A Collection of Stories

Broken Glass

"If you just keep this picture safe, then I will be fine. It's a temporary trip; just remember that. And when I come back, we will always be together." Tom looked down at me before wiping a tear off my red cheeks. I nodded, taking the small frame in my hands, staring at the picture it encased. Two people stood happily beside each other, the boy leaning down to kiss the girl's head, as she laughed at his stupid jokes. I stroked the picture before placing it in my coat and looking up towards Tom. He was tall, with eyes almost blacker than asphalt, and hair darker than soot. "How do you know," I sobbed, "that in two years, you will even love me?" He smiled and pulled me close against his chest, whispering in my ear, "Because no matter how many women I see, you're the only one I will ever stare at. And no matter how many nagging female voices I hear, yours will be the loudest, and the only one that sticks. And because I will never find anyone who is quite as strong as you. I love you." I nodded, accepting his words. "If you don't come back, or you die, then I will kill your dog." I said, gesturing to his dog, Laya. Tom laughed, and looked back towards the plane. "It's time, Anne. I have to go." I looked away, putting my hand on the picture in my pocket. "Go," I said, "I wouldn't want you to be late for India. This mission trip is important." I forced a smile, and he looked at my eyes sadly. "Goodbye," he said softly. He kissed me softly before backing away. I stood watching him leave, before saying, "I love you too." But he didn't hear me. I was too late. He got on the plane, and flew away.

Two Years Later
I scratched Laya behind her ears absentmindedly as I sat on the floor filing papers. The news was droning on behind me, and my eyes drifted up towards a small picture sitting on the edge of my window. I smiled to myself and went back to my work, but soon after I began, Grey, my cat, jumped onto the window, knocking down the happy couple, and causing the glass to shatter on the floor. "Damn it Grey! Go away." I picked up the picture and placed it back on the table. I sighed and spoke to Laya, "I guess now I have to go buy a new frame." The dog just stared up at me with curious eyes. I shook my head in defeat and went back to organizing my papers on the floor, but a headline on the TV grabbed my attention. The blonde newscaster looked somberly at the camera as she spoke, "We have just received breaking news that a flight carrying young individuals from a mission trip in India back home has crashed. There are individuals thought to be alive. Please stay tuned as we will update this story as it unfolds."
I blinked once. Twice. Confusion sprinkled over my features, but it soon turned to fear that escalated into dread. Tom was coming home from India today. I was supposed to meet him at the airport tomorrow morning. My eyes filled with tears, and I heard my phone ring behind me. INTERNATIONAL AIR was written as the caller ID. "No. No. No." I whispered. I picked up the picture, and stared at it through the shattered glass, suddenly remembering what Tom said: "As long as you keep this picture safe, then I will be fine." The phone continued to ring, but I didn't want them to confirm what I already knew. My hands shook, and tears fell down my face, but Tom wasn't there to wipe them away. The broken glass cut my hands, but I only gripped the picture tighter, watching my blood trickle down my arm, splattering on my tile floor. I don't know how long I stood like that, but when I came to my senses, my blood had mostly dried, and I was in clear need of medical attention. My eyes wouldn't stop watering, and when I drove to the hospital, they automatically assumed it was because of the pain. But they didn't understand that I wasn't in any physical, measurable pain. I wanted them to understand. But they never would. The doctors sent me home in the morning, not even noticing my grief. I walked into my house, and saw Laya sleeping quietly on her mat in the corner, as if she didn't think her owner was dead. Tom's own dog didn't understand.

One Year Forward

I jogged silently alongside Laya listening to music blast in my ears. My life was getting easier, and I accepted Tom's death. I didn't pay attention as I thought about work and past events, when I ran into someone. "I'm sorry," I said quickly, "I didn't see you there." He chuckled, "Well you're the only one I see." I was shocked. Some idiot was flirting with me. I felt his hand touch my shoulder and reacted instinctively, turning towards him and smashing my fist into his nose before running the opposite direction, back towards my house. He groaned, but soon began to follow me, yelling at me to wait. I ran faster and finally made it to my house, where I locked the door and shut the curtain. Before long, though, I heard  incessant knocking on my door.
"I only have one question," said the man, "why didn't you kill Laya when I didn't show up?" My eyes widened and I opened the door, finally looking at my offender. Tom's crooked smile was adorning his strong featured face, "You didn't answer me about a year ago, when I tried to tell you I missed my flight, and since then, you have blocked all calls from international places. Why?"
I brought him inside my house, and explained everything to him. I was crying, but I didn't care. Tom was back. When I told him about the broken frame, he chuckled, "But you kept my picture safe. Only the frame broke. Even if things crumble around us, it doesn't mean we fall apart too." I smiled for the first time in a year, realizing the truth to his words. "I love you." I said truthfully, causing him to smile and lean closer. "I love you too." he said, and I realized for the first time that we were so much more than broken glass.

Written by greentealows

Blue, it's your turn to bat.