Broken

“Unto Almighty God we commend the soul of our brother departed, and we commit his body to the ground; earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.” The elderly pastor’s empathetic voice fell upon deaf ears, a glacial breeze whisping through the solemn graveyard. Sydney’s bloodshot aquamarine irises were distant and detached, gazing emotionlessly at the middle aged woman across the casket, sorrowful whimpers escaping her permanent frown. A pair of heartbroken dark chestnut eyes caught hers, the muscle in her ribcage palpitating oddly as a dull ache pulsed through her chest. Those mournful eyes were identical to the pair she’d once fallen in love with, the memories crashing to the forefront of her conscious.

After a night of passionate love making, Jorel’s tattooed chest trembled as he fought to regain composure in his lungs. Sydney’s smooth bare legs tangled with his, face nuzzled comfortably in the crook of his neck. Neither said a word, the couple relishing in the serene silence. Jorel’s calloused fingertips brushed against the surface of her petite hand, playing with the beauty’s thin fingers. “I love you.” His deep voice confessed in a whisper, it was the first time he’d said it in the course of their six month relationship. Both felt it, but neither wanted to be the first to say it. As the confession sunk in, Sydney fought against the overwhelming urge to smile. Instead, mumbled a ‘I love you too’ against his sweaty flesh before the couple held each other tightly, falling into a peaceful slumber.

Bowing her head, Sydney’s vision blurred, warm tears glistening unshed in devastated sapphire powder blue irises. A fragment of her heart would always belong to Jorel; the couple shared a unique passionate connection. Unfortunately, when you love another so fiercely, often times, things turn sour just as hastily. Jorel’s mother, Jennifer, was painfully oblivious to the monstrous struggle her son endured with the demonic side of fame. It was so easy to get his hands on the illegal substances that consumed his subconscious. The compelling love in his heart for Sydney was enough for the musician to pursue sobriety once, he’d made it six months before a jealous rage pushed him to relapse. The demolished woman was unaware of the person the addictive chemicals molded her son into, the mechanical monster. Jennifer received an evasive phone call from George Ragan a week prior, whispered condolences as he informed the woman her son had passed. No one explained how, and frankly, she couldn’t bring herself to ask. Sydney was grateful for this fact, she couldn’t look into those familiar eyes and tell the kindhearted woman her son was a cold-hearted drug addict. Jorel was a good man; he, as every other human on earth, had a knee crippling weakness that regrettably ended his life too soon. She needed the middle aged woman to mourn her child continuing to believe so.

“You gonna make it, Syd?” George’s hoarse voice murmured, muscular tattooed arm draped over narrow shoulders.

“I am fine.” The reply was monotone, fragile voice wavering as a sigh whisp passed the supple rose flesh of her cold chapped lips. George exhaled heavily, remaining wordlessly by his younger sibling’s side. He knew the reply was entirely false, the heart-wrenching devastation lingered in all of her soft feline features. George pressed an affectionate kiss to his sister’s temple, the service concluding as the guests began to vacate the abandoned graveyard.

“Sydney.” A delicate voice whimpered pitifully, the girl’s sapphire azure irises glistened with warm tears as she stared into grim dulled dark chocolate orbs. “I just want you to know that even though my son is no longer with us.” The middle aged woman paused, a hiccup escaping her lips before she continued. “I still consider you a member of the family, Jorel loved you so much.” Jennifer’s trembling hand wiped at the never-ending tears stained on her cheeks. “His father and I love you too.”

“Thank you, Mrs.Decker.” Sydney’s composure went crumbling to shambles, an overwhelming sense of guilt and remorse shattering her façade. “I loved him, too. More than he could’ve known.”

“I know you did, sweetheart.” Jennifer nodded, an artificial smile infecting her quivering lips as she hugged the girl tightly. “It’s okay to move on.” She whispered in a motherly tone. “I know you two loved each other, but I also know you two were broken.” The middle aged woman pressed a damp kiss to her forehead, leaving the girl in a hysterical mess in her brother’s tattooed arms.



The sequential chirp of medical equipment echoed through the eerily silent intensive care until hospital room, Sydney’s drowsy aquamarine irises fought the exhaustion trying to overpower her senses. Growing increasingly enervated, the young woman crossed her lean arms on the edge of the hospital bed, giving in to the overpowering exhaustion. During the week and a half, after the night at the hotel, Sydney found it nearly impossible to get any sleep. Surgeons spent six hours repairing the damage done the night Daniel was rushed to the ER. The bullet pierced a kidney, his gallbladder and lodged in a fragment of his liver. The internal bleeding was minimal, they were able to patch him together after he flat lined on the operating table, twice. For the last week and a half, he’s fluttered in and out of consciousness due to the excessive amount of painkillers in his IV. Unfortunately, she has yet to catch him while he’s conscious.

