hearts

“Can you help me?” he whispers slowly, grabbing the hand of a shadow standing still in front of him. The shadow steps back, slipping the hand out of his grip. “Can you wake me? Can you change this, stop this… help me please?” he begs, falling down to the ground below. He wails out for someone to help him, but no one comes, only this shadow in this place he knew not. He wonders if it is too late to start believing in heroes, he guessed, we’re full of villains, maybe there might possibly be a hero? He supposed not, all he knew was this shadow, but shadow of whom or what? He notices warmth running down his chest, he places a hand on it, it comes away with blood, and he is shocked and touches it again. A hole; definitely a hole in his chest. He can fit his hand in; he does and feels around, where was his heart? He looks down and sees something beating on the ground, a vein connecting it to him. He lifts the little broken beating heart off the ground and looks at it in wonder. The shadow steps forward, edging closer slowly. The man is still transfixed on his beating heart. The shadow steps out of the shadows. She whacks the heart from his hand and stamps on it, grinding the little thing into the ground. He crys in agony and she laughs at his pain. He grows out that he doesn’t love her anymore, she can’t break his heart no more, she gets angry and stomps harder, but it doesn’t hurt him no more. She gives up and leaves. He picks himself up off the ground, finds his heart, dusts it off and places it back in his chest, the bleeding steadies and stops. He doesn’t love her, and his heart no longer broken. Maybe she can get help, but till then who cares?