King of Glass

Fractured

(Quick warning, I'm not too familiar with the French Language, so please, give advice if something needs to be corrected.)

I picked the pieces of myself from the floor, panic racking my mind. Why was I collapsing? I was so careful...

I stared horrified, picking up each piece as it fell, hurrying to place it back in it's correct position, fitting it together like a puzzle.

I don't know who I am, or why I am tearing apart. I don't know why my mind shatters like glass and lays upon the floor, mocking my ignorance, mocking my condition. Perhaps, if I piece it together in a new way, all would be restored. I'll stop falling apart, it'll once again be okay for me to exist.

I picked up the shards of my mind, gently placing them back into their proper places. In mirror, I could see the reflection of myself. Glass, reflecting the mirror thousands of times. I'm shattering and I can't slow it down.

Oh, how I wish a man of glass could cry, could feel, could truly recollect who he is. It seems almost impossible, but maybe I can. I have to find myself, and perhaps the mirror is a clue. Things are always more than they seem, right?

I glanced around for my outfit, the one sewn finely with iron rods. It'll protect me, it has for ages now.

I paced, unable to locate where I had placed it, unless it was already being worn. I can't remember, but I require that protection, perhaps more. So fragile, so easily shattered, I can't break. If someone runs into me, I could potentially shatter. 

I tried to recollect my thoughts, calm myself. 

Perhaps, I'm panicking too much, I might be able to hold myself firm. I looked to the mirror again, hoping that the cracks would be gone, but only more had made their arrival. I swore, backing away. Easy steps lead me away from the mirror and out the door.

"Sire," A voice seemed to ring.

I turned frantically, covering myself with my arms, hoping that the holder of the voice would leave me alone, stay away from me.

"Monsieur, s'il te plaît...(Mister, please...)" 

I held out a hand as they approached. "Non! Non! Reste en arrière! (Stay back!)" 

The man froze in his tracks and I backed away a few steps. I shook my head, catching the small pieces that fell. I had to get away, find someway to get the pieces to stick together. They seemed to be tired of holding themselves together, I seem to be getting more tired of holding myself together. 

The fractured pieces only seemed to shatter the more I moved. I've grown far too fragile to stay like this. I need to order for more fitted outfits, with more iron rods to hold me together. 

Nothing too hard!

"Monsieur, Je sus inquiet (Mister, I'm concerned). Comment ça va (how is it going)?"

"Je tombe en morceaux (I'm falling apart)!! Je ne peux pas rester ensemble (I can't stay together)!!" I cried, hugging myself tightly, keeping the fractures together, making sure no more hit the floor. 

I stared at my hands, taking a shaky breath as they shone in the light. Glass, everything is glass. I sighed, backing away, as if I wanted to hide from myself. Perhaps I did, perhaps I just wanted this to end.

I can't handle this anymore, I can't stand not knowing who I am. I can't handle trying not to break anymore. I sat down, feeling more defeated than I ever had.

"Votre Majesté..." 

I glanced up to the one who had spoken. Majesty? Was I being addressed as such?

"... Oui?"

"Votre Majesté, tu as besoin de te calmer (Your Majesty, you need to calm down)."

I took a deep breath, letting my eyes close. Perhaps, I riddled, it might be best if I do so. Feeling calm, feeling sturdy, surely that would hold a man of glass firm in his wits. I looked back to the one who had spoke to me, and I offered him a seat. 

He approached and gently placed a hand on my back. But, strangely, no glass seemed to break. I smiled, relieved that the gesture had not damaged further what as already so sensitive to manipulation. 

"Quel est ton nom (What is your name)?"

"Oliver de Clisson. Votre conseiller (Your Advisor)."

"Mon conseiller?" 

"Oui." Oliver eased himself down beside me, a soft smile resting on his lips. I pity that I did not know the man, for he seemed so kind to offer such gratitude at such a time. I watched as he rested a careful hand over my lower arm, and I stared dubiously. One wrong move and I could fall to pieces. 

"Avez-vous peur de vous effondrer (are you afraid of collapsing)?

I smiled almost painfully as I looked to my feet. "Je suis (I am)." 

I looked back to the kind man, searching his eyes for mockery, searching to see if there was any sign of taunting. All I could see was honesty, friendship in the man's eyes. He was trustworthy. He wouldn't contribute to large mass of damage bestowed upon this hallow skin I carry.

"S'il vous plaît, n'ayez pas peur (Please don't be afraid). Vous êtes fort et courageux (you are strong and corageous)! Vous seriez très difficile à briser (you would be very difficult to break)."

"Ma peau est déjà craquelée et cassée (My skin is already cracked and broken)..." Scanning over, it was easy to tell I told the truth. There was cracks everywhere, more forming with the second. The more I thought about it, the faster the cracks seemed to appear.

"Vous ne craquez pas, c'est un tour de l'esprit (you do not crack, it is a trick of the mind)."

I was almost shocked by the man's words. I was cracking and breaking- was he blind to the point he could not see what I was. "Quoi (What)?"

"Examinez-vous, vous verrez (Examine yourself, you will see)."

I took a closer look. There was no cracks, no breaks, no falling bits. The glass was holding steady, keeping secure. I was completely shocked by such a discovery, and I laughed aloud. "Je ne suis pas fauché (I'm not broke)!"

Vous êtes très fort, monsieur (You are very strong, sir). Tout ira bien (Everything will be alright)." Oliver offered another smile before gently patting my back. "Reposez-vous (Rest). Vous avez besoin de récupérer (You need to recover)."

I nodded softly, gently grazing my fingers over my skin.

I wasn't so breakable anymore.

I wasn't fractured.

Perhaps, I'll be okay as a King of Glass.