Heartless

Overcome by the might of anxiety, she could no longer contain her tears. The man of her affection, her one true love, had ripped her heart from her chest and forcefully trampled upon it as it lay on the cold hard ground. He kicked it, spat upon it, as it beat and bled as if still within her chest. She buried her face into her sweaty palms for she could do nothing but whimper and weep.

She no longer had a soul, a lifeless living body she was. Her eyes dulled as she awaited death, longing for freedom from this hell called earth. Her tears slid down her slightly soiled cheeks as she struggled to remain stoic. He may have conquered her heart but she still had a slight sense of dignity. Certainly she would not grant him the satisfaction of witnessing her vulnerability.

Her chapped swollen lips quivered as the north wind brushed his winter kiss upon them. She shivered from the cold and quivered with fear, but she decided she must remain stoic as a stone. She tried to shrug off the pressure despite the non-literal lack of a vital organ, but the pain was too great. The wound out of which the heart was taken bled and fell victim to the sheer cold night.

Her black and blue eye throbbed ever slightly as her battered lungs rattled beneath a fractured rib cage. She laid upon the ground in a fetal position, cradling her knees and biting her lips to help silence her cries. Her father stood over her shriveling soul, gazing at his bloodied knuckles. His daughter’s blood drenched his quivering hands. His eyes widened as his heart began to pound. He knelt to the ground and sat beside his daughter.

“S-Samantha…” He stuttered, “I’m so sorry…”

She refused to look at him, her eyes remained buried behind her long black bangs to help conceal her tears. The only important man within her heavily isolated life, had beaten her. Broken her. Shattered her spirit. The smell of whisky was in his breath and the smell of cigarette smoke clung to his clothes. His hair was a mess and gradually graying. His dark green eyes buried behind scratched up glasses with deep dark bags lingering beneath them.

He picked her up gently and cradled her within his scrawny arms. He down at his daughter, and wiped away a speck of blood from a crevice within her cracked lips. He drew her closer and closer to him and checked for a pulse, she was alive and conscious. Though now she lack the simple ability to muster enough strength to sit up or even speak.

Ashamed that he let the alcohol and his temper get the best of him, he hung his head low as he brushed aside his daughter’s bangs. Her eyes seemed gazed and rather unresponsive to her surroundings. Her father spoke softly, murmuring with complete nonsense from the alcohol that ran deep within his bloodstream.      

“S-Sammy,” he cried, “My little g-girl…”

Slowly she moved and broke free from his gentle grasp, tears streaming down her pale bloodied face. She limped a few feet away from his and turned away from him, seemingly intently focused upon the floor beneath her bare feet. Her lips quivered as she struggled to find the right words. 

“I-I,” she finally spoke, “h-hate you-u…”

Her father eyes widened as tears grew present from his tear ducts.  His heart split in two.