Broken Beyond Repair

Isabella returns home with her father. Upon entering her old room, she realizes that she'll reach her end soon for she has been broken.

ISABELLA


        My vision was disappearing to a blur as tears gathered. I didn't let them escape, however. There would be no use for that. I was leaving and nothing and no one could stop this from happening. I didn't want to admit that I would never see Christopher again, even though it was clearly the truth.


One by one the trees would pass by. The bare branches were a strange grey color, rather than a bark-colored brown. They sky was in constant overcast; blackened in the distance. A heavy storm was on its way. The storm in my life was going to bring long showers from here on out. It was just something I would have to accept.



        The first month passed and I failed to use my shield. I let the pain absorb me and let it rip through my soul. I saw no point in attempting to retrieve any happiness. At night, my dreams were haunting. I only saw his face. Violently, I would claw at my sides and scratch my face. I would find bruises on my body when I woke. It was as if I was trying to rip out the pain from within me.



I wasn't successful.



I was a stranger in my family's home. My father had remarried. Upon arrival, a bleach blonde in a sundress welcomed us along with a small child with braids. The woman was not friendly to me, but welcomed my father as if she was embracing the love of her life. The little girl stood in silence, watching me.


The home was not the home I remembered. It had faded color and a few shingles were missing. Weeds grew wildly throughout what must have been a garden at some point. The lawn wasn't mowed and the doors' screen was ragged and torn. They had really let the place go.


I was left alone for the first night. I remember walking into my old room. It was exactly the same as I had left it, years ago. The comforter on the bed was the same ugly, purple and teal flower pattern my Grandmother had chosen when I was little. The long, lavender curtains had years of dust collected on them and only one bulb in the light fixture worked. The room was musky and extremely warm.


I opened the window, finding the oak tree's branches had grown. They reached the house, brushing against the windows with each gust of wind; just something else to haunt me in my slumber. I unpacked, placing every book on a shelf and my clothes in the closet.


There was no point in doing this, however, because this room would never feel like my home. It never had, even when my mother was still alive. It was 1 in the morning before I even got under the covers. I unpacked a photo of my mother and held it to my chest as I closed my eyes.


I knew it was pointless to believe in the power of prayer. That journey never worked for me. She is gone and no matter how much I want to keep a connection with her, it wasn't going to happen. Christopher had gotten through my shell, causing me to let go of my shield. She was my shield through all those years, and now it's hard for me to even hold her photograph.


It used to calm me, but now it only causes me to shake; to cry. My ability to withhold my emotions has faded. The pain of her loss, of Christopher's loss, has created its' hole within myself. I am empty; letting the pain take me whole and wishing for nothing but an end. This is how I live now; day by day I take their abusive tones and orders with no emotion for I know it will end soon. A person cannot take this pain for too long before they break beyond repair, finding their end.

Author's Note

"Oh, somethings missing in me. I felt it deep within me as lovers left me to bleed alone. " How do you like it so far? Rip me to shreds, if you'd like.