Creative Writing

Shattered

The air quivered with the sudden silence. Neither of us spoke a word. It’s strange how there can be so much sound and then such an absence of it, as if the noise literally could not last any longer. As the water slowly trickled out of the crystalline vase, now shattered on the floor, I wondered how it had gotten to this. Our relationship was made of glass, and it too laid in pieces on the ground. She looked up at me with those big brown eyes that were filled with tears and all I could do was grimace back. The words, the emotions, what I always had meant to say, how I had always truly loved her, how no matter her quirks she would be perfect in my eyes, how I couldn’t imagine life without her, they stayed locked in a vault near my heart that kept getting colder and colder. The look in her eyes was of betrayal, and all I could think was that I crushed the remains of whatever the hell this was between us into shards. The ice piercing my heart, my veins, the very core of me was becoming more intense by the second and I couldn’t melt.

“Her mother’s vase?” I cursed to myself, “Her dead mother’s damn vase, and you smash it on the ground?” The silent seconds grew into silent minutes, and I just stood like an idiot trying to think of something, anything to say without seeming like a complete and utter jerk.

“Em,” I finally started, “Em I -”

“You know what Jon?” she yelled, shattering the once still moment into yet more broken pieces, more parts to something that was too damaged to ever be fixed.

“Jon, I’m done.” The tears started to flow out of her chocolate eyes, but the look on her face scared me beyond compare. “Goodbye.” She walked out the door, stepping on the shards of the antique vase on the way out, not looking back. I stared at the floor, then looked out the door, watching the silhouette of the only thing that could thaw my frozen soul walk away.

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