Hello! I love Gruvia and I love depressing, dark stories, so I started another one of these sad stories!

I have zero experience with any of the stuff my story contains, so please forgive me if I am grossly depicting anything incorrectly. Also, I'm working on sentence flow and vocabulary. I'd love any advice on how to improve the story's realism or my writing ability, so feel free to PM me!

Now get ready to be unhappy-fied.

-KingRadish

Two Halves Make a Whole

Chapter 1- December 24th

We're all broken inside.

We trudge through life, carrying our damaged bodies, our fragmented hearts, trying to hide our imperfections and the jagged cracks that run across our minds, all the while searching for the bits and pieces we lost along our way.

I suppose we hurt ourselves. We gouge out our own flesh, slash away at our own bodies, again and again, and throw our pieces far, far away so we can spend the rest of our lives looking for them. Except, many times we never find them. Or maybe, we don't want to.

And sometimes, when we lose too much and there's too little left to hold us up, we just shatter.

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She didn't bother watching for traffic as she walked across the frost-kissed streets of the city. Instead, she watched people.

It was almost Christmas, she knew. The bare trees along the streets were sparkling with colourful little lights, and the lamp posts were hung with wreaths and red bows. Children wearing scarves and toques and puffy winter jackets laughed and clung to their parents' hands as their parents smiled down at them in love and joy. Couples held hands and whispered sweet words to each other, arms laden with bags of all sizes.

Her vision spun with all the colours, shockingly clear in her eyes and standing out almost psychedelically. It was giving her a headache. All the people too, walking past without a care, discussing things that needed to be done and things that they planned to do. She couldn't help but feel something like resentment bubbling up inside.

None of those smiles were for her.

Somewhere in her mind, she wondered dimly about what day it was. She could check her phone, she supposed, but it was somewhere in her apartment, in a corner and uncharged. Besides, the screen was shattered and she probably wouldn't be able to see anything past the web of white cracks.

Her memories were fuzzy around the edges, and it hurt to think about things. Maybe it was the drugs. Maybe it was the alcohol. She didn't really care. She knew she had a master's degree in something or another tucked away in one of her drawers, framed in one of those expensive frames, so she comforted herself with the thought that she wasn't stupid.

She was just tired. Just tired.

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Standing on the edge, her toes gripping the ledge through the thin soles of her favourite old sneakers, she leaned against the railing and looked up at the sky.

The setting sun was dying the sky a lovely shade of pink, and the world was getting ready to celebrate the season. At the edge of the sky, purple clouds faded into the horizon of the ocean, glittering like gold. From her perch, she could see the lights of her city, a million little eyes blinking. Behind her the sound of rushing cars mixed with the whisper of the ocean below.

What a time to die, she thought as she watched the white tendrils of her hot breath drift up into the air. Maybe it's for the best.

A soft gust blew some curly strands of her blue hair into her face, and for the first time that day, she felt cold. She'd left her apartment wearing nothing more than a thin shirt, and her body had not registered the freezing temperatures as she'd walked through the festivities. But now, far away from body heat and the warmth of life, the pain of frostbite was setting in.

Better end this quickly.

Shutting her eyes, she prepared herself for the drop, wondering what it would feel like to fly. When she was young, she'd wanted to fly, soar through the sky like a bird. The cold had brought her muddled mind a sudden clarity she had not felt for months and months, and she savored it. The fresh air tasted sweet as it she inhaled, burning her nostrils with a delicious tingle.

And then she let go. Or at least tried to.

Her fingers would not respond. Twisting herself around, she looked at her frozen hands gripping the metal railings, claw-like. Her fingertips were white and her knuckles were raw and red. She tried stepping off, but her legs were rooted to the concrete railing.

She almost laughed at how ridiculous the situation was. She couldn't live right, couldn't love right, but she couldn't even die right?

Oh, she was spiteful. She had thought that by doing this she could maybe hurt him in some way, leave him forever with this final act of defiance. This was something she did for herself, and herself only. Couldn't she even leave this twisted world behind without fate giving her a big, final fuck you? Now she imagined, with sickening realism, the vile glee and pity in his eyes if he were to see her like this. Pathetic.

As hot, hateful tears blurred her vision, she saw something coming toward her from beyond her frozen hands. A man, his dark hair in sharp contrast with his white shirt and the blue tie hanging over his shoulder.

His dark eyes were trained on her as he strolled toward her and lit a cigarette. She turned away, face burning with shame.

"Nice view?"

This struck her as funny, and she couldn't help but smile.

"What are you doing?"

She didn't answer. She couldn't. Her voice was like a bone stuck in her throat, painful and raw.

He took a long drag on his cigarette, then breathed out slowly, letting his smoke and breath hang there in the frigid air. He leaned over the metal railing and looked down at the ocean. "It's a long way down, and, you know, the scenery isn't half as great as this."

She looked down with him, then turned toward him. He was looking at her too, grinning as he shrugged off the jacket she hadn't noticed he was carrying over his shoulder. He draped it over her trembling shoulder and waved at someone else behind her. She couldn't turn her head to look anymore, and dark spots were dancing in her vision.

"Hush now, don't cry. Everything's gonna be okay."

Gentle hands brushed against her frozen skin and she felt like she was flying. She was soaring through the air with this raven angel with the tenor voice and the deep dark eyes. Then, somehow, she found herself enveloped in a warm heat, nothing like the burning pain she had felt last night.

They wrapped her in blankets and layers, till the winter chill had left her fingertips and toes and all she felt was the comfort and a love she hadn't felt for a long, long time.

She fell asleep dreaming of the clouds and the sky.

If you liked that, please drop a review or something! I have another chapter written already and I will update tomorrow!