Daniel’s disoriented honey flecked chestnut irises scrutinized the desolate hospital room, beige pout twitching into a subconscious handsome smirk at the mess of midnight curls strewn across the ghostly white covers. An unyielding urge to tangle his tattooed fingers in those silken lengthy tendrils burnt his fingertips, yet he fought against the affectionate gesture as he heard the distant deep voices of his band mates. Hushed murmurs lingered around the open door, rhythmic heavy footsteps interrupting the soothing silence before George Reagan stood in the doorway.
“How long has she been here?” George’s deep voice inquired in a whisper, tattooed finger gesturing at his exhausted sister as she stirred in the stiff armchair.

“I am not sure.” Daniel’s hoarse voice croaked, instinctively looking down at the beautiful young woman as her delicate hand reached out, nimble fingers clutching the blankets covering his leg. George released an awkward cough, glancing over his broad shoulder before taking a few steps further into the room. Daniel’s honey flecked milk chocolate irises watching the musician as he shuffled uncomfortably, powder blue eyes glancing between his little sister and his wounded friend.

“Dan.” George sighed, tattooed hands rubbing his tired face. “How did this happen?” The musician gestured between the couple, scrunching his nose in bewilderment. No one had any idea of the affair, the physical attraction between the pair had always been obvious but the pair were exceptionally clever hiding the relationship aspect of the affair.

“I always liked her.” Daniel murmured, the affectionate glisten to his milk chocolate eyes was heartwarming. “Things just got out of hand.” He whispered quietly. “I fell in love.”

“What now?”

“I don’t know.” Daniel shrugged, calloused fingertips brushing the silken midnight curls, twirling the strands of hair around his index finger as he avoided looking at her brother.

“I am grateful that you saved my sister’s life.” George murmured, powder blue irises staring at the bare wall across the room. Daniel could sense the uneasiness, awaiting the ‘but’ in the bare statement. “But, I’d rather you didn’t see her.” Crossing his muscular arms, George released a strained cough shifting awkwardly as he searched for a less painful way to ease into the next statement. “At least not right away, she was really torn up at Jay’s funeral.”

“She loves him.” Daniel’s deep voice whispered; focusing on the shine of the silken midnight tendril wrapped around his tattooed finger. Ignoring the warm unshed tears glistening in his eyes and the burning in the bridge of his nose, the fact was impossibly painful, yet undeniably true. Sydney would always love Jorel; the couple has had the misfortune of discussing the topic before. Daniel plead with Sydney to leave Jorel on multiple occasions, each instance unsuccessful. The conflict in those bewitching aquamarine irises was evidence enough; she loved him despite the problems they had but she was falling for Daniel, too.

“I’ve never seen her so.” George released a solemn sigh; the musician has never witnessed his little sister in such a state. The loss shattered the girl almost completely; the vacant stare from those lifeless sapphire azure irises as they stared emotionlessly at the casket holding her other half. The grief-stricken sorrow infecting the flawless features as she fought to keep composure, the emotionless façade crumbling the moment Mrs.Decker brought up the love Jorel held in his heart for his little sister. It broke his heart to embrace his little sister’s trembling body as she fell to her knees, consumed with anguish, as those enthralling baby blues wept endlessly. She was destroyed. “Completely broken.”

“I wouldn’t make her be with me.” Daniel whispered defensively, almost as if he were offended that he would even suggest such a thing. “She doesn’t owe me anything.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” George replied sympathetically. “I just.” He visibly gulped, shaking his head dismissively. “Never want to see Sydney like that again.”

“I would do anything for her.” He whispered lovingly. “I was okay with dying if it meant Sydney could live.”

“I know, man. You have no idea how grateful I am.” George approached his little sister, draping his hoodie over her narrow shoulders as she shivered. “I couldn’t have lost her. I would’ve gone fucking insane.”

“I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

“Just give her some time.” George whispered as she subconsciously cuddled against Daniel’s leg. “That’s the only thing I ask.”

“I’ll give her all the time she needs.” Daniel promised, glancing up at his friend. “She’ll be okay. I’ll take care of her, George.”

“I know you will, man.” George nodded, a subconscious smirk consuming his full lips. He knew his little sister would be in good hands, Daniel was selfless when it came to Sydney. The love he held for the youngest Reagan child was stronger than he knew. There would never be enough words to show the gratitude for risking his life for Sydney. The kind of courage such an act would require was unimaginable, George felt both sadness and relief when he thought of the night he received Sydney’s frantic call. Sadness to have lost his best friend and relief to soothe his brotherly protectiveness as he realized there was someone else who his little sister would be safe with, Daniel Murillo. George had a feeling that Daniel would be everything that her poor broken heart would need during her time of loss; the protector and the lover. He would be able to mend the shattered pieces of her heart and promise a brighter tomorrow. Sydney and Daniel were broken, but together, they could be whole.