Book Broken Pieces Novels & Stories

It was 8:30am. "I have to go check on Noel.." I mumbled. I got up from bed and brushed my teeth and headed out of my room. I stopped in my tracks when I noticed Hazel sleeping peacefully on the couch in the living room with a book in her hand. "Did she fall asleep while reading?" I smiled and walked towards her. On my way, I ended up bumping into the marble vase on the table beside her and it shattered on the floor with a loud clank. Surprised by the loud noise, Hazel woke up and stared at me, and then at the floor where the broken pieces laid.

Glass rained down across the dresser, across the carpet, catching the lamplight in a hundred broken pieces, and I stood there breathing hard, staring at my own fractured reflection multiplied a dozen times over, none of the pieces showing me a whole face anymore. I didn’t stop at the mirror. I swept my arm across the dresser, sending the perfume bottles and jewelry boxes crashing to the floor, my vanity mirror next, the framed photograph of Isaac and me at the engagement party splitting down the middle when it hit the ground. I don’t know how long I stood there afterward. Long enough that my hand had started throbbing where a shard had caught my knuckles. Long enough that the apartment had g

It was all the air I had. He crossed to the bed, set the bundle against my hip, and unwrapped it slower than he needed to, giving me a second to brace for something I hadn’t earned a warning for yet. A bolt, sheared clean through the middle, the metal at the break smooth as a coin. I grew up around engines before I ever heard the words mating agreement. I know a clean cut from a stress fracture the way some people know their own name, and my fingers understood exactly what they were touching before my head caught up.

I would come back to him. Julian rose to his feet, swaying. He stumbled to the corner and wrapped both hands around the heavy steel pipe. He closed his eyes. All he could see was me carrying him through the rain. He clenched his jaw, raised the pipe high above his head, and swung it down with every ounce of strength left in his body -- straight into his own left kneecap. *CRACK.* The sickening, brittle snap of shattering bone echoed through the tiny basement. Blinding pain ripped through his entire body. His kneecap was smashed to pieces. His lower leg twisted at a grotesque, unnatural angle.

The broken plastic from the remote control cut into my palm, but I didn’t feel any pain. I dropped the shattered pieces on the floor. Richard stared at the mess by his shoes. His chest was rising and falling rapidly. He lifted the man right off the floor and threw him. I watched the heavy body fly across the room. He crashed right through the glass partition walls of my office. The thick glass shattered into a million tiny, shiny pieces. The loud crash shook the floor beneath my boots.

How was that even possible when they hadn’t found a body? They went on and on, displaying grief they never felt, while I grappled with the lengths they were willing to go just to erase me. My brakes had failed. And now that I thought about it, my Jeep had been in perfect condition—even though I barely used it. How could the brakes have suddenly stopped working? And why were they so quick to declare me dead? I thought I had known heartbreak before. But this—this shredded my heart completely, setting it ablaze with red-hot pain. Wounds that nothing could heal except vengeance.

Raven’s pov I munched on my crackers hungrily, staring at the bike I had dismantled in front of me. “What could be wrong? I have checked everything,” I whispered, checking everything out. I picked up the bolts joining all the parts to see if they were faulty, but they weren’t. Taking a deep breath, I went to look for my manual. “I should find something that would help here,” I whispered to myself, still confused. I walked towards the box where I kept things like that and started searching thoroughly for the book.

He had broken her to the core. To her it was so hard to be mended, when a bottle of wine falls to the floor shattering in to tiny pieces, the glasses can't be put together and even if you managed to collect the wine from there; it will be hard to drink it. She was that glass shattered beyond repair.

It still wasn’t enough. I wasn’t done. I wasn’t nearly done. I started grabbing everything I could reach—my perfume tray, the vase from Santorini, my designer candle holders, the antique books I kept by the window seat. One by one, I sent them flying. The sharp cracks of broken things were the only thing holding me together. If I didn’t break them, I would break myself. I was already breaking. I was already broken. And then I saw it—half-buried beneath the scattered pillows, tipped over on its side. The old frame. I didn’t remember keeping it. I didn’t even remember placing it there. But it found me anyway.

"You said you were lost. I understand that. All of a sudden several negative things came into your life that abruptly took you out of the comfort zone you had built. >> You feel lost and hurt by everything that has happened. However, none of it has brought you down." "With everything that's happened, I feel like I'm breaking into many pieces that will soon disappear. Just like my family." "We break when something overtakes us and we have no solution but to break to rest a little. It's okay to break sometimes, because through those wounds we can also breathe. >> And if at some point, from so many cracks you find it difficult to continue. You will have me to give you all the glue you need to j