Short Stories

A Shattered Heart


Hello, friends! Today I have for you, another short story. I would have posted something different, but this past week I was on vacation and did not have the time to come up with something else to post.  Here you go!


(^^here is a pic I found that inspired me to write this story^^)

~ A Shattered Heart ~

She walked through the tall grass of the large open field, the wind tugging at her hair. The faded dried flowers that were intertwined in her long brown hair began to disintegrate. Her long tattered wedding dress flowed behind her. The sun beat down on her, tanning her pale skin, and she carried in her hands a single red rose. The thorns stung her hands, but she seemed not to notice it. Her face was red, not only from the hot sun but also from all of the salty tears that frequently ran down her face.

Flashbacks began to play in her mind. She began thinking of the time she had been in the grand ballroom of her home. She was dancing in her fiancé’s arms. Roses were placed everywhere, for it was the flower of love. That’s what Charlie had told her. She was in her wedding gown and he was dressed in his finest. It was the day of the wedding.

“My darling,” Charlie whispered in her ear as they continued to dance. “You know the place where we first met?” he asked her.

“Of course. How could I forget?” the young lady replied.

“On our anniversary every year I want us to place a rose on the platform at the back of the room, to symbolize our love for each other,” he told her.

“I will gladly go with you every year to place the flower of love at our favorite spot,” the girl responded happily.

Charlie smiled. “Wonderful!” he exclaimed. He spun her around and around until it was finally time for them to leave to go to the Church for their wedding ceremony.

The young lady quit imagining at that moment. She came to a wooded area near the end of the field. Not far into the green forest stood a rather old building. It was made all of stone, and there was an iron gate that stood in front of it. The lady’s trembling hands flipped open the latch that kept the gate locked. She entered through the gate and walked down the dirt path that led to the giant double doors of the stone structure. She knocked, using the rusted doorknocker. No one came to open the door for her. She stood for a moment waiting.

“Ah, he must be running late,” she said aloud. Instead of waiting for someone to come to the door she quickly opened it and walked straight to the back of the front room. On the back wall stood a white wood plank set in between two large marble pillars. On the plank laid a rose. A dead rose. Its petals were wilted and the stem looked crumbled. The girl stared at the perfectly new rose that she had brought with her. She lifted it to her nose breathing in its significant scent.

She began to imagine again, of the time when she stood at the altar on her wedding day. Her hands held in her lover’s. They had each said their vows. Just as Charlie finished saying the words “I do,” the priest announced, “You may kiss the bride!” Charlie wrapped his arms around his girl and pressed his lips to hers. They finished their kiss and ran out of the church. Everyone was applauding and cheering as they left hand in hand.

They made their way to the woods. There stood an old stone structure. They entered it and at the far end of the room stood a white wood plank placed between two marble pillars. Charlie laid the rose he had brought with him down on the wood plank. He stared at his beautiful wife for a moment. He was about to kiss her again when all of the sudden horrible noises could be heard. Dogs were barking and yelling could be heard. A gun fired. The lady glanced at her husband nervously wondering what they should do.

“Stay here,” said Charlie as he kissed her and then turned and left.

“No!” the girl shouted. She bit her lip. Another gun fired. This time she heard a man yell in pain. As quick as a flash she darted out of the stone structure. On the dirt path she stood on, also laid her husband’s dead body.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a man’s voice. “Elaine,” the man said. She quickly picked up the dead rose, and exchanged it with the new one. “Leave,” the lady told him harshly. The man walked towards her.

“Elaine,” he said yet again as he grasped her by the arm.

“Let go of me!” she shrieked as she yanked her arm free from his grasp.

“What are you doing here?” the man asked with concern in his voice. “Whatever do you mean?” asked Elaine.

“I am simply replacing the old rose with a new one just like I do every year on Charlie and I’s anniversary,” she told him.

“Elaine, Charlie is dead. There is no point in you doing this-,” the man was interrupted.

“Stop that foolish talk! Of course he’s not dead!” Elaine shouted at him. She wrapped her arms around her trembling body, trying to comfort herself. “He just wasn’t able to come with me today that’s all. He was just held up at work,” she explained. The man let out a long sigh.

“When will you quit this ritual?” he asked her. “Charlie has been dead three years now. It is time for you to move on.”

Elaine looked at him with fire in her eyes. “Never! You do not know what you speak of. Charlie is not dead, he is just simply late,” she said quietly.

“Three years too late,” the man muttered under his breath. Tears formed in Elaine’s distant green eyes. She quickly blinked them away.

“I must go now,” she said as she walked towards the large doors with the wilted rose in her hands. “Charlie will be expecting dinner to be ready when he gets home! I must tell the servants to start preparing it,” she said cheerily as she walked out the doors.

“Wait,” said the man. Elaine turned around to face him. “You must know that whatever you believe, I will always be here for you,” he told her.

“How thoughtful of you Mr. Hill. But I assure you my Charlie is there for me. I need no one else.” Elaine walked out the door.

Mr. Hill stood there in silence. He then turned to look at the rose. “She’ll never see past the reality that is blinding her. Her heart is shattered, and she can bear no more of it. But she cannot seem to let go of the past, and still feels as if he is right there with her,” Mr. Hill said this to himself. He looked one more time at the red rose that sat on the platform. Then he walked away in silence from the stone structure and knew he would never again return.


What did you think? I know there are some unanswered questions, but, I am just too lazy to add anymore to this story.  Any feedback you have for me would be greatly appreciated!

Have a great week, ladies!

jade signoff


3 thoughts on “A Shattered Heart”

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