Reasons to Live - a collection of flash fiction stories

Broken Things

I see her reaching, her arms are long, pale, like swan wings in need of flight.

I hear her calling, her voice echoes in her heart, in the very, very marrow of what aches within her. Though no sound comes out, I can see the words written on her lips so loud and clear.

I know she has been drinking again. Bottles litter ever speckle of ground between and her and I. If I could collect all the drops she's drunk I could weave myself a ladder, clamber up to the Heavens and scream out to whoever may be residing there that she is killing her life away. She's killing us.

I want to tell her I love her but emotions get in the way. I want to bandage up her broken soul but all I do is take more and more pieces away for my own foolish gain.

I want to move towards her, break down walls and have her touch me with her swan-like hands. I want to turn up the sound of her voice and allow her to howl over me of the hell she's feeling.

I want to tell her things will be ok but I was never one to pollute her with lies. I wish I could lie. I wish... I wish I could.

Her eyes search for answers. Her heart fragments as moments pass her by, pulling her deeper and deeper into years she will have to answer for.  

'What have you done with this one wild and precious life I have given you?' She knows God will ask, but at the same time she wants to push Him away, to shout that He has never been there, but she knows it may just be a lie.

I want to shield her from herself. I want to set the world alight so that she'll know that darkness is not forever. I want to make her happy but I have always loved beautiful and broken things.