Broken Aesthetic Novels & Stories

Like a pane of glass cracking, fractures making fractures, a fragile crisscross of lines spreading out in a spiderweb shatter. “When something scary happens, or something hurts you, you have to weigh the bad up against the good it gives,” she says. “You have to trust when you look back on it one day, you’ll see all the ways it was pretty. You have to look for the beauty, babe. It’s always there.”

Once our faces were finished I had drawn a jagged crack down the middle as if it were a broken picture frame. Putting the empty yogurt container down I opened up a couple of bottles of paint and spent a half hour or so touching up our eyes, lips and also added some depth to the crack. When I was finished I sat back and using red paint wrote the title at the bottom right corner; Broken.

“Rot under varnish.” They teased it up, and it came away in one satisfying unmasking—false strength yielded to true weakness that could actually be mended. That piece took their power cleanly, gratefully, like a hinge drinking oil. The rent drew itself together another inch. Then the third crossing arrived—the one the visions had not dared to name.

(POV - KELSEY) My face hurts. It’s a deep, throbbing ache under all the makeup I caked on. I can still feel the shape of my own locker door against my nose. I look in every mirror I pass, and all I see is a mess of purple bruises and red, splotchy skin. It’s disgusting. But you know what? It’s also the perfect disguise. Because all I can think about is yesterday. Right before that crazy bitch attacked me. What did I see?

Every nerve in my body screamed at the sight of them. Blake looked different. His jawline seemed smaller now. His nose was crooked, his cheekbones uneven, and there were faint traces of scars that makeup couldn’t quite cover. His once handsome face looked almost foreign now. The memory of that brutal morning flashed before my eyes. The way Cesare’s punches had echoed, the way blood painted Blake's face. The fear in me had been real, yes, but so was the relief. Because he deserved it. Every broken bone, every drop of pain, every mark on his face, he earned it.

It falls to the floor with a thud and the frame breaks. Some of the glass cuts through the thin paper and scratches my mate’s beautiful face. The only thing not distorted now is her gorgeous long blonde hair. Not only has Bry gotten my mate’s hair, but she also got her sparkling green eyes. Bry’s eyes, though, don’t hold the same sparkle as my mate’s. Instead, our pup’s green gaze has a very cold and distant look. It is nothing remotely close to her mother’s warm gaze. My heart twists as I stare at the broken picture.

Her eyes meet mine and says, "Jessie, before I met you, I was broken. I was a pile of broken pieces, a mess left behind when I lost my late wife nearly three years ago. "This last year I've felt those broken pieces meld together only to shatter again a couple days ago. They shattered when you and our daughters left me for an old wedding tradition. I've never felt so lost during those hours than I did growing up. "I stand before you now and vow to love you till my last breath. I know I've come close a few months ago and I'm sorry. I vow to be your strength as the days unfold, your shelter, your home. I vow to cherish every moment I can grasp," she chokes with a smile, reaching up to wipe my t

He said as he pushed in his tip but taking it back out, taunting me by his actions. "I'm s-sorry for breaking y-your rules a-and b-being disrespectful." I stuttered as I pushed my body against his dick more than it already was. "Will you do it again?" He asked. "No!" I said as he continued to tease me. "No what?" He asked "No Justin." I said immediately feeling a hard sting on my left ass cheek. "No dadd-." before I could finish my sentence he slammed himself into me with full force. "JUSTIN! FUCKKKK!" I screamed as he continued to pound himself into me, breaking my body down bit by bit.

Pale blue melted seamlessly into silvery tones, the fabric seemingly alive, shimmering and transforming with every subtle movement, catching the light like morning dew delicately balanced on a spider's intricate web. "It's..." I began, my vocabulary suddenly inadequate to capture the dress's ethereal beauty. "Breathtaking," Bree completed my thought, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of mischief and genuine emotion. "Wait until Roman sees you. He won't just forget how to breathe - he might momentarily forget his own existence." She squealed in delight. She has brought with her makeup artist. She began working with the precision of a sculptor, each brush stroke feeling like an act of renewal,

It felt like I had a broken heart from my mate and my best friend. My head hurts and my heart aches , it feels like a sharp hot knife was piercing through it. It made me feel really sick that they had the nerve to insult me after betraying me. I didn’t know for how long I was slumped to the ground but I decided to clean my face and go back to the ball. I don’t want to make my parents worried about me and I also don’t want to give Denver and Mimi the satisfaction that they can break me. I walked towards the large mirror in the art gallery and adjusted my dress. I tapped my cheeks to create a fake blush . I also cleaned off the entire smudged mascara on my face , it made my eyes look a bit dar