Short Stories

Breaking Point

She looked at me expectantly. Her words echoed in my head, my chest was struck with a sharp pain.

Where do you come from?

How can someone answer such a vague question? Is it my country she wants to know about? Or perhaps my town? Or, is it my family she's curious about...?

My stomach was fluttering with butterflies. They weren't the same as when you have a crush, though. They spat an ink-like substance, dripping despair through my nervous system. Their wings were delicate but sharp, carefully slicing me apart from the inside out. Their small legs crawled up and down my organs, making me shiver and nauseous.

"Hey, are you alright?" A comforting hand touched my arm. "You look a bit pale."

"Yes... yes. I'm okay," I said after a deep breath. "I just need a minute."

She hesitated, but didn't press me any further. She was worried, that much was clear. The atmosphere was strong, pushing down on us and leaving me breathless.

There was too many things, not enough words in the dictionary to convey them. Everything was bound too tightly with mixed emotions.

"I..." Tears began running down my face. "I..."

I couldn't make it. I started bawling. She had broken through my facade, my walls. I had tried for so long so be strong, but I couldn't do it. She hugged me tightly and I burrowed my face into her shoulder. She rocked me gently, until my sobs had subsided to a faint whimper.

"It's okay," she whispered. "You're okay. Everything's going to be okay."

Everything will be okay.