Fractured

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The low light of the moon filtered in through the window on this cloudless night. Sat with his head hanging over his sink was a pale man, his skin sallow with heavy bags under his weary eyes. A long, wispy exhale escaped his lungs as he stared into his reflection in the broken mirror before him. His figure was broken into fragments, dividing along the cracks as words finally filled the air. “Who am I?”

Sat at his desk, the same man typed away on his keyboard. The noise of his workplace fading away as the percussion of his keys kept his mind focussed on the task at hand. Hours on end went by, the man working tirelessly with a blank expression on his face. Even when his phone would buzz with an alarm, even when his coworkers would try to shake him out of his trance for lunch, he’d just have an empty expression on his face the entire time.

Called into his boss’s office at the end of the work day, he was given his paycheck and was told to sit down. “Look. I’ve been noticing a trend in your performance recently, and it’s far too impactful to ignore at this point. I’m sorry, but we’re going to have to let you go.” Those words, though they brought pain, only managed to get a resigned frown to form on the man’s face. He quietly took his things, leaving the building and heading home.

It was a windy Autumn day as the man walked down the road, hands in the pocket of a jacket to keep them warm. There was some skip in his step, his fingers running around the seam of a box he kept hidden. The beating of his heart quickened as he looked around, piles of leaves near every home he passed, trees lining the road with bare branches, and the sickening amount of pumpkin spice as every store tried any way they could think of to cram it into their products. Then he stopped, seeing a figure waiting for him by the entrance of a park.

They strolled for a while, their shoes crunching against a few leaves that fell onto the stone path that wound around the park. Finally, as the sun reached its zenith in the sky, the man’s partner took his hand gently in theirs, looking them right in the eye. “I… I don’t think it’s going to work out anymore. We’ve known each other for years, and I know that we’ve been dating for a while, but I can’t see you as anything more than a friend. I’m sorry…” Words that pierced into his heart, his lips trembling as he tried to hide how hurt he felt. “But, we’ll still be friends, okay? I mean, nothing really changed between us when we started dating, and I hope the same thing happens in reverse.” With that, the two parted ways. The man just stood there in stunned silence as he quietly stared out at the vast sky.

“With 5 seconds left on the clock, Alvares takes a shot! And it’s in! Ladies and gentlemen, that’s it! It’s over! The Archers win the championship finals!” A voice said over the speakers as half of the stadium erupted in cheers. The sound of camera shutters and flashes got louder as the teams entered the hallway toward their locker rooms. After some cooling off, the athletes slowly filtered out one by one.

“Hey, are you going to go to the party?” One of the athletes said, approaching him as he placed a hand on his shoulder. Shaking his head, the man looked up at the sky then down at his watch; it was getting late. “I see, you’re going back to your apartment. Hey, sorry if this is sudden, but would you mind if I came along with you. I don’t really want to go to the party either, but it’s kind of sad to celebrate the victory all alone in my apartment.” The man nodded in response, walking over to the bus stop to wait alongside his teammate.

The two arrived, the man switching on the TV to fill the air with some background noise as he headed into the kitchen to see if he had any food. “I don’t have much. Want a can?” He asked, holding out a 6 pack of some beer. The two sat on the couch, watching the TV absentmindedly as time slowly ticked away. Come midnight, the two had gone through 18 cans between them, still staring at the TV while mumbling about whatever came to their minds. “You know, we’ve been together for so long… I can’t think of my life without you there at this point.” He said, putting down his half filled can while looking at his companion for the night. “Just… stop me if you don’t want it, but I want to spend the re-” His sentence was smothered by a kiss that led off into the dark expanse of the night.

“Son! Son! I’m so proud of you.” A woman said, running up to a teen that looked like the man. “I don’t have the words to tell you how happy I am… a scholarship!” Tears were streaming down her face as she pulled him into an embrace. Not long after, he followed her with his own crying. “You’re going to have to live on your own from now on… but if anything happens, Mommy’s always here for you to come back to.”

“Okay… If only he could see me now.”

The static of an old TV blared out in the night. The loud snoring of an old man called over a child that was no older than 10 years old. “Huh? Wuh? Oh, what time is it?” He asked, looking toward the boy as he switched off the TV.

“8:30. Mommy says that dinner will be ready soon.” The kid said, happily skipping away now that he said what he needed to.

“Matthew, what do you want to be when you grow up? Do you want to be a cook like mommy?” The question had the kid frozen in his tracks. He hummed and hawed, his face contorting in expressive expressions as he tapped a finger on his chin.

“I just want to make people happy. It doesn’t matter what I do.” The kid said, hopping toward the dining room of this old and quiet house.

“Making people happy. If only it were that easy.” The man mumbled to himself, still staring at the fractured reflection in the mirror. “Make people happy… Perhaps it’s best that I start over. Damn it!” He yelled, slamming his hands onto the sink and sending shards of the mirror tumbling onto the floor as it reverberated up the wall. Each shard holding a smaller image of himself within them.

No matter how big; no matter how small. It was still him.

“Hmm?” He wondered to himself, carefully picking up one of the shards and holding it up to the light. “Do you know the answer?” He asked, directing it at the reflection in the shard. “I think I do.” Mouthing without sound, he walked out and picked up a bag to clean up the shards.

“You know, I never thought that you’d end up doing this. What made you make this, Matthew?” A man said, his hand intertwined with another’s as the pair of them walked toward a painting of some sorts.

“Son, this is beautiful. Your father would be proud.” An older woman spoke up, being brought ahead of a large crowd that started to form around the painting.

“You could say the idea came to me after some… reflection.” The man said, looking at the painting. There were shards stuck to the canvas, reflecting the appearance of whoever was viewing them. Along the edges of those shards were thick dividing lines, and from the bottom up, the art only got more complex. It started off with just a sketch, in the next section it got line art, then the flat colors, then shading and highlights. The image itself was that of a person, with the shards of the mirror replacing body parts of said person. It was simply titled…

“Fractured.”