Unbroken: A Short Story

The first time I had my heartbroken, I was nine years old. Tears welled up in my eyes as the world I knew crumbled beneath my feet. I remember my cheeks wet with tears and uncontrollable sobs racking my little body. My mother held me close to her as I cried. I heaved my sorrows into her chest as she kept me safe in her arms. I remember the words barely escaping her lips; they were barely audible but every syllable felt like it cut my skin. “We are getting a divorce.” tumbles off her tongue. The sorrow in her eyes was unmistakable. That was the first time I ever saw my mother cry. I watched everything that I had ever known fall apart right in front of me. I couldn’t stop it; and that was what hurt the most.
I realized something was wrong. We had stopped to pick up dinner from the grocery store and my mother said to my brother and I “Daddy and I need to talk to you when we get home.” Her voice shook with false confidence. like she was trying to stop the tears. I was staring out the window when my brother said “Whoa, Like a family meeting?” he wore a sloppy grin that showed all his missing teeth. “Yeah”, Mom said “Just like a family meeting”. She choked on the words, almost forgetting how to speak. He didn’t know that those words were always followed by bad news. I’ll admit that I was anxious for the meeting. I didn’t know that this would be the “Last Good Day’ as a family, with all of our blissful innocence and being oh so naive. We laid out a blanket over the rug. Both of us sat patiently waiting for our parents to deliver the news. My father’s eyes filled with tears as my mother spoke. I felt like the universe was collapsing in on me. I was filled with pain and anger. My mother promised me that this would never happen to us! She promised! I was so confused. I didn’t understand all the pain that suddenly washed over me. And that was just the beginning. Life went on. My broken heart was insignificant to the world. After all, it doesn’t revolve around