Broken Poetry

Countdown to Love

In the corner of my vision, a light beeps red. Blaring at me, trying to catch my attention, and it succeeds. I glance at my wrist, where a timer counts down like a constantly changing tattoo. Every second, hour, day and year passes by. The closer I get to the final number, the more I wish to see the one I can call my lover. The numbers beep red meaning I have one week left until the day I meet my soulmate, the one who was made for me. A smile creeps into my bones and a laughter builds in my stomach, fluttering around as if trying to find a way out. I celebrate the time on my wrist while it continues to count down as I sit on the floor with a note in my hand.

Derek, the person who writes me notes and leaves them at the old home down the street. We leave them in a hidden box so only we can find the notes and write back to one another. We flirt, joke, and write paragraphs of sweet, love filled words about our affection for one another. It is very likely that he is my lover, I just haven't seen him yet.

The timer ticks down to the moment our eyes meet, not the moment we discover each other, meaning he could be the one for me.

I scribble down more love filled words, covering the page with small little drawings and notes.

Dear Derek,

Though I may not be the most beautiful girl, I believe that looks do not matter and our love is true. My timer just met one week similar to how yours met a week and a half. Maybe we are destined to be?

You asked for a description of my features, and here I will give them to you along with a photo of myself. I have black hair that frames my face in a short pixie cut, I stand at 5'6 versus your 6'2. You are very tall and I find that enjoyable. The photo should show the rest.

Also, I would love to meet you at the time you have given me, it seems to align with the time of my timer. I'm just so delighted that I can finally find my lover!

Love,
Elliot

I gently place the picture inside the paper and carefully put it in the box. I put the box back under the floor and brush off my jeans before walking back home with a happiness in my steps.

Just one more week.

~

A few days have passed since I have last visited the old home, and I return to its dust filled air and rusted metal door handles. Slowly creeping the door open, I go inside and pull out the box, excited for a reply.

Dear Elliot,

My timer matches up with yours.

You are a beautiful girl and your short hair makes you even cuter than I imagined you to be. In the box, I left a photo of myself even though looks do not matter.

I will meet you in a few days! You'll finally be in my arms.

Love,
Derek

Slowly, I pull the photo out of the box and inspect it as if it were the only piece of evidence to a mystery. He was an average, normal looking man with bleached blonde tips to his hair. Otherwise, it was black like mine. His smile was nearly perfect and his shoulders seemed large, like he was a big, masculine man.

Excitedly, I squealed. With happy filled hands, I write a quick reply and skip home in awe of the future to come.

~

My wrist beeps red, one hour before I meet my lover. I stand in front of my mirror, dressed in the nicest pair of jeans I own and a semi formal sweater that hugs my body in a flirtatious way. I pull on my boots, and walk down the street to the old home no one uses. I stand in the clutter of dust and dirt as I wait with excitement as my timer ticks down.

Thirty minutes left, but someone walks in. Tall, dark haired followed by Derek and I know something is wrong.

Derek tackles my small, fragile body to the floor and places a black sack over my head. My heart races in my chest and my blood turned to ice in my veins. I screamed and screamed for them to let me go, but one of them hauled me over their shoulder and began to walk out the door where a car could be heard outside.

Crying with my head in the sack, I struggle to breathe with the lack of fresh air when I suddenly fall to the floor.

I wince in pain as my head hits the ground before sounds of a battle surround me. The crunch of fists landing on bones fills my ears followed by grunts of pain.

My head spins inside the sack, dizzy from the rush of adrenaline in my body and I slowly ooze out of consciousness.

~

I wake up in a bed, blue sheets and black walls. I look at my timer. Three seconds left.

Slowly I get up, and just as I reach to open the door, it swings open and the timer hits zero.

In front of me was a man with dark skin and a bruised face. His timer beeping the same green color as mine before disappearing from his flesh.

"U-um, H-hi." And I fell in love.