Uzzielle Santos Always
Short Story
“In a world where vows are worthless. Where making a pledge means nothing. Where promises are made to be broken, it would be nice to see words come back into power.” ― Chuck Palahniuk, Lullaby “Promises are only as strong as the person who gives them ...” ― Stephen Richards “I know it is a bad thing to break a promise, but I think now that it is a worse thing to let a promise break you.” ― Jennifer Donnelly, A Northern Light *** People say I am made to be broken. That at least once in a person’s lifetime, they will make me, hold me, cherish me, and crush me. I’ve experienced it all. I’ve felt the flickering heart of the giver as they make me; their whole being encased in the belief that no matter what, they will keep me. Their words are laced with silk, emitting lies more pungent than the roses they plant and their crossed fingers echo a still, stone, cavernous heart. I’ve seen the honey-coated words slip off their tongues like a figure skater stumbling across a mirror of ice. When I was born for the one-hundredth time, I was created by a blond boy with ocean eyes and a cheeky half-smile. He gifted me to a dark-skinned girl with framed chocolate eyes, a gap-toothed grin, and the heart of an angel; and he named me ‘Always.’ My mother told me that only one in a hundred of us Promises would experience an unbroken life. ‘Don’t get your hopes up,’ she said. They were only fifteen when they met, but I had a special feeling about this one. Something felt raw, real, and vulnerable about this life. This boy was the exception. They planted a garden together and every day after classes, they would tend it, spread out a picnic blanket and eat the lunches they had saved from school. “I’ve never met anyone like you, Felicity Jayne,” he would say. He never knew he could look at someone the way he looked at her.
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