Broken Glass

Chapter 1: In the Beginning

"I starred at my reflection in the shattered glass my face reflected in thousands of fragments. People are right when they say the eyes are the window to the soul, I started at the glass aimlessly gazing into my own eyes Death and Guilt stare back at me. I finally came to the conclusion that these are my demons but I am no closer to peace. People always say "oh Selene you have such pretty eyes" but they are wrong, if ones soul is really emitted through ones eyes, then my eyes are my ugliest feature."

The morning that it happened violent storms shook the heavens the sky was dark and the humid air made it hard to breath. I had a strong urge to call in claiming some sort of physical ailment, but I knew Guilt would consume me. I left the house at last, dragging my feet behind me, dreading every step I took. The rain fell in sheets, I thought of each individual rain drop as the souls of those who have died. Each soul falling from the heavens onto the Earth, accumulating in puddles, rolling off the dying leafs that hung from the damn near bare trees.

Last Summer my parents died I don't recall how, it hurts whenever I try to think about it, like a steel hammer repeatedly striking a nail into my thoughts pinning them down to the point where I forget my own name sometimes. My parents where apart of the working class, so we weren't poor but we were not exactly rich either. So when they died and I got to "inherit their riches" they left me a nineteen-seventy five red Corvette, some old childhood toys and my mother left me her necklace, and that's all I can remember about them. A glance at the time summoned me back to reality, it was seven-fifty, work started in forty minutes. It's funny how life can fall so quickly, it was like a pen dropping in a silent room; the sound so off putting so unorthodox, that everyone turns and gazes upon your vapid expression forced upon your face. Their judgments scrawled about their faces, the disgust so strong you could taste it, that slimy feeling in you gut, rot in the back of your mouth, all eyes are on you in this moment, and it seems to last forever. I was supposed to be a famous business woman everything was supposed to go as I planned; I was young, the world was supposed to be mine. Instead life and fate got together to make a fool out of me, To trick me. There I was in the middle of their show, thinking I was Houdini. Wait it gets worse, after thinking about it you could actually say I was Houdini. I let life repeatedly punch me in the gut, thinking I could withstand each strike but eventually that same hit i thought I could take killed me. My own ignorance, arrogance, carelessness was my downfall. I finally got in my car after standing in the rain for the past ten minutes, contemplating the principles of life and what not.

I'm pretty sure all cars have an odor but my car fermented an odor of Death and roses I tried to find out what foul object was emitting this odor, but I ended up compromising with myself to get it cleaned after work, even though I knew it probably wouldn't get done till some unknown time next week. my thoughts were so tangled up that I walked into work tripping over my own feet. I had a bad feeling about the day but I dismissed it being as how I never have a positive outlook on a majority of the events that occur in my life.

Statistically speaking over five-thousand banks a year get robbed not including other countries, so I am never completely comfortable working the front desk as a teller where all the people come to you face to face, reaching out their sickly fingers asking for cash. Their Greed emulated through their actions, the woman biting her lip or impatiently bouncing on her left leg, looking around nervously as if she can't wait another second or she will lose her mental bearings.

Monday morning June 6, 2029, 11:58pm. To say I was took by surprise is a lie, The man in black walked in with an aura about him that made my skin cringe. The clothes he wore made me scratch the metal surface of the desk, the sound made me sick to my stomach. The man in black looked at me with a look that let me know that I just set off a chain of events that I would not be able to undo. The man in black pulled the gun from under his shirt and pointed dead at me, looking me dead in the eye. His aura shrouded the room in silence everyone seemed to feel the effects. Six other men simultaneously pulled weapons from obscure places on their body and began to point at people, uttering vile phrases and sick words.