Broken Mirror Hard To Mend Novels & Stories

Miranda didn't give him any face, "What's the use of your promise to me? You're not trying to chase me." Westley's breathing became heavy for a moment, and he couldn't be bothered to say anything. He was afraid he would be driven to the edge. However, Miranda didn't plan to stop. "Westley, a broken mirror is hard to mend. Even if you manage to glue the pieces together, the cracks will always remain." "Some things cannot be repaired."

It was old, the frame tarnished silver worked into a pattern of vines, the glass itself dark, like looking into a pool of standing water rather than a mirror. My reflection didn’t show up in it the way it should have. I turned it over in my hands, then carried it over to where Melissa was sleeping. “Melissa.” I touched her shoulder. “Wake up. I think I found something.” Her eyes opened, blinking blearily, and then sharpened the second they landed on the mirror in my hands. She sat up straighter.

Luna realized that they were trapped in a reflection of their fears, trapped within the illusions. "No more," Luna growled, her gaze unwavering. "We will break these illusions and reclaim the relics." Elias nodded, his eyes blazing with determination. He charged towards the mirror, his inner strength propelling him forward. With a mighty blow, he shattered the mirror into a thousand shards.

"It's not us, what are you two doing? Why did you unplug the circuit breaker?" "We didn't touch the circuit breaker," Alex said. "If it wasn't you, then who—" Yondu scratched his head. "Oh, what do we do now? The laboratory door is an electronic password door. How do we open it now?" Alex and Candice glanced at each other, their expressions slowly becoming serious. "The circuit breaker can't be turned back on?" "What do you mean turned back on? The circuit breaker has been fried!" Candice slowly frowned, and she looked at Alex, her hand on the table trembling slightly.

Yet seeing it reminded me of Laila and her stories about the Omega who became Luna. I sighed and made to throw the mirror into the bin beside my table since it was basically useless now anyway. “Ouch!” I let out a pained gasp when a broken shard of the mirror cut through my finger, making me slam the mirror back on the table. I bled from the little and I blew on it, trying to stop it from bleeding even more. I couldn’t bear having any more injuries when I was only just healing from the ones inflicted on me days ago.

The entire room was like a small apartment, she thought then she gasped and facepalmed upon remembering that she's actually in an apartment complex. She saw that there was a door beside the wall wardrobe, about a few inches away from it. She sauntered to it, curious what lies behind the mysterious door and she squinted her eyes, lifting her free arm to cover them because of the gloriously gleaming treasures hidden behind the door. It was a bathroom, a dignifiedly neat one, with marble-like restroom fittings and fixtures. Even though she was a few feet away from them and she has quite the bad eyesight, she thought she regained her 20/20 vision and could easily see and recognize all the neat s

I didn’t hesitate. The chamber below was suffocating—lit only by veins of glowing quartz embedded in the walls. At the center stood the mirror. It was not constructed as a normal glass. It was ten feet high and its very edges were of obsidian teeth, and glimmered it did with a silver so deep it seemed to fall. The Mirror of Mercy. I approached it slowly. “What do I give?” “Blood,” Killian whispered behind me, his voice distant. I drew my knife, and cut my hand. When the blood spilt on the bottom of the mirror it became absorbed by the obsidian, just as water settles in the sandy desert.

I didn't ask for anything that wasn't rightfully mine, but I made damn sure to get everything that was. I glanced at Zachary beside me, he looked completely broken. Anxious. Defeated. Nothing like the confident man I'd married. "Ella, is this really it for us? No second chances?" "That's right. We're done." I studied his face, remembering how nervous he'd been when he first asked me out all those years ago. But I wasn't that starry-eyed girl anymore. A cracked mirror can never reflect a perfect image again. Zachary and I—our story had reached its final page.

Blood smears the surface, distorting my face. Lovely. I grab the mirror by its frame, ignoring the scream of protest in my bones. Muscles strain. And then, with a cry, I hurl it across the room. It crashes against the wall, shattering into a thousand jagged shards. Pieces rain down like broken stars, scattering across the floor. But it’s not enough. It’s not enough.

Lights from incense were one of the most difficult things to control. I caught my stare in the mirror and realized that my white gown had patches of dark red blood on it. Gathering another angry surge of power, I channeled the light from the inscence to the mirror. It was difficult to do, yet it was drainging every bit of power in me. My eyes were fast growing hazy and I began to feel weak. Only thoughts of Rapheal increased my morales. I pushed harder with everything in me, so hard the mirror shattered and it's fragment pierced into my skin in the most painful way. My skin burned instead of stinging, and more blood spilled from my mouth but I fought and fought, until the lights of the candl