Ian POV

I looked at the paper in which I had written my song. To keep it short, it was messy. Ink blots all over and some of the words were unreadable because of the tears that I had splattered on it. My hand shook so much while I was writing it that it looked like it was written by a one-year old. Broken Pieces, the perfect title. But it just wasn't my heart that was broken. Everything was.

From my pencils to my fountain pen and finally, to my life. Yes, my life was broken. I found it meaningless, nothing meant to me anymore except her smile and her eyes and her gorgeous hair. Who cares if she was a stuttering idiot? I found perfectness in her flaws. I loved her. And I wish I didn't do anything to hurt her. But even my face and my being would hurt her if she ever saw me. That was the pain, I guess, of having love.

Sure, love is great love is gorgeous love is wonderfully strong blah blah blah. But here's what people don't tell you: Love has the power to break you apart too. That's what happened to me. And I couldn't let it out. Letting it out meant destroying the Kabra mansion and its grounds. It meant destroying me.

So I wrote it down into a song. A song that would hopefully mean so much to her. But I will never ever sing it to her. It would only hurt her and probably jeopardize the whole clue hunt. Never again will I let something be destroyed because of me. Because of one tiny little mistake. Because I had overlooked something.

I lifted the paper and looked at my desk underneath it. They were full of dents, the times when I had pressed so hard on the paper and I tore a hole in it. The two halves of a pencil and a fountain pen was scattered on the table. I had used the pencil but it had snapped after the first stanza so I switched to a fountain pen. After the third stanza, it went goodbye also.

I realized that the inkblots were very much like my own heart. With dark spots, pumping as if it were alive but really dead. Keeping up a facade so that people wouldn't know what it was really hiding. Broken, shattered, defeated, beaten, subdued and finally ruined. That's what my heart felt like these days.

But within, a question still lies...

What if the only one who can mend your broken heart is gone?