Writing prompt answers

Cracks in the Pavement

Prompt: when someone's heart breaks so does a piece of our world; this creates things like fissures and valleys to even cracks in the pavement. Tell the story of the Grand Canyon.

Response:

"There was once two beings. They were genderless, much like that of angels, and they weren't defined by any fixed shape. They were almost shape shifters, and they could turn into any of what they wished. They travelled far and wide throughout the galaxies, until they came upon Earth and its people. They liked it, this chunk of rock with life, so they stayed, taking the shape of humans. And, when they became humans, they inherited the heart we have.

These beings, now humans, began to fall hopelessly in love. Until then they had just been partners, friends, if you will, exploring and being with each other. But with the new addition of a heart and body, they couldn't stop themselves. They-"
"Is there a meaning to this story, or are you just trying to bore us to death?" A student said, restless. The class stared up at me, waiting for an answer.
"Yes, Jonathan, there is. You all know what happens when a heart breaks, right?" They nodded and most raised there hands.
"Juliette." I pointed to her raised hand. "What happens when a heart breaks?" She lowered it and took a breath.
"Some of the world breaks too. Broken hearts can make valleys and lead to rivers, or just crack the concrete of a basketball court. It depends on how severe it is."
"Yes, precisely. That means that the Grand Canyon was also the product of a broken heart as well, right class?"
"Yes."
"So, before I was rudely interrupted," I shot Jonathan a glare, "I was telling you the story of how the Grand Canyon came to be." The class looked much more intrigued now. "Would you like me to finish?" I asked.
"Yes." They replied, in perfect unison, except Jonathan, who glared at his desk.
"Now, as I said, when they became human, even though before they were only friends, they couldn't stop themselves from falling in love with each other. And, when they did fall in love, they fell fast and hard. It wasn't a slow, saunter into affection, but a downward spiral so severe it was as if each had jumped off a 100 story building. People would see them and think "they're soulmates", and they'd be right. They were soulmates, and they loved each other to death.

They began to make human friends to try to fit in more (for they had literally appeared out of nowhere), and were pushed to get married. Neither understood why it was important, but did it anyway. They moved to a desert, so they could watch the sunset and enjoy each other more.

As time went on they only fell more and more blissfully in love. However, they also became more human. When they shifted into people, ever so slowly, their souls and minds were cemented into a single, contained shape. By the time they realized they were turning irreversibly into humans, it was too late. They couldn't turn back.

However, as long as they were together, it didn't matter to either. Even so, they were human now. They had to face challenges like sickness, and even if they were human illness didn't effect them the same. Their immune systems weren't as efficient and even something simple like the flu was potentially dangerous to them.

This trait also allowed for mutations to form. One day, one half of the newly wed couple was feeling particularly awful, so the couple went to a doctor. This had been happening more as they got older, so they thought nothing of it. "It's just a cold." They thought. They were wrong.

At the end of the visit, the doctor had told them he'd never seen anything like what the human had. They called in dozens of professionals over the course of months, but no one knew what it was or if they could stop it. The patient got worse everyday, and at somewhere around a year after the first visit to a doctor, one decided it was time to tell the other. Their spouse wasn't going to last much longer.

They denied it. For months, they told themselves their partner would get better. As I said before, they were the kind of couple that fell in love with each other again everyday. So, they kept telling themselves they it would be okay. They kept going to work, to pay for the medical bills, and so they had something to do but worry. The doctors kept saying that they should spend what time was left with the other, but no. Work, then to the hospital after work. Work, hospital. Work. Hospital. Work. Hospital. Work. Hospital. Everyday. For months. Until, they went to the hospital one day, and the other wasn't there.

A nurse tried to tell them it was over. They were dead. Gone.

It was o my then did it finally hit. Dead. Gone. They raced back home. Into the desert, where they had fallen in love. In the house where they learned what it was like to be human, to have something and someone to die for. To have a purpose. And now that purpose was gone. Each had lived only for the other. And now, the other had abandoned them.

There were but a few others that lived in range of sight, but anyone within almost 300 miles could tell you what they saw, firsthand.

Heart wrenching, painful, black sadness and regret ripped through the remaining lover. Everything was pointless, pointless without them.
The ground started to shake. Loose rocks were crushed into dust and a noise that sounded like a plane crashing sliced through the air. A crack, through the center of the house began to open. Bigger, bigger, bigger. The Earth split beneath the broken soul as if it were sand. Houses ripped apart and people fell off the edge. The hole got larger and larger, until the house with broken memories and unbearable pain fell completely into the center. Down, down, down, killing the one tortured with misery.

The shaking stopped. The next day, new reporters and civilians and tourists would swarm to the newly formed canyon, trying to get the story. For weeks, people from around the world would come and see it, touch it, wonder how it must've felt, how much sadness it took to create this work of art. People still, go out and revel in it mastery. And, if you find the right spot, you might even be able to get a glimpse, find a shred, of the house that started and stopped it all."

I stopped pacing the room to look at my students. They all looked amazed. Even Jonathan was paying attention now. He raised his hand and I pointed to it.
"Yes, Jonathan?"
"What was the sickness?" I walked to my desk in the center front of the room, still facing the children's desks.
"What sickness?" He put his hand down.
"The one that killed the partner."
"Oh." I kept my voice steady, tried to keep from sounding sad. "Well, there is a scientific name for it which I'm not familiar with, but the citizens of the Earth call it, "cancer". The class gasped.

I fixed some papers on my desk,
"I told this story for a reason class," I looked up at them again, "would you like to know what my reason is?" I asked. They all nodded eagerly. "I told you this story because I want you to know, in this world, you can make any mark you want. It doesn't have to be the size of the Grand Canyon, because a mark is a mark all the same. However, in this fragile world we live in, people think the only way to leave a mark is through pain and suffering, but that is largely false. It's true that in this world, through pain, we chip the surface, make it our own. I told you this story because you all know, we can leave our mark through heartbreak. But that's not the only way. I told you this story so you understand that leaving a mark doesn't mean heartbreak, and if you do leave one due to heartbreak, let it teach you a lesson.

If you happen to have your heartbroken, don't let the mark you leave define you. The crack you make in the pavement should not remind you each time of your pain. Let it remind you of how you overcame it. Faced it, fought it, won. I want you to know that each and everyone of you, have the power to get up again. I want you to know, that strong people make cracks in the world and move on. Weak people make cracks in the world and fall into them. Be strong. Get your heart broken ten times, make ten cracks, make a valley, make a canyon even, then move on.

Don't let the chips and fissures and cracks you create define you. You define them, and keep going.

Remember, strong people don't fall into their misery, weak people do. You all are strong, I know it. It's you're job to prove me right."

The bell to leave rang, and the class filed out. On my way home, I walk over cracks in the pavement. Most are of average length and depth, but one isn't. One stretches almost the entire length to my house, and it's almost a half foot deep. I avert my eyes and try not to remember.

That one was from me. That's why I tell my students what I tell them. Don't fall into misery. Flip misery off. So I did. And I do. And I will. Because there can only be one Grand Canyon in this world, and I'm not about to make another one.