Broken Novel Novels & Stories

I screamed at the empty walls. I raised the painting over my head. I saw the vibrant honey colors and the broken fence. I saw the lie of the light. With every ounce of strength I had, I threw the canvas at the white brick wall. The sound was deafening. The wood frame snapped with a sharp, violent crack. The glass that protected the oil paint shattered into a thousand tiny diamonds. They rained down onto the hardwood floor, clicking and sliding into the corners. The canvas slumped against the floor, a jagged tear running through the center of the sun. The Honey Light was gone. The frame was in pieces. The silence returned. I was the one who had broken it this time.

Everyone of us is broken in one way or the other. We just find a way, a thing or a person that glues us together. And sometimes, we don’t even find that so we learn to live with our broken parts and wait for that day when they will stop hurting. ~ A. Gupta Violet

In his time as a True Crime writer, Byron had interviewed many people, many of them disturbed or troubled in some way. In these interviews, he would often run up against what he called The Breakdown, to the point where, due to the pressures of telling him their story a person would hit an unknown well of feelings and just… shut down, usually in a maelstrom of tears. They always recovered but it was at a point that Byron always hated, even dreaded.

"Tomorrow. I have the day off tomorrow, I plan to take her home and bring her here too. If time permits, I intend for us to go see Bashir since his wife is her best friend." "That's fine!" Ummi replied smiling. "I hope there's no problem? Please, Abdul, I know your marriage to Aliya didn't work out, but I genuinely hope you'll open up to her. You deserve to be happy, just like everyone else." "Sure Ummi. Just keep praying for us all." Happy? He highly doubts that. There's absolutely no hope for that, no hope for a happy ending for him, or for a good life with Zeenah. Because come to think of it, who'll ever love him the way he is? No one, not even Zeenah. He was not a saint, and will never b

Anna's feet were cracked and bleeding, her shoes reduced to tattered leather flaps. Every step on the gravel path felt like walking on broken glass. Her soles were raw,torn from days of wandering. She winced and beat the inside of her cheek until it bled. Crying was a luxury. She couldn't afford weakness. It was two days. Two full days without food. Her last bite was a fresh banana she saw on top of a dustbin. Her stomach clenched and growled,twisting in pain but she clenched on.

Chapter 148 – The Broken Star’s Choice The broken star pulsed in the nexus’s starfield, its light a fractured mosaic of fading gold and encroaching shadow, each throb a heartbeat of anguish that threatened to unravel the tapestry of all creation. Jessica’s hollowness was a screaming void, her body bloodied and trembling, her glow extinguished as her future self loomed, radiant yet broken, her hollow eyes and chilling vow, “Your love will break you, Jessica.

' 'That heartless woman! She had used this method to take revenge on me. On top of the divorce agreement was a folded medical report. My hands trembled violently with rage, barely able to hold the thin sheet of paper. It was a miscarriage report. "No... It can’t be..." I muttered to myself, feeling the world spin around me. I tried to reach out to Jessica telepathically, but it was as if an invisible wall kept us apart. It was impenetrable. Jessica had completely severed our connection.

The enormity of my actions and the resulting grief cast a shadow over my soul, and I swore that I would never again allow myself to love or be loved. As I ran, the memories of my mother's gentle touch and my sister's infectious laughter faded into the distance, replaced by the overwhelming guilt and shame that would come to define my existence. At that moment, I became Jason the Broken, a man forever haunted by the tragic consequences of a single, devastating night.

then the barman ended everything by calling security on him. "hey... I..." "don't sweat it. keep the change." I interrupted him, dropping his money on the counter and left. ***** "Why!... I hate you." That was all I could yell throwing anything my hand could reach and breaking whatever was breakable close to me. I have never in my life felt such public humiliation, never felt rejection, never felt so broken before. I had no one to turn to or confide in. For weeks I drowned myself in alcohol, drugs and anything I wouldn't originally buy with my money. That was where I found consolence. I wouldn't pick any incoming calls, nor let anyone in on my life.

I blurted. He laughed bitterly. “Why is that, right? Do whatever it takes, Hernandez. She ran after you so many times, it's time for you to break a sweat too.” “You're buying," he pointed to the glasses and left. I stood there drinking and remembering the night everything started to go wrong. The night I broke Sofia's heart for the first time and all the other times I did it again and again over the years. Yeah, maybe I really needed to make things right.