Her vision was blurred with tears.
She sank down onto what small piece of floor remained clear.
She drew her knees up to her chest as the sobs began to slow down.
She looked around at the mess that surrounded her.
Broken picture frames.
Everything that could be easily broken was broken.
Her heart was no different.
She shifted around and felt the stabbing pain pierce her flesh.
She lifted her hand to see a small trickle of blood beginning to run down the side.
She hastily wiped it on her pants and took a deep breath.
Her mind continued to whirl in a jumble of everything that had happened.
The shouting and yelling.
The baby crying from the other room.
The breaking point.
He had called her crazy.
Said her behavior was the reason for his actions.
Who would want to be married to someone like you?
It hit her like a thousand knives in the heart.
The same words her father once said to her.
She closed her eyes trying to calm herself down.
Breathe in. Breathe out. She repeated to herself.
She had shown him crazy.
Had promised he would have to start over just like she did.
She had broken everything she could.
Slightly regretting not throwing the things toward his head.
He shook his head and stormed out.
Leaving her to tend to the mess and the baby as usual.
She had soothed the baby back to sleep.
Kissing its soft hairs and apologizing for all the terrible things.
She returned to the kitchen and had started to clean up the mess as expected.
But she stopped herself.
She was tired of having to always clean up the mess.
So she didn’t.
She just sank to the small piece of floor remaining.
And wondered how her life had become so broken and messy.