Shattered and broken.
The flower vase had shattered and broken.
It had fallen to the cold hard ground and shattered.
Water soaked through my sock and glass cut into my hands as i knelt down on the ground.
Red stained my hands.
Red stained my pants.
Red stained my shirt.
Red stained my mind.
I closed my eyes and rubbed my hands over my face.
I wiped more blood onto my shirt and continued to pick up the glass.
"ELLA!"
The voice was loud.
Loud and angry.
Angry and sad.
sad and scary.
My heart sped up and my hands began to shake.
Tears fell from my eyes and into a small cut on my hand.
It stung, but I ignored it.
Footsteps thumped loudly down the hall.
Loud.
Loud and close.
I'd picked up all the broken glass by the time the door had swung open, but it didn't stop her.
It didn't stop her from hitting me.
I didn't feel the pain of the hit.
Instead, I stared numbly at the torn up white rose on the wooden floor.
Blood stained it's petal.
Making it broken, but yet beautiful.
