Cyclone

Glass

Glass
Life is like glass; delicate. One false step and it will slip out of your hands, shattering. A million pieces of you, too sharp for you to put back together. So don't let go. Hold onto life because you only live one, and once it's gone, you can't get it back.
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I waited. My heart in traumatising pain, as though it was getting stampeded by a hord of bloodthirsty monsters. The clock moved. A slow click sound emanating from it; escalating around the room like a wirlwind through the silence.

My heart drums to the beat of it, a melancholic tune, thrumming through my ears as my breathing rate increased.

And that's when I heard it: a steady knock on the door.

I rose shakily to my feet, choking back a sob as I saw my reflection. My greying brown hair, long down my back, in a rats nest. Green eyes rimmed red with tear tracks staining my cheek, like rivulets. A single tear lingered on the bridge of my nose.

A sigh escaped my lips.

The door creaked as I opened it. Standing on the porch was an old man with almost white balding hair, and a snake grey beard. His eyes were filled with sorrow, but his smile radiated warmth, as though one touch would send hope surging through you.

I looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to explain the reason for him being at my home. And that's when he spoke the words that broke me, killing me like a gun shot.

"I'm sorry, Mrs Shandler, but I'm afraid your son didn't make it. We tried everything we could, but he died from blood loss."

That's when the world died : the trees turned grey from their vibrant shade of green, the sky churned with stormy clouds, and the grass and flowers were drained of colour.

The world dissolved into darkness around me as I was forced and dragged into the black abyss that was sleep.

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I learned to move on from that day; keep moving forward that's my motto keep moving forward. Sprint through life, fast enough so that no one can turn you back and question your choices or accuse of certain events. Sprint through life, but forget to hold on tight to that sheet of glass, because that glass is your life.