She wanted me to break it, to tear her heart to shreds.

She begged me for it.

Pleading for me to destroy the little of her that remained.

She stumbled and ranted in a drunken stupor.

Alcohol seeping from every pore vomit lingering on her breath.

All beauty that I once saw has become nothing more than a bitter aftertaste.

Lost in the bottom of the bottle.

I left her screaming

Strung out

Barefoot

Clothes barely hanging on to her

I left her there

Never turning back

Never responding to her insults

Only wondering

What happened to the innocent girl I once loved?

I left her there

After giving her four years

And I didn't even shed a tear.

she wanted me to break it. and so I did. i took a pocket knife and carved the word hate into a tin cup of hope. I grabbed a hammer and smashed her glass heart. I let her mascara drip and her illusions die. I let her dreams fall from the sky, and I told her to give up. I chanted the word destroy over and over and over again into her painted skies, and I turned her into a weapon. now she kills the first to touch the remains of her love, that only love for hearts that ache and break so easily. I changed her.

She wanted me to break it, all the work I’ve put my time in to. My heart shattered to a million pieces, I wiped the sweat off my brow, leaving trails of wet paint from my hand that remained.

“I’m not going to.” I spoke with struggle.

She swung her hand back, forcefully bringing it down to my face, leaving a red mark.

“I know it isn’t me, Elliott. She’s long gone, and dead!”

Tears fell from my eyes, I couldn’t bear to hear those words. I’ve lived a life where she’s never gone. The bed isn’t empty, I hear the sweetest sounds of her voice as she sings me to sleep.

I wake up, her arms are no longer as she’s around me.

“She never did, she’s alive and well.”

I know, in another universe, she is.

And never died in the fire.

She wanted me to break it, but how could I? I wasn't cruel, despite popular belief.

"No," I replied firmly. "I won't help you. This is your mess, you figure it out."

"But Alex..." she whined, reaching out to squeeze my bicep lightly, but I backed away before she could touch me.

"No, Andrea, it's not my fault you played with his feelings. To say that you liked him even though you didn't in the first place was fucked up, now you want me to pretend to have sex with you so you can break his heart? No." I shook my head.

He was my best friend, I would never do something like that to him. What was that saying, again? Bros before hoes? Yeah, it seemed to fit quite nicely to this situation.

"She wanted me to break it," I said, defending my earlier actions. My father wanted to know why I'd broken a vase.

"Who wanted you to break it?" He asked, his eyes wide with concern.

Of course he was concerned. I was an only child, and my mother ha passed away years ago. I didn't have any friends, and none of our close neighbors were female. There was no "she" that he knew of who could have told me that.

"She wanted me to break it," I repeated, drawing my knees up to my chest.

He seems to be at a loss for words. His mouth opened and closed, but nothing came out. I took a sudden interest in the stitching of my pajama pants.

Finally, he was able to speak. "Who is 'she'?"

"She wanted me-"

"Right," he muttered, interrupting me. "She wanted you to break it."

I stared at him. "Mum."

"Excuse me?" He asked, wanting me to say it again."

"It was Mum. She wanted me to break it."

He thought about that for a moment before sitting next to me on my bed and putting a gentle hand on my knee. "Sweetheart, your mother is gone. She's not coming back."

"But she wanted me to break it," I insisted.

"Your dead mother wanted you to break the vase?" It was more of a rhetorical question, since he scoffed and shook his head immediately after.

I picked at my pajamas. "She told you she thought the vase was ugly, but you bought it anyway. So she told me to break it."

"I just told you that your mother is gone," he sighed, giving up on convincing me otherwise.

Pausing for a moment, I replied, "Then why is she sitting next to you?"

She wanted me to break it, a porcelain ruby vase I brought her. We stood on top of a building together, at the edge. The emotions were high and she had eyes that were all cried out. As her man, her only friend, I thought that I was doing everything right. Turns out, I was doing everything all wrong. I thought that by looking into her eyes every morning and telling her she was beautiful it would soothe all the open wounds from before.

Before she began to grow crazy... crazy from a broken heart. All the aches, the problems, the past. I thought it would all mend if I caressed her head and made her feel beautiful. I guess not. I guess all that it did was make her insecure. She thought that I would leave her at any moment, I would disappear and never return. She thought that I was everyone else. She thought that I wasn't anything. No matter how much I tried to convince her otherwise the aches were still there, she was still tarnished.

I was there, with the ruby porcelain vase trying make her see the beauty. See how beautiful she was in the reflection. Trying to make everything normal again. All that she could do was weep aloud even more when she saw herself. When she saw how depressed she looked, how drained, how empty her spirit was.

I tried everything that I could and now it was over. If I threw this vase over the edge then everything would be over.

I gave it to her on our second date. The second date was months apart from the first. It was months a part due to my inability to stay. I thought that she was so beautiful that I couldn't do anything but to leave her. I left her there all alone. On the second date, I gave her the vase with roses and promised I would never leave. I promised that I would do anything to make us last. I kept my promised so far. I know, I know that if I through this vase she will scream. She will panic with fury because it's thickness in the air. I know she will feel like that I have failed her. So I continue to hold it, dangling over all of NY.

"Do it. You stupid, Bastard! Do it!" she yells at me.

I dropped it.

She wanted me to brake it,

She really wanted me to brake her baby's neck.

I screamed and yelled at her that I wouldn't do it, that after it was done she would regret it and want to kill her self.

She begged and begged me to do it, she was desperate.

She was to young to have a baby to care for.

She was my best friend too and she was only 14 just going into high school.

I finally just started ignoring her all together but when she jumped off the bridge and killed herself leaving her baby behind I wish I would've stayed there for her.

I never broke the baby's neck,

I took care of her and named her after her mother,

She was just like her mother so the name fit her,

Every time I look at her I think of my best friend, like she's standing right there in front of me as young and beautiful as she always was.

She wanted me to break it she wanted me to break the window. Of course I broke the window because I wanted to. But then my mom got made at me and I blamed it on her and she just got more mad but it wasn't my fault I didn't break the widow oh yeah I did. Well I lied because I like lying im a liar. I bet you all are liars too we all lie and that is good. I broke the window with a hammer and the hammer was a liar too. I like the hammer the end

"She wanted me to break it". I looked at her deep in the eyes. "The second you broke it, you lost everything, you realize that right?! And you know as her best friend it's my job to make you regret this right?" Clairabelle yelled into Kyle's face. "She didn't want to get hurt, she told me to break it." Kyle's eyes were brimming with tears. "Just because she thinks she wanted you to, doesn't mean you should have. If you loved her you wouldn't have done it, even if God himself asked you to" I walked away from Kyle in utter disappointment, he broke it. He broke my best friends heart. She didn't want to hurt him so she wanted him to hurt her. He broke it.