Her broken pieces.


Where is Jane?” I asked myself this question uncountable times. Jane is one of my bestfriends and though we were in different schools, we were always together. It was exam week and I hadn’t heard from her in a while and it’s usually not her type not to text or call me just to make some funny comments/jokes about everything.

dials her number…phone rings No one picks…dials again (goes to her voicemail)  Ok this is getting weird.

So I put on my coat after my last exam and I go to her place. I knocked but no answer. I always have her spare keys so I open the door.

Good Lord! This apartment is in shambles! Jane…where the hell are you?

Walking through her place feels like participating in a Total Wipe Out episode. I manage to make my way to her room. I knock and after a while, I decide to get in. To my greatest dismay, there she was…lying on the floor looking so wreckless, shaggy, helpless, forsaken, distressed. I ran towards her, trying to stare at her face…

Jane, what’s wrong with you? I’ve been trying to call you and you wouldn’t reply my texts. Girl, talk to me.

Nothing. Her gaze was empty, she watched the white wall. She was excavated, it was like talking to a ghost. I knew asking further questions would be useless so I sat by her side, placed my arms around her and waited. There was this awkward silence, you could feel the emotions filling the environment. It was scary, like someone screaming for help yet you couldn’t hear their voice. I patted her, I wanted her to sense my presence, to embrace my love, to pour out herself to me. And behold, she let out a full cry, it literally wrecked me.

Sammy, I can’t do this anymore. I just can’t” and tears came rolling down her eyes. I held her close. Her cry was one of pain, shame, disgust, frustration, doubt, fear, anger. I felt all of those and I hated myself for not being there for her when she needed me the most. But I was here now, so I was gonna fill that space up. I gave her time cuz that’s what she needed. Time to calm down, time to get herself together and be able to talk, time to speak truely and freely. Then she started talking…

I don’t know what I’m doing, where I’m going, what I need, what I want, what my life should be, my dreams. Nothing! I’ve had aspirations but for the past 6 years, I’ve lost a grip of myself, of my life. I’ve settled for less, done the unimaginable, broken trust, broken hearts and I’ve been so low. I’m alive but I ain’t living. My emotions get the better of me. Mistakes? It’s like I was born to make them. To get away, I started drugs, weed, drinks, anything possible to make me forget. My family no longer knows what to do with me, for me. I have been in many abusive relationships and each time, each day, each moment, I let them, permit them, offer myself to them to use me. Over and over again.

She let out another terrific cry. She was broken. She could spend all day/night talking about her life, troubles, experiences, setbacks. She needed someone to talk to. And I was here for her. I was dumbfounded. She was one of my bestfriends but I just realized I didn’t really know her. Well I did, but partially. She…we shared everything except her hurt moments. She never let a single sign of unhappiness. She was always good, we were always good. But deep down, she was in pieces and I couldn’t help but break with her…

I hate myself, I hate every little specimen, every fragment, every unit in me. Fuck life! Fuck love! Fuck me! I’m such a mess, a mess, a mess!! ” and she breaks down again. The warm/cold tears fell on my shoulder. She needs it, she needs me, I can’t let her go, I can’t leave her. She turns and stares at me, as if she was searching for some ray of light, some hope in my eyes…

Sammy, am I really a bad person? You know, I’ve thought about it and I possibly can’t be made from God. Like how is it even comprehensible? I don’t have any love in me, neither for myself nor for others. What’s the need to live if all I put on the table is hurt, pain, shame, disrespect, bad reputation? I just deserve to die. Just let me die so everyone will be at peace. I won’t cause trouble again. I promise you”

Tears filled my eyes. “Jane, you are not a bad person. Ofcourse not. Don’t say that. You are not alone.  I love you, your parents love you, God loves you.” At this point, I couldn’t help it. Words were not enough, could never be. I held her closer and we cried together. Then I remembered Mathew West’s song “Mended” and I started singing the chorus to her..

When you see broken beyond repair
I see healing beyond belief
When you see too far gone
I see one step away from home

When you see nothing but damaged goods
I see something good in the making
I’m not finished yet
When you see wounded, I see mended

Jane was broken and I held her broken pieces. She didn’t know it yet, but she’ll be mended soon enough. To the sweet humming, our breaths lowered, she felt calm, I was calm. I didn’t let her go. She felt a little relieve. Her thoughts still lingered and I could feel her nails clung to my skin. She had kept in so much. She was scared but my presence reassured her.  To the silence of the night, we fell asleep…

This is a short fiction. Please give me your feedback and if I should continue with the story. Thank you guys. God bless.

Sammy J.


34 thoughts on “Her broken pieces.

  1. I would have thought it was a real story it’s so touching please make sure Jane understand that it’s not the end of the world actually she’s got a lot of people who loves her looking forward to chapter 2

    Liked by 1 person

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