So in my french class today, something came to mind and I started writing. Don’t judge me. The class was dry! Anyways, I have a short story for all you lovely people. Read and enjoy.

   I lock the doors to my house and drop the keys at the porch. I have to take a walk. It’s the only way I think I can maintain my sanity. The night is peaceful and the stars do a silent dance in the clouds above me. Inaudible whispers and quiet murmurs. It’s almost creepy. Gazing at the sky, I close my eyes and let my mind wander for a while. Let it go back to the days when all was good and I had no care in the world. I had all I wanted. Or at least I thought I did. Everything seemed to be going good. What changed exactly? I couldn’t really place it. The deep longing in my soul seemed to increase as I rummaged my brain for times past. All questions should have answers. Mine didn’t seem to have any.
    I can’t really remember most of it but I think I can recall how it all started. It was his eyes. Or was it? I’m not even sure of anything anymore. My thoughts are all muddled up and I can’t seem to get myself together. I’m dying slowly. The doctors say I have cancer. But that’s not what bothers me. I’ll have no one when I die. Thoughts of the afterlife flash through my head. I’m not sure of what I believe in. I don’t think I believe in anything. Not even myself. I touch my tummy and like always, a deep feeling of emptiness engulfs me and I want to cry. I never got to meet her but I miss her. I miss her turning and giving me teenie weenie kicks in my stomach. They said it was the best thing to do. She was just a foetus. It didn’t mean anything. But they were wrong. I still feel horrible. I remember every gory detail. I’ve named her in my head. Sarah. Sometimes I’m almost sure I hear her voice in my head. Taunting me for killing her. Or maybe it’s just my mind playing tricks on me. The hole in my heart seems too big for anything to fill. I’m just empty. Literally. Which brings me to the point I am now. The very brink of my confusion. What’s real and what’s not? What’s the truth? What’s right and what’s wrong? I’m tired of it all but I’m not ready to die yet. I still need answers. Someone taps my shoulders. Extremely startled, I turn to look at the person who gave me such a fright. It’s dark so I can’t really make out the person’s features. But it’s someone I know. As I look closely at the figure in front of me, realisation dawns slowly. So with great trepidation, I stare into the eyes that started it all. Deep and hazel. Warm and enchanting. I was right the first time. It was his eyes.



4 thoughts on “Broken

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