit. All I wanted was for this one to stay alive.

The greenhouse was huge, but I make it a point to only ever keep one plant in it at a time. A flowering plant with a single bloom. The reason is that I never had green fingers. Everything I grew always died. If I can’t take care of one plant, why get more? But I never gave up. I always tried my best. With every new flower, I improved myself. I tended them with more care. I used better soil and better fertilizers. I’m not lying when I thought it would actually work this time.

Then I realised something. I hated myself. I hated myself because as I thought I was getting better at it, I got more attached to the bloom. I started giving it all my time, all my energy, and all my heart. Maybe this time, I just didn’t expect to be disappointed.

I let out a little chuckle. Josie was right after all. I should always be prepared to be disappointed. Oh, I could hear her taunting me already, with her “I told you so” and “Why don’t you ever listen?”

Slowly, I rose back to my feet. Josie’s going to tease me good, I can tell, but I sure as hell am going to shut her up once and for all. I’ll show her that one day, I can grow and tend to a flower so well, that I will never see it wilt till the day I die.

But here comes the hard part.

After every flower wilted, I returned to The Garden in search for a new one. I hated The Garden for two reasons. The first was that I could never search for the flower I wanted without hurting myself on thorns in the process, or crushing some along the way. The second was that it took too long for me to find a flower worthy for me to bring back to my greenhouse. My last search went on for more than a year.

I took a deep breath and walked out of my greenhouse. Before I knew it, I was at the edge of The Garden. I surveyed the place, and made myself a vow. A vow I made every single time. But this time, I will make it happen. I swear. The next time I step out of there will be my last. The next bloom I carry home doesn’t have to be perfect – they never are – but I’ll make sure I’ll care for it until my dying breath. I’ll make sure that each and every day of that bloom’s life would only ever be filled with sunshine. But if it gets dark and cold, I would sit there with it – shivering with it instead of keeping myself warm. I know I’m stupid. It’s just a flower. But what can I say. We do stupid things for those we care about.

Josie would laugh her head off if she knew what’s going on in my head.

-Izzat R